10 Everyday Phrases with Nautical Origins #2

Today’s everyday phrases can come in handy when you’re in a tight spot, avoiding danger, or reaching your goal (land ho!) Chockablock came in handy for me last week, as it described how I felt after having been sick for nearly two months (Covid into bronchitis, joy), and then catching up with all those little things in our household that had gone undone. Anyone who’s been married for any length of time will know that spouses tend to take over specific jobs – whether that’s carrying out the rubbish or doing the laundry, cleaning drains or watering plants. I’ll let you guess which jobs are whose. Catching up with those undone jobs stemmed the tide of accumulating chores, and helped me get our home back to shipshape and in Bristol fashion! So enjoy these phrases, and please share in the comments which ones apply to your life!

Chockablock: Jam-packed; overcrowded; completely filled, stuffed, or jammed tightly together. You may have heard the term block and tackle; This refers to a system in which a rope, chain or cable (= tackle) is passed over pulleys enclosed in two or more blocks, one fixed and one attached to a load (see image). When these blocks are pulled so close together that no further movement is possible, this is known as being chockablock (this is the usual spelling, which illustrates its meaning perfectly – no space, not even a dash between words!).

Stem the Tide: Try to prevent a situation from becoming worse than it already is. Nautically, it means to tack (steer) against the tide or oncoming storm to avoid being blown off course or capsized.

To be Shanghaied: A city in China, Shanghai implied a long voyage (just as Switzerland today implies neutrality in the collective conscious). When landsmen were impressed (volunteered against their will) into the British or American navies in the days of wooden ships of sail, to be Shanghaied meant to be impressed and sent away from home for a long time or extended voyage (not necessarily to China!).

Limey: Shortened slang for “lime juicer”, referring to the English naval ships and the practice of carrying barrels of limes or lime juice to ward off scurvy on long voyages. As the British navy was a dominant force on the seas, the term gradually came to mean British.

Shipshape (and in Bristol Fashion): Everything is okay and in good order. Bristol was, at one point, Britain’s main west coast port; the idiom was used to describe everything being in order with cargo and at the port.

Give a Wide Berth: Leave space for, veer around. Even when a ship is at anchor, it will move with the tide and wind, so the berth, or a docking space, for a ship needs to be ample for a safe mooring. The modern phrase still denotes the danger of steering too close to an unpredictable situation.

Loose Cannon: Unpredictable danger (can be said of a person or situation). When a cannon or a cannonball broke free from its mooring, it created a hazardous situation as it rolled around or across the deck during a storm or in battle.

Port, Starboard: This simple explanation is that these are left and right, respectively, on any ship or airplane. But simple is a bit boring! Buckle up: In the past, as today, the majority of people were right-handed; ships of sail had rudders centred on the stern (back of the ship), but the steering oar came up onto the quarter deck through the right side of the stern. This leads us to the term starboard: Old English steorbord literally meant steer-board, the side on which a vessel was steered.

When pulling into a port, as the steering oar was on the right side, they would anchor starboard out, port in. The port, the left side of the ship as seen from the stern facing forward toward the bow, was formerly known as larboard, from Middle English ladde-borde, meaning loading board (side); it was eventually renamed as the similarity to starboard was confusing in the loud life aboard.

Most airplanes follow this tradition today, with boarding being on the left (port) side. In fact, jet bridges are designed to match the left side of the plane, so unless you are climbing into a grasshopper flight on a remote island, you will board port side!

Ahoy: Used to hail a ship, a boat or a person, or to attract attention. Used today as a humorous warning of impending danger or inconvenience.

Land Ho: To call out “Land ho!” was to let the crew know that land had been spotted. It is a way to let everyone know that the end of a voyage is imminent.

