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Friday, April 17, 2015

Roman “Meatloaf”

By Todd H. C. Fischer, known in the SCA as THLaird Colyne Stewart, April AS 49 (2015)

As a member of the Royal Guild of Ealdormerian Feast Cooks, I was earlier this year charged with researching a recipe for inclusion in a guild calendar (to come out in 2016). While perusing the Medieval Cookery site I came across a recipe that purported to be for Roman meatloaf. As I love meatloaf, I was intrigued and decided to try my hand at redacting the original recipe.

The redaction I found helpfully noted that it had come from a book called De Re Coquinaria (“On the Subject of Cooking”), though it is more commonly known as Apicius (a name that had been closely associated with food since Marcus Gavius Apicius became a renowned gourmand in the 1st century). The book Apicius was compiled in the 4th or 5th century and is easily available thanks to Project Gutenberg.
My ingredients.
I found the original version of Apicius (in the Latin) and located the recipe that Medieval Cookery had called “Roman Meatloaf”. The original recipe (which actually had no name) read as follows:

adicies in mortarium piper, ligusticum, origanum, 13fricabis, suffundes liquamen, adicies cerebella cocta, teres diligenter, ne assulas habeat. adicies ova quinque et dissolves diligenter, ut unum corpus efficias. liquamine temperas et in patella aenea exinanies, coques. cum coctum fuerit, versas in tabula munda, tessellas concides. adicies in mortarium piper, ligusticum, origanum, fricabis in se, commisces, <mittes> in caccabum, facies ut ferveat. cum ferbuerit, tractum confringes, obligas, coagitabis, et exinanies in boletari. piper asperges et appones.

The herbs in the mortar.
Thankfully, as my understanding of Latin is limited, Project Gutenberg also offered Vehling’s translation which he called “Brain Sausage”:

Put in the mortar pepper, lovage, and origany, moisten with broth and rub; add cooked brains and mix diligently so that there be no lumps. Incorporate five eggs and continue mixing well to have a good forcemeat which you may thin with broth. Spread this out in a metal pan, cook, and when cooked [cold] unmould it onto a clean table. Cut into handy size. [Now prepare a sauce.] Put in the mortar pepper, lovage, and origany, crush, mix with broth, put into a sauce pan, boil, thicken, and strain. Heat the pieces of brain pudding in this sauce thoroughly, dish them up, sprinkled with pepper, in a mushroom dish.

Seasoning the meat.
Needless to say, I opted to replace the brains with something else (in this case, ground beef). I was able to verify (thanks to Raghavan’s Handbook to Spices, Seasonings and Flavoring) that origany was another name for oregano. As I had no lovage (at first) I opted to replace it with a mix of celery seed and minced celery leaves (as several cooking websites suggested such a substitution for lovage). I prepared my “meatloaf” (as I prefer to think of it) and then my sauce. I again made a small deviation from the original recipe by putting sliced mushrooms in the sauce, rather than serving the meat in a large mushroom cap (which I assume is what was meant by a “mushroom dish”.)

Adding the eggs.
While my tasters and I agreed that the final product tasted fine, it was thought that the celery taste was a little strong. Also, though the recipe said the broth would thicken, it did not (which did not surprise me as there was no thickening agent listed in the recipe).

Another member of the guild, who has previously won an award at Queen’s Prize Tourney for her herbs, gave me some lovage and I adjusted my recipe to use this herb as per the author’s original intent. This time my tasters and I were much more enthusiastic in our reactions. The lovage worked much better than the celery had.

The meat, cooked and cooling in the pan.
My recipe ended up as follows:


2 pounds ground beef
5 eggs
1½ tsp dried oregano (or 2 tbsp fresh)
1 tsp black pepper
Beef broth to moisten
3 tsp dried lovage (or 3 tbsp fresh)
Or instead of lovage
2 tsp celery seed and 2 tbsp diced celery leaves

Place oregano, black pepper and lovage (or celery seed and leaves) in mortar and grind. Put herbs in large mixing bowl and slightly moisten with beef broth. Mix well until smooth. Add five eggs. Mix well until smooth. Place mixture in a lightly oiled pan and cook at 350º for 50 to 60 minutes. Let the meat cool, then remove it from the pan and cut it into several pieces. Serve with sauce and sprinkled pepper.

Cooking the sauce.