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10 Everyday Phrases with Nautical Origins #I

A phrase I use often is to “batten down the hatches” – meaning “put things away in preparation for (leaving on holidays, guests arriving, or the next project)”. I know that it originates from ship jargon, where it means preparing for rough seas or as a precaution to some other danger. That set me thinking about how many other phrases and idioms we use regularly in English that have their roots in nautical history. I’ve written on this topic before, highlighting the phrases of cathead, to swing a cat, down the hatch or break the ice, and even toe the line vs tow the line. Here are 10 more to get you thinking, with more to come!

Long Shot: A situation needing a good deal of luck. The guns aboard ships of sail were often inaccurate, or the decks would be too high for close-range accuracy. If a cannon successfully struck its target from a “long shot”, it was considered extraordinarily good luck.

Flotsam and Jetsam: A collection of miscellaneous items of little importance; odds bods, odds and ends. Flotsam refers to items unintentionally cast adrift or washed ashore, while Jetsam describes items intentionally cast overboard, such as when lightening the load for buoyancy.  They are almost always a paired idiom.

Taken Aback: Suddenly or unexpectedly checked or disappointed; startled or surprised.  It comes from the situation when a ship’s square sails were flattened against the masts by a sudden change of wind, stopping the forward motion.

In the Doldrums: Listless, depressed. Doldrums, aka the Intertropical Convergence Zone (ITCZ), is an area of the ocean near the equator where calms, squalls, and light, baffling winds are common. Sailing ships would often hit the Doldrums and be stranded until the wind could pick up their sails and empower the ship to move on. Large ships of sail had the disadvantage of having no ability to be oared forward.

The Cut of One’s Jib: One’s general appearance. The jib was the large, triangular foresail of a ship. When someone on the watch spotted a vessel on the horizon, they would look at the cut of the sails to determine whether they were friend or foe. A modern equivalent would be plane spotters, who can determine the make of an airplane by the shape of its hull and wings.

Show One’s True Colours: Being honest, open. Though the cut of the jib would determine a ship’s origin, it became more complicated as ships were captured by an enemy and repurposed for their own use. Because of that, ships of sail would hoist their colours – flags – to proclaim their current nationality. To show one’s true colours meant being honest, because enemy vessels might fly false colours until within firing range and then switch flags, declaring their true intentions at the last minute.

Pipe Down: Imperative – be quiet. Aboard a ship, the bo’sun’s pipe whistle would signal various activities.  To “pipe down” was the signal given to dismiss the crew from duty.

Landlubber: This word has a long history, though it eventually became known as a derogatory nautical term for people who struggle with being at sea or who get seasick and therefore dislike boats, or what the sailor considered a lazy person preferring life ashore. The term lubber goes much further back: In the mid-fourteenth century, it meant a clumsy, stupid person who lives in idleness. An earlier form, Lobi, meaning lazy lout, may have Scandinavian roots; it may also derive from the Old French term lobeor, meaning swindler, parasite. Any way you slice it, being called a Landlubber was basically an insult – or an accurate description of your character, depending on whether you were on the receiving or giving end of the word…

Bottoms Up: Known today as a drinking cheer to encourage people to finish off their drink, it has a much darker past. During the days of sail, the British navy would press men into service. If you volunteered, you were given “the King’s shilling” as first payment. Scrupulous press gangs would slip a shilling into a man’s drink, and if he finished off the drink, he was considered as having accepted the payment and was hauled off to sea. Innkeepers became wise to their tactics and began serving drinks in glass beer mugs rather than earthenware mugs, encouraging their patrons to check “bottoms up” to make sure there wasn’t a coin in the glass.

Scuttlebutt: The Butt was a cask with a capacity of between 110 to 140 imperial gallons of liquid (see my article about it here).  Scuttle was an opening in the ship’s deck, and as a verb, it meant to intentionally sink a ship by either putting a hole in it or leaving the portholes open with the intention of making a vessel unusable by an enemy. The barrels aboard ships were usually laid on their sides within braces, and a scuttle was a hole in the side for a cup or scoop to be inserted. The drinking hole became a popular gathering place, and the term “drinking hole” also became synonymous with the office drinking fountain or the local pub – a place to gather and have a drink together. To scuttlebutt means to idly chatter, start rumours, or gossip.