2 cups beef broth
6 mushrooms, sliced
3 tsp dried oregano (or 2 tbsp fresh)
1 tsp black pepper
½ tsp dried lovage (or 1½ tbsp fresh)
Or instead of lovage
2 tsp celery seed and 3 tbsp diced celery leaves
Stale bread or pastry, crumbled

Place oregano, black pepper and lovage (or celery seed and leaves) in mortar and grind. Add herbs and broth to pot and bring to a boil. Add crumbled bread or pastry (as a thickening agent, if desired) and sliced mushrooms and cook until mushrooms are tender. Place meatloaf in large skillet and heat. Add sauce. Sprinkle with pepper and serve.
Reheating the meat in the sauce before serving.

Anon., Apicius (De Re Coquinaria), 4th or 5th century, Project Gutenberg, August 4, 2005, http://www.gutenberg.org/files/16439/16439-h/16439-h.htm

Debbage, Felice, “Roman Meatloaf”, Medieval Cookery, November 4, 2010, http://medievalcookery.com/recipes/meatloaf.html

Raghavan, Susheela, Handbook to Spices, Seasonings and Flavoring, Second Edition, CRC Press, Florida, 2007.

Vehlig, Joseph Dommers, trans., Cooking and Dining in Imperial Rome, 1936, Trans. of Apicius (De Re Coquinaria) by Anon., Project Gutenberg, August 19, 2009, http://www.gutenberg.org/files/29728/29728-h/29728-h.htm

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Small Press Advice

Todd Fischer, co-editor and co–publisher of imelod Publications, answers some questions about starting a zine. The questions have been paraphrased from their original email format.

I am interested in starting a small press zine and am wondering if you can offer me any pointers on how to make my zine successful.

We'll give you what ever help we can, which is one of the ways we ourselves have grown. Most zines are very willing to share information with each other, and if we don't have an answer you’re looking for, ask some others.

We found that trying to sell a zine in a book store on consignment (where they only pay you for what they sell) is pretty much hopeless. The zine ends up getting buried behind other merchandise, and no one can even find it. However, many comic shops, small book stores, and even large chain stores will carry it. So it’s your call if you want to try and distribute yourself that way. We sell most of our publications either through distribution or our website. We found that distributors can work in two ways. Either they'll advertise your publication, and then place an order with you if someone places an order with them, or they will buy a bunch upfront. For the publisher, the second is the preferred method, as those copies are now sold. If the distributor can't sell them, they are stuck with them. The downside to that is if the copies don't move, the distributor likely won't order more. You'll have to find distributors that deal with publications of your genre. Ours is horror, so most of our contacts may not be of help, but here they are:

David Wynn, Mythos Books, 218 Hickory Meadow Lane, Poplar Bluff, MO 63901 USA (573)785-7710 dwynn@ldd.net; Stuff, c/o Paul Houston, 5879 Darlington Road, Pittsburgh, PA 15217 USA;

Chris Drumm Books, PO Box 440, Pol City, Iowa 50226-0440, USA; and Stars Our Destination, c/o Alice Bentley, 1021 West Belmont,
Chicago, IL 60657-3302, USA stars@sfbooks.com http://www.sfbooks.com/ Voice (773) 871-2722 Fax (773) 871-6816

If not interested in your genre, they may be able to direct you to distributors who are.

If you have any suggestions or helpful advice, I will be most grateful.  I'd like to hear how you got started and the measures you took to get where you are today. Also, do you have any distributors?  What newsstands sell imelod and your chapbooks? 

Get in contact with other zines, and arrange ad swaps with them. This is something that we do constantly, and it gives your publication wide exposure. Send out as many review copies as you can afford, as this will also give you good exposure. You won't know how, but world will begin to spread. Though we never received an order from Italy, one of our zines was wonderfully reviewed recently on an Italian webzine. Ad swaps and reviews will spread awareness of your publication around the world (we now have contacts in the Netherlands, Portugal, the UK, Scotland, the US, Brazil and so on). If you can, go to small press shows in your area. You can listings for these in local literary newspapers or listings.

We started out very small, basically doing the zine just for fun, but now, through the helpful advice of other small press publishers, we publish four issues of imelod a year, four chapbooks per year (at least) as well as various other projects. It takes time and patience, and some luck as well, but the rewards are worth the wait.

I am wondering about your chapbooks.  I am beginning a press and I'd like to know how you are printing/distributing them.  As far as printing goes, I'd like to know what you pay for each one and if you print them one at a time upon order or if you print them in bulk at an actual printing company.  We were planning on printing them individually because we have free access to a high-quality laser printer that will take care of everything for us besides the covers.

We print ours via a photocopier in the basement of our workplace, where we have a special deal set up with the owner. As we do the photocopying ourselves, and often use our own paper, our cost is much reduced. We print 50 copies at a time; when they run out, we just run off some more. We also have a laser printer, so we make our own covers at home one at a time.

I know distributors can be a problem when printing on demand as I am.  Do you go through distributors?  Do you use ISBNs? 

Besides word of mouth, small press books fairs and our website we do go through distributors. We've found that many won't respond to your queries however, even if you send an SASE so it can be frustrating getting in contact with them. Here are some addresses you can start with:

Chris Drumm Books
PO Box 440
Pol City, Iowa 50226-0440
This guy never got back to us...

Cthulhu Bob
Hastur Hobbies
2257 South 1100 East
Suite 2B
Salt Lake City, Utah 84106
Tel: 801-467-9814
Fax: 801-485-4997
A hobby store that bought some of our stuff...

Richard Grinnell
aka Richard Longcoat
Miskatonic University
P.O. Box 1205
El Toro, CA 92630-1205
(949) 837-9240
They bought some of our Lovecraft related stuff to sell through their site...

Stars Our Destination
c/o Alice Bentley
1021 West Belmont
Chicago, IL 60657-3302
Voice (773) 871-2722
Fax (773) 871-6816
Never got back to us...

c/o Paul Houston

5879 Darlington Road
Pittsburgh, PA 15217

David Wynn,
Mythos Books

218 Hickory Meadow Lane
Poplar Bluff, MO 63901 USA

Jon Hodges
Project Pulp

Sunday, November 28, 2010

The TankArd 50, but not Rusty Yet

Written for 'TankArd', an SCA journal, 2002.

When I first became the chronicler for the canton of Ardchreag I did a quick count and found that, after moving from a bi-monthly to a monthly publication schedule the 50th issue would fall within my term. I was very excited by this, and it is one of the regrets I have about leaving the post early. I was really looking forward to doing this issue. However, I cannot think of anyone I would rather have seen take over than Lady Mahault van der Eych.

In my time as canton chronicler I got to work closely with many members of the populace as I got to pester people for articles and event reports. I worked with the other officers to get and disseminate as much information as possible through the chronicle. Most of all I had fun.

In all the things I have tried since joining the SCA I have fit into none of them as I have fit into the chronicler’s role. I like the fighting, the research, the bardic arts and the games, but I love to chronicle.

When I became the Septentrian chronicler I sent out an introductory letter in which I said:

As you can tell, I am passionate about publishing, and I hope you all are too! When I got my last warrant I saw that there were only two warranted Chroniclers in Septentria, and only five in Ealdormere overall, and that's just disgraceful. We have a rich and diverse populace with many skills and talents to record. We have songs, stories and poems that need to be archived. Changes to Law, Arts and Sciences articles, missives, records, journals and reports to log. Too often in the SCA our history is forgotten because nobody wrote anything down.

We need to change that.

Although it is not mandatory for the local levels (Canton and Shire) to produce a newsletter, I think every group should. It serves as an important record of the history of your group, and is an invaluable resource to be given out to newcomers. It shows them who you are, what you are about, and gives them important contact information. It also gives them something to do right away while they wait to find their niche. They can write for you!

I still believe that, and I hope that the future chroniclers of The TankArd will continue the good work of all those who came before. People like Lord Sam Forkbeard, Lord Raffe Scholemaystre, Lady Alaani (known as Elf), myself, and Lady Mahault van der Eych.

Long live The TankArd, and may it never get rusty.


The Village of Ardchreag: Creating a persona for the canton, and acting upon it

Written for the SCA.

Part I: Ardchreag Canton Persona
February 16, AS 38 (2004)


There had been talk in Ardchreag of crafting for the canton a ‘persona’ of its own, not unlike its neighbouring Canton of Eoforwic. However, while Eoforwic called itself the Royal Citie, it had been agreed that Ardchreag was more of a town, or village, in scope.

But what kind of village?

Let us begin with the name. Ardchreag (Ard Creag) is Gaelic for ‘high cliffs’, which gives the canton an Irish or Highland Scotland flavour. If we then assume that Ardchreag has such an ancestry, it would explain the presence of all those Norse we see around today as well (for at times both the Irish and the Scots had great contact with the Norse).