Which of these phrases are new to you? How many do you use, and if you use them, how frequently? I’d love to hear about it in the comments!

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History Undusted: Keys

Some people collect things like stamps, postcards, or coins. I’m drawn to unique doors, locks, and keys.

Keys are something everyone has; whether it’s a house key, a car key, or an inner door key. Modern keys come in several forms: Lever (usually used in padlocks or furniture), pin tumbler, dimple, computerized laser (often used in cars), Nutech, cross, skeleton, barrel, transponder, cards, Abloy, and many more.

We tend to think of skeleton keys as antiquated, but here in Switzerland, even modern room doors within a home have skeleton keys for their locks (though we use dimple keys on main doors). Even though they’re still used, skeleton keys are one of the oldest forms of keys in history. The Romans had elaborate keys that were nearly as wide as they were long, but they already had the typical ringed head we think of when we think of a skeleton key; it made it easy to slip in a finger and pull the key out of the lock.

Roman Key Latch as old as 1st Century AD – Metmuseum

The oldest key found was in the ruins of Ninevah (the capital of ancient Assyria), going back to around 4,000 BC. It was a simple wooden prodder inserted into a hole in a door to lift pegs within a wooden bar used to hold the door securely from the inside; it could only be secured from the inside and was easy to open with any pegged stick. This type of wooden pin lock was common in ancient Egypt, but they’ve also been found in places like Japan and Scandinavia. It is alluded to in the Bible in such passages as Nehemiah 3:3,6,13-15 or Isaiah 22:22-23.

Ancient wooden peg key lock

The Romans improved on the idea and began making brass and iron keys with the ground-breaking technology of projections (wards) inside the lock that required a specific combination to be opened, thus requiring a specific key. The warded key outlasted the Roman Empire itself by more than a thousand years. Though these locks were easy to pick, no major advancements were made in the design until the late 18th century, when Robert Barron invented a new locking mechanism that we essentially recognize as the tumbler lock. Joseph Bramah improved further on the design a few years later, using a cylindrical key with patterned notches that aligned with the metal slides within the lock. The Bramah lock is still used and sold today (after finishing this article, take a moment on Google Images to search “Bramah lock” – you’ll see a wide range of old and new examples).  In 1818, Jeremiah Chubb improved the design by adding a retaining spring that held back a tumbler when shifted by the turn of the wrong key; this prevented not only the bolt from being lifted but indicated that someone had tried to pick the lock; they were known as detector locks.

Over time, many more improvements and refinements followed, until today’s key styles are so varied that a comprehensive list would be lengthy – there are variations within categories of keys; some cars today no longer even require a key to start. But to adapt the old adage of “where there are horses there are horse thieves”, where there is a lock there will be a lock pick. Even keyless cars are not theft-proof.

How many keys do you use daily? How have key styles changed in your lifetime?

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The Hum

Recently I came across an article on the phenomena of “The Hum” – a low-frequency sound heard by people across the globe. The hums are often given their location’s place name, such as the Taos Hum of New Mexico, the Auckland Hum or the Windsor Hum. While these sounds are clearly heard, no one seems to agree on the source of the sound: It could be produced by electrical equipment, an unfamiliar animal sound (such as the toadfish), the Jet Stream shearing powerline posts, volcanic eruptions, lightning static, ocean wave vibrations, or internal biological auditory signals.