The founders of Ardchreag were known as archers, and that fact is represented in the device of the canton: vert, four arrows in cross points to center, on a chief indented argent a mountain couped gules between two laurel wreaths vert. Mundanely, Ardchreag is located along bluffs and cliffs, with large tracts of forest and woodland. Both these facts give a frontier flavour to the canton. It calls up images of rangers and woodsmen, of woodcutters and outlaws, of wise women living deep in the thickets and prowling wolves close at hand.

So it was said that within our fine kingdom of Ealdormere, the Canton of Ardchreag, which is spread over a great deal of land, was a series of forts and villages and lone peasant huts. It sits atop a high series of cliffs, which descend to Mare Ontarium at certain points in which ports have grown. It is a frontier, a border town, for across the inland sea lies the Barony of Rhydderich Hael, a territory of the Kingdom of AEthelmarc. It was up to the populace of Ardchreag to patrol this border, to ensure that the waterways and paths throughout the thick forests were safe for merchants and travelers, to protect it all in the name of His Majesty. They must stand on their own, for the Sheriff of the Royal Citie, or the Guard of Petrea Thule, lie many miles away. They must support themselves, in all ways.

Now, how does such a community conduct itself? How does it work? In a Society context the canton has several officers which help find meeting spaces, organize practices, schedule classes, and so on. This is administration. What type of people really would have lived in such a village in period?

The village positions:

Herein we will look at what occupations would have been held in a similar village in period. For simplicity, we used a village from Elton (circa 1300 CE) as our sample.

For Ardchreag’s canton persona, we made village appointments that were actually made in our model period. We did not assign occupations (miller, baker, etc), nor social position per say (such as village idiot or hedge witch). We were looking at positions that villagers made appointments to from amongst their own number. (Villagers did not elect the blacksmith, not the town drunk.)

In period, only men held village positions, except for ale tasters (who were mostly women). However, in our experiment, any one could hold any position, regardless of sex. We decided to select the canton appointments in the following manner: Everyone interested in a position would place their name in a hat. A name would be pulled, and that person would hold that position for a pre-determined period of time (at first we thought for a year, but have now changed that to six months). Once someone had a position they cold not put their name in for another.

If someone wished to apply for any positions, but could not be present for the meeting at which they were being chosen, they could, if they wished, send the seneschal a list of their preferred positions, and they would be appointed by proxy. It was noted that if anyone chose this option they may not get the exact position they may have wanted, but they would definitely get a position.

The headman in the village would have been the steward, or seneschal. As we use the term seneschal as the ‘president’ of our branches within the SCA, we would not be using this position in our experiment. Rather, the actual group seneschal would automatically also be the village seneschal. The village seneschal was the lord’s direct authority within the village and was the only position not chosen by the villagers themselves. If the group seneschal wants to obtain a canton appointment, s/he should not be the bailiff, reeve or beadle.

The bailiff was usually chosen at the seneschal’s recommendation (though that would not come into play in our experiment) and acted as his deputy. He was usually a member of the gentry or a well off peasant family and was literate. The bailiff was in charge of maintaining the law, and also acted as a business manager for the manor. For our purposes, the bailiff would be the head of the Cliffguard and the Yeoman of the White Arrow. (Though s/he did not actually have to be a fighter nor an archer it was encouraged that s/he be both). The group seneschal would pull the name for the person to act as the bailiff. The bailiff would pull the names for the rest of the positions.

One of the bailiff’s deputies was the reeve, who ensured that villagers who owed labour services showed up for work. He supervised the formation of plow teams, mended his lord’s fences, saw to the penning and folding of the lord’s livestock and had many other duties as well. For the canton persona, the reeve’s ‘duties’ were originally undefined. They mostly came into play when the manorial court was reenacted, as he was a most sought after pledge (witness).

The beadle, also sometimes called a hayward, was a deputy to the reeve. The beadle collected rents and fines levied in court and oversaw the preservation of seed, the performance of plowmen and ensured the villeins did their reaping and mowing. For Ardchreag’s experiment, the beadle’s ‘duties’ were originally undefined. They mostly came into play when the manorial court was reenacted, as he was a most sought after pledge (witness) and also collected the fines.

The woodward was the person who ensured that no one took from the lord’s lands anything except what they were entitled to by custom or payment.