If you stop and listen, there are sounds everywhere. But The Hum is not tinnitus, which has a much higher sound frequency. I’ve had tinnitus for years; when it’s quiet, I can hear up to eight tones of ringing in my ears. It’s something that affects around 15% of the population, but the only time it really becomes an issue is if it triggers a fight-or-flight response in a person – I’ve heard that the more you focus on the ringing, the more you hear it (the more it bothers you). In almost half of the people who have tinnitus, it can lead to phases of anxiety or depression, likely linked to that psychological fear response. Some people don’t even realize they have tinnitus – they automatically, subconsciously distract themselves with sound (music or television being common tactics). The causes of tinnitus vary, but in my case, I know exactly when it started: I was flying from London to Glasgow, and I had a head cold. The flight was just at that altitude where your ears almost pop, and it was excruciating. I can still hear fleas sneeze and “tell you if they’re male or female”, but the ringing is always present – I just ignore it for the most part. I hear so well that I sleep with earplugs each night – otherwise, I can hear electricity in the walls, and a battery charger at the far end of our home sounds like a car alarm to me!

Have you heard The Hum? Do you have tinnitus, and if so, does it bother you in any way or are you able to ignore it?

If you’d like to learn a bit more about The Hum, and what it could be or what it could mean, please click here for a 12-minute BBC report on the issue.

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Insatiable Fascination

Throughout history, people have always been fascinated by thinking beyond their own known world; before widespread writing and reading, ancient cultures thought about their own mortality (which, in some ages, wasn’t that far off) and the afterlife. Various cultures prepared for the afterlife in their own ways: The Egyptians removed organs and embalmed the rest, making sure to send on the heart & co. in separate jars (except the brain – who’d need that in the next world?), then sent them on their way with an army of servants (killed for the occasion); the Vikings buried their most honoured dead within a ship with their favourite animals and servants (ditto). Other cultures built pyres to send their loved ones up in smoke.

When writing came along, at first it was used to capture the past and the natural world, ala Pliny the Elder; poems, sagas, verbal tales and folklore began to be recorded; we have such writings still with us today: The Greek Epic Cycle, the Orkneyinga Sagas, the Heimskringla, the Poetic Edda.

The first novel came along only 1,000 years ago: The Japanese epic The Tale of Genji was written by a woman, Murasaki Shikibu; novels were, for several centuries more, considered on the bottom rung of the literary hierarchy ladder, far behind “serious works” like history. Ironically, Mark Twain referred to history as “fluid prejudice”; it was nearly always recorded by powerful (white) men – hardly ever by a commoner, a member of an ethnic minority, or a woman. The interpretation of events was firmly in the hands of the conquerors. Because of that fact, for instance, we know more about Rome’s version of ancient Britons (Picts, Celts) than we do from their own artefacts; most Celtic and Pictish art is found outside of the UK – many carried off by the Vikings, but that’s another tale. Hollywood has helped perpetuate some of those ancient Roman notions (think of a blue-faced Mel Gibson in Braveheart).

In fact, we don’t even know what the Picts called themselves – the term derives from the Latin Picti, first seen in the writings of Eumenius in AD 297. It can be interpreted (dangerous words) as “to paint” – but there is no evidence that any people groups in northern Britannia painted themselves. Picts is simply a generic term for any people living north of the Forth-Clyde isthmus who fought the Roman Empire’s advancements into their territories. Again, the ink of history flowed from a Roman stylus.

Even Jane Austen herself didn’t begin publishing her novels under her own name. She was a single young woman – for shame that she would dare stain the male-hallowed ground of literature. The saga of how she got published speaks to her tenacity and the support of her family. But she got the last laugh, becoming famous within her (short) lifetime, and she is far better known today than any of the stuffy old men who wrote “proper” books of her day.

The insatiable fascination with other perspectives than our own explains why novels are so popular today. They take us into another time, place and situation, leading us through a story that, if written well, we can relate to and perhaps learn something from. In 1726, Jonathan Swift gave us Gulliver’s Travels. Though he originally wrote it as political satire, to “vex the world rather than divert it”, we know it still today. The fascination with someone being a giant in one land and a miniature in the next grabs our imagination; he travels to floating kingdoms, to an island of immortals, a la Death Becomes Her, and a land of talking horses.

Book Nook (Instagram repeat)

In the age of internet, visual arts have expanded as far as the global imagination can span: Not only paintings or drawings, but even crafts take us into another perspective. I recently saw a series of images in which people have taken the humble walnut shell and turned them into tiny worlds with bookshelves, ladders, lamps, beds and creatures. Book nooks are popular, too: A tiny village, street, or room within the space of a book on a shelf. Science fiction art takes us off-planet.

Films are visual perspectives that take us into other worlds, times and places: When George Lucas showed us a “commonplace” bar scene on Tatooine in the Mos Eisley Cantina in Star Wars, he blew our minds and kicked off a new era of visual storytelling. Avatar took us to another planet and another perception of reality, all the while being an allegorical tale of ecological care vs. abuse. Somewhere along the way, sometime in your life, I’ll bet you’ve been fascinated by a different perspective, whether presented to you through a book, a documentary, a sermon, a play, a film or a conversation.  What did you learn from that encounter? How did it change you, or help shape your perspective? And what is your favourite “escape”: Films, books, visual arts, or music? Please comment below!

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Winter Visitor

I’m curious to know how many of you who read this have had Covid once or multiple times. If you’re okay with sharing that, please comment below.

I first had C-19 from March 2020 to November 2021, so “Long Covid”. Since then, I’ve had two other strains, and continue to have what I refer to as “flare days” – those days when energy suddenly takes a nosedive, joints ache and a splitting migraine suddenly shoots up from the base of my skull (and no medication has ever made a dent in those headaches – they’re 24 hours long).

It’s difficult to know if those tiny little viruses have just made my immune system oversensitive to winter bugs, or if it has to do with other health issues, but whatever the cause, I’ve been sick for 3 weeks flat. I’ve spent most of my time and energy coughing and breathing. Before it began, I had half of an interesting blog written, and I will post it as soon as I have energy enough to focus on research and complex thoughts again.

As you can imagine, being sick over Christmas and New Year put a damper on social engagements; fortunately, we didn’t have many appointments to cancel. Our Christmas was a quiet one; my husband and I exchanged gifts, but this year we did something different: We re-gave gifts. In the past, for instance, if we received several books at Christmas, we might not have had time to read all of them; I chose a few books I knew my husband would enjoy and dropped them into eco-friendly cloth gift bags (I made a variety of sizes that we use instead of wrapping paper). It was fun to see what each other chose. My husband raided my craft room and gave me random craft items! We enjoyed the fun, without the need to find, buy and add new items to our home.

I hope you had a healthy and happy Christmas and New Year’s Eve / Day! I hope you’ve not had the “winter visitor” of flus, bronchitis or Corona (other than the Mexican beer kind!), and that you stay healthy through the rest of the wintery season (if you’re in the northern hemisphere – if you’re in the southern, enjoy the warmth before your rainy season kicks in!).

I will post as soon as I can finish the article! In the meantime, just for a smile:

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Books on Sale!

From 15 December 2023 through 1 January 2024, you can get all of my books on sale for 50% off!

Just click on the image below in that time, and search for my name, Stephanie Huesler!

You can also click on the book covers below to find them directly on Books2Read. From there, you can click on the link to Smashwords, which will take you directly to the sale.

Enjoy – from 18th-century fiction to historical fantasy to science fiction!

Please share these links with your friends and family who love to read! Thank you!

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Oh, Gnome, it’s almost Christmas!

Image Credit: Familyflowers.ca

This past weekend I had a craft stand at our church’s annual advent market. Ten hours a day. I sold (as you might guess by the title), among other things, gnomes. It got me thinking about the history of these little creatures. I don’t know about where you live, but here in Switzerland, they’re popping up everywhere this season! Statues, cookie tins, ornaments, wrapping paper, socks and anything else you can think of.

You might think of garden gnomes; but the gnomes I’m referring to simply have a bushy beard, a nose, and a body with a hat on top; sometimes arms, but no eyes, though I added artisan sunglasses to some of mine, and those sold out relatively quickly. The image below is a typical Wichtel here in Switzerland.