Ale tasters assessed the quality and monitored the price of ale sold to the public. People could be fined for selling ale without first going through the ale tasters. For Ardchreag’s experiment, ale tasters would likely (though not necessarily) be brewers themselves, and would act as the canton’s authority on brewing. This is one of the positions which more than one person can fill. One of the things the Ale Tasters duties ended up being was to help plan the annual brewing contest held at Ealdormere War Practice (done in the memory of Lord Ulrich von der See).

In manorial court, the jurors, chosen from amongst the villagers, collected and presented evidence and laid out fines. In period a “jury of presentment” would have six, nine or twelve jurors. In Ardchreag’s experiment, twice a year the village would hold a manorial court, where the jurors would sit in judgment upon those accused of crimes. (Originally it was to be held once a year, but the response was overwhelmingly in favour of doing it twice a year.) These crimes will all be facetious, and based upon real period crimes in a medieval village. It was a good opportunity for some canton fund raising, and this is explained in further detail later. This is one of the positions which more than one person can fill (Ardchreag settled on three, to eliminate ties).

Within a village, every man over the age of twelve was placed in a frankpledge (or tithing) of ten or twelve members. Each member was responsible for the conduct of his pledge-mates. Each year a review of the tithings was held, watched over by the seneschal. The head of a frankpledge was called a Chief Pledge. The chief pledges were deemed important men in the village. For Ardchreag’s purposes the position would be mainly ceremonially, but those holding it would be encouraged to carry themselves nobly in all walls, to inspire the rest of the canton to do so as well. We settled on having two Chief Pledges, one representing each of the major colours in the Ardchreag device. They were a much sought after pledge in the manor courts (as will be described later).

So, the positions Ardchreag would be filling were: bailiff, reeve, beadle, woodward, ale taster (4), juror (3) and chief pledge (2). (If we had had more than thirteen people who wished to participate, we would either have added more ale tasters and jurors, or we would added some of the more minor village appointments to the slate, such as the wardens of autumn and the claviger.)

We also recognized the Cliffguard and the Yeoman of the White Arrow. The Yeomen encompassed archery and thrown weapons, the Cliffguard encompassed armoured combat, scouting, equestrian and fencing. These two groups were to ‘keep the peace’ within our canton and be our protectors. Anyone could be a member of either, and it would not impinge on any other duties they may have militarily. (This was mostly just for fun. Duties to the kingdom, barony or Peer took precedence.) The seneschal created belt favours for members of these two groups to carry.

Nota Bene:

Please note that all these positions are for fun. They hold no real power or responsibility within the canton, the barony, the kingdom or in the SCA as a whole. The Officers of Ardchreag are our duly elected representatives. These ‘village appointments’ are meant to enhance our game, to add a lair of realism and role-playing, and to encourage people to research the occupation they are granted.

The appointments:

Therefore, having found the canton to be deficient in the matter of the aforementioned appointments, did Laird Colyne Stewart, currently the Seneschal of the Canton of Ardchreag, in the name of our liege, His Majesty Sir Rory Cennedi, grant the following appointments:

Gunnarr skald Thorvaldsson, Bailiff

Yosho, Reeve

Thomas, Beadle

Thorfinna gra’felder, Woodward

Colyne Stewart, Naja Kesali, Keelyn, Jurors

Tarian verch Gadarn, Berend van der Eych, Mahault van der Eych, Sof’ia Bardeva, Ale Tasters

Robert deBray, Wat of Sarum, Chief Pledges

Also, Colyne Stewart and Thorfinna gra’feldr were recognized as members of the Cliffguard, while Gunnarr Skald Thorvaldsson, Naja Kesali, Iolanda de Albornoz, Colyne and Thorfinna were recognized as members of the Yeoman of the White Arrow. (Further appointments to both branches of Ardchreag’s armed might were made later.)

Further more, several members of the village were divided into Robert and Wat’s tithings. At the beginning of the experiment, Wat's Green Tithing contained Thorfinna, Gunnarr, Mahault, Thomas, Colyne and Naja, while Robert's White Tithing had Berend, Keelyn, Yosho, Tarian and Sof'ia.

Part II: The Manorial Court System

May AS 39 (2004)

Courts in 14th Century England
There were at least three kinds of court systems existing in England in the 14th Century. The first was the Royal Court, where high level crimes were heard (like murder, heresy against the Crown, etc), church courts (judging over matters of the soul, such as adultery, validity of marriages, etc) and manorial courts (where the common villager—hopefully— found justice.