I’d always vaguely assumed that gnomes were Scandinavian in origin, but it turns out that they are actually Swiss! First introduced in the 16th century by Paracelsus, born Theophrastus von Hohenheim, who was a Swiss physician, alchemist, lay theologian, and philosopher of the German Renaissance. The term “gnome” might have even been his own invention, based on the Latin genomos, meaning earth-dweller. Paracelsus may have been the first to describe them, but there are examples of similar myths in other cultures, too.

Perhaps the reason I’d thought of gnomes as Scandanavian is that, in the early 19th century Romantic writings, gnomes became entangled in the fairy tales which led them to becoming synonymous with goblins, leprechauns, and brownies, which are in turn similar in character to the Nordic troll. Trolls are said to live in isolated mountains, rocks or caves, and as such, are “earth-dwellers”. While the gnomes were thought to be helpful, trolls were rather unhelpful. Scandinavia does have a gnome-type character as well, known as the Danish and Norwegian nisse, the Swedish tomte, or Finnish tonttu, as well as many dialectical names throughout Scandinavia. In German, they are known as Gartenzwerg or Wichtel.

In folklore, gnomes were thought to be short, stout guardians of mines, treasures, and precious stones, and were the antithesis of the tall and slender elves. JRR Tolkien was likely influenced by these legends when creating his races of dwarves and elves.

The practice of garden statues goes back to ancient Rome, where they set up idols thought to help plants thrive and protect animals. by the 18th century, however, such garden statues were simply seen as a status symbol of wealthier families. The statuary as we think of it today is visually based on the Disney dwarves of Snow White; before that, their look was less homogeneous. Over time, they fell into disfavour among serious gardeners; at the Chelsea Garden Show in the UK, they were banned for several years; the powers that be were accused of snobbery, as garden gnomes were popular among the working class; they were eventually allowed in the show’s garden designs once again.

Garden gnomes in particular are something that you either find adorable or tacky. Like any display piece, if it’s done well, they can add a touch of whimsy to your garden or home.

The topic is one of those rabbit holes you could easily dive into; the traditions of the gnome, after all, go back thousands of years.

A Scandanavian Tomte, or German Wichtel

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History Undusted: Jumièges Abbey

Jumièges Abbey is one of the oldest Benedictine monasteries in Normandy; to dive into its history is akin to diving down Alice’s rabbit hole. For instance, I could say that the abbey was sponsored by the Frankish Queen Balthild, as she persuaded her husband, King Clovis II, to donate land to the Frankish nobleman Filibertus in order to found an abbey. But to know who she was, ah, that is where the intrigue begins.

Who and where were the Franks, when were they a thing, and what are they to us today?

Who, where and when: They were a Western European people who began as a Germanic people along the lower Rhine (which flows from Bonn, Germany, and ends up in the North Sea at the southwestern corner of the Netherlands), along the northern frontier of the Roman Empire. During the Middle Ages, they expanded their scope of rule as the Western Roman Empire began to collapse, and they imposed their power over many post-Roman kingdoms and beyond. That’s the crux of the matter though, as with any political history, it’s far more complex than that. The Franks are distinguished into two main groups by historians: The Salian Franks, to the west, and the Rhineland Franks, to the east.

In the mid-5th century, The Salian king, Childeric I, was a commander of Roman forces against the Gauls, most of whom Childeric and his son, Clovis I, conquered in the 6th century. Clovis was the first king of the Franks to unite the Frankish tribes under one ruler, and he founded the Merovingian dynasty – which ruled the Frankish tribes for 2 centuries. Clovis, in essence, is known as the first king of what would become France. As a side note, the Frankish name of Clovis is at the root of the French name of Louis, borne by eighteen kings of France.

Now, back to Queen Balthild (AD 626 – 680): Sold into slavery as a young girl, she was beautiful and intelligent. She served in the household of Erchinoald, the mayor of the palace of Neustria to Clovis II. Her master, a widower, wanted to marry her, but she hid herself from his sight until he married someone else (apparently the household of servants was numerous enough to enable her to avoid her unwanted suitor). Perhaps through Erchinoald’s notice of her, she came to the attention of Clovis II, who proposed to her and was accepted; hiding herself away may have been a political tactic to gain a higher rank with the king than with the mayor; According to the Vita Sancti Wilfrithi by Stephen of Ripon (written around AD 710), Bathild was a ruthless ruler, in conflict with the bishops and perhaps responsible for several assassinations. Some historians interpret Queen Balthild’s association with founding monasteries as a way of balancing or neutralizing aristocratic opposition to her rule. By installing her own bishops and donating lands for abbeys, she strengthened her own power as ruler (she was regent during the minority of her son). To put that in proper perspective, she was no different than most male counterparts of her day. [I could go off on a tangent about how adjectives differ when applied to the male or female state of affairs (a man is ambitious; a woman is pushy or ruthless), but I won’t. Yet.] From most accounts, however, she was pious and humble. Whichever way you butter that croissant, in ca. 860 she was canonized, thereafter to be referred to as Saint Balthild…

In 654, Balthild gave a parcel of royal land to Philibert, or Filibertus, on which he founded the Notre Dame de Jumièges. His main spiritual influence was that of the Irish monk, Columbanus (who founded several monasteries in the Frankish and Lombardi kingdoms).  The abbey flourished until the Viking invasions of 841 (Remember Rolf Ganger?), which caused disruptions to its first momentum, but it soon began to prosper again. The church itself was rebuilt between 1040 and 1066; it was dedicated on 1 July 1067, with none other present than William the Conqueror, Duke of Normandy and King of England (1066 and all that). The patronage of such a nobleman ensured the abbey’s success.

Jumièges Abbey was, like any abbey of its time, a veritable town. The church was only the heart of the community; there was a 14-acre enclosed park, terraced gardens, the abbatial manor, a bakery, landscaping to evoke biblical scenes, a hostelry, the 14th century “Charles VII” walkway (a covered walkway between the Notre Dame and St Peter’s church, named after the fact that Charles VII and his favourite mistress visited the monastery), and the cloister.

The next major disruption was from 1415, when the monks were forced to regularly seek refuge in Rouen as the English occupied Normandy during the Hundred Years’ War. The abbey eventually recovered and began to flourish again, until the whole province was plunged into the chaos of the Wars of Religion (1562-1598), resulting in the population’s decimation and famine. In 1649, the abbey was taken over by a Benedictine congregation, when some of its former glory was revitalized. Having survived all of that, its ruin came at the hands of the French Revolution, when it was sold as a “national property” and turned into a stone quarry (seen only as a source of ready-cut stones). At last, its historical value was recognized in the 19th century, putting an end to its wanton deconstruction.

When we visited the abbey last summer, its grandeur, although only ruins today, is still evident; when it was at its height of prosperity, it must have been an awesome sight to behold! In the photos below, which I took during our visit, you can see evidence of the various phases of destruction and reconstruction. Enjoy!

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History Undusted: Rolf Ganger, Viking Outlaw and Founder of Normandy

How does a rabble-rousing Viking end up causing a war centuries after his death (as if stirring up trouble during his lifetime wasn’t enough fun and gigs)? Read on… this is going to be a quick, deep dive into history, so buckle up!

Firstly, let’s start with Rolf Ganger, aka Rollo, Rolloun, Rollon, or Hrôlfr – depending on which language you read. On his tomb, the Latin version of his name is Rollonis (see image).

Tomb of Rollonis (Rolf) Ganger, the first ruler of Normandy, in Rouen Cathedral (He’d probably roll in his grave to find himself so simperingly portrayed…!)

The Heimskringla is a collection of ancient Norwegian sagas about Norwegian kings and rulers, written by Snorri Sturluson (great name, by the way) around AD 1230. It tells us that Rolf was the oldest legitimate son of Earl Ragnvald, best friend of King Harald Harfager (“Fair Hair” – a nickname given to him by the Earl due to Harald’s thick, fair hair), who was the first king of Norway, reigning from ca. AD 872 to 930. It tells us that Rolf was so hefty that no horse could carry his weight; thus, he had no choice but to walk everywhere, from which Ganger, his second name derives (I cannot find a direct translation of the meaning of the name, but Germanic languages have similar words: In German, “gehen” means go or walk; “gangart” means gait, or way of walking).

Harald Harfagre, First King of Norway – Statue in Haugusund, Norway

He was rowdy, even by Viking standards. Heimskringla records that he plundered most of the East Sea (likely referring to what is now the region around the Baltic Sea). Then, “One summer, as he was coming from the east on a Viking’s expedition to the coast of Viken*, he landed there and made a cattle foray. As King Harald happened, just at that time, to be in Viken, he heard of it, and was in a great rage; for he had forbid, by the greatest punishment, the plundering within the bounds of the country. The king assembled a Thing**, and had Rolf declared an outlaw over all Norway.”

*Viken was a region that lay over the modern border between Norway and Sweden.

**To assemble a Thing means to gather a council or general assembly. These still take place in some parts of Switzerland, as well as on the Isle of Man and in Scotland; the Icelandic Althing is considered the oldest active, surviving parliament in the world, dating back to the AD 900s. The first detailed description of such a Thing was made by Tacitus, a Roman historian and senator, in AD 98; the oldest reference to a Thing is inscribed on a stone near Hadrian’s Wall, dated as early as AD 43.

According to the Heimskringla, Rolf, now banished from Norway, headed toward the Hebrides, and from there to “Valland” [In Norse legend, Valland is the name of the part of Europe which is inhabited by Celtic and Romance peoples, and Snorri Sturluson mentions it several times as the Old Norse name for Gaul, which was a region of Western Europe first clearly described by the Romans, encompassing present-day France, Belgium, Luxembourg, and parts of Switzerland, the Netherlands, Germany, and Northern Italy, and covering an area of around 494,000 km2.].

Arriving in Gaul, he did what he did best – went a-Viking, plundering and pillaging and “subduing for himself a great earldom”. He populated it with his own best rabble of Norsemen, which the French called Normanz, literally “north men” which quickly led to the Anglicized term Normans (similar to the word for the people group and language, Norse).

One of the places known to have been invaded by the Vikings in AD 841 is the Jumièges Abbey, which is along the Seine River on its way to Rouen, which they also ransacked. At some point (around AD 885), Rolf also raided Bayeux, carrying off a woman, Popa (whose lineage is unverified – later historians for the duke may have sanitized her parentage to legitimize their son’s noble lineage, as she was married “more danico”). She gave birth to his heir, William Longsword. When Rolf and his gang were all done hacking their way through towns and villages along the Seine, they eventually made their way back to Rouen, where he established the Duchy of Normandy in AD 912.

So, how did Rolf cause a war centuries later? Well, his son, William Longsword, fathered a son, Richard the Fearless (who became ruler of Normandy at the age of 10 when his father died). Richard’s son was called Richard the Good, and he became the father of Robert the Magnificent and grandfather to the illegitimate William the Bastard, who became known as William the Conqueror (a sword seems to have cleared up his illegitimacy quite neatly) – from whom all the subsequent English kings descended. Now to the crux of the matter: William, descendent of Rolf Ganger, fathered English kings, who thus claimed their right to the Norman throne by connection, birth, rank… in short, any excuse for raiding was still in their blood. Rouen was one of the largest and most prosperous cities of medieval Europe, and (as mentioned in my last post) was made wealthy through textiles and trade along the Seine River and beyond. Rouen became the focal point of the Hundred Years’ War (1337-1453) because of that pesky connection. So now ya know!

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