The Trials

Trials were held at a hallmote, a gathering of the villagers, generally held in the autumn and outdoors when weather allowed. This was also the time when the reeve, beadle and wardens of autumn were elected. The hallmote was presided over by the manor steward, but he did not act as judge. He gave this authority to the jurati: twelve or six sworn men, whose oaths extended between court sessions. They collected and presented evidence, along with appropriate law, the custom of the manor and village bylaws. If they did not bring a case to trial they could be charged with “concealment”.

The charge would be laid, read by the clerk of the court, who kept a careful record of the proceedings. The accused would then make answer. The steward then told the accused to come to the next hallmote with such and such a number of oath helpers (to come “six-handed” meant to come with five oath helpers). These oath helpers were basically witnesses to the defense. Both the defendant and plaintiff were then ordered to find pledges to guarantee their appearance in court (if they did not come to the next hallmote, they and their pledges would be fined). The higher status the pledge held in the village the better (the most sought after being the beadle and reeve).

If a case was settled out of court, before the next hallmote, both parties paid the lord for “license to agree”.

By the next hallmote, the jurors should have gathered evidence on the case. The defendant and his pledge were called, and they pled their case again. The jurors would then give their decision. If the plaintiff or defendant “put themselves upon the consideration of the whole court” the villagers gathered would (generally) back the jurors decision. (After all, it was safe to back the jurors, as you would not want them angry with you if you were called before them.)

Generally those found guilty were subject to a fine (it was a great money making venture for the lord of the manor). Wordings of sentences would often include the clause that the crime had been “to the damage of the lord” or to “the village.” Occasionally, the condemned were sentenced to punishment (such as a term in the stocks).

Review of the Frankpledge (Tithing)
A second type of manor court was the annual review of the manor tithings (also known as frankpledges). A tithing was a group of twelve men, each responsible for the behaviour of his fellows. (In fact, a man’s tithing was responsible to ensure he showed up in court if he was to do so.) Each tithing was headed by a chief pledge, who was held in esteem in the village. The steward would review each pledge, hear complaints, and make sure each man over the age of twelve was placed in a tithing. This was usually conducted in the late winter or spring, and was generally the time when the ale tasters were chosen. Eventually the matters of law conducted at the reviews were done in the hallmote when all other crimes were tried.

Types of Crimes

The following is an incomplete listing of crimes that could be committed upon a manor.

Defying the ban against baking bread: Villagers had to buy their bread from the village baker.

Defying the ban against grinding grain: Villagers had to take their grain to the village miller. It was illegal to own a hand mill.

Diversion of a water course

Not penning your sheep in the lord’s fold, or penning a neighbour’s animal: Villagers had to pen their animals in the lord’s fold, as the manure was collected for his fields.

Waif and stray: A villager’s animal wandering loose on the lord’s land would be seized, and a fine paid before it would be released.

Making a rescue: Taking back your strayed animal before paying the fine.

Leirwite or legerwite: A fine paid by a father when his daughter had sex out of wedlock.

Failure to pay heushire (house hire): The rent for the house on a holding.

Failure to pay tallage: A yearly tax.

Failure to pay gersum: A tax paid upon inheriting land.

Failure to pay heriot: A death tax. When a vellien died the lord got his best beast, the rector got the second best.

Failure to pay merchet: A tax paid by a bride or her father upon her marriage.

Failure to pay chevage: A tax allowing a vellien to live outside the village.

Careless planting of seeds

Stealing hay, vegetables, seeds, etc

Harbouring strangers: Villagers (and the lord) were often suspicious of strangers.

Beast committing trespass in the lord’s meadow or grain: If a villager’s animal trod on the lord’s land.

Beasts treading on grain: If a villager’s animal trod on another’s grain.


Hamsoken: Assaulting someone in their own house.

Stealing animals

Sued for debt


Coming late to reaping, or infringing on the reaping


Being a fornicatrix: Being charged as a whore.

Murder: This was rarely judged in a manor court, it was usually arbitrated in the royal courts.

Stealing a furrow: Letting your plow edge onto your neighbour’s field.

Gleaning grain without permission

Weak ale/over priced ale/imprecise measurements: Ale tasters took their job very seriously, and many of the crimes in manor court roles had to do with brewing infractions. Brewers could be charged if their ale was weak in flavour, if it was over priced, or if the quantity sold was not as advertised.

Sold before the tasting: Selling ale before the ale tasters have been at it

Making a disturbance in court

Cursing at jurors during court

Failure to pay for the right to raise chickens: The cost was one hen.

Fishing in the village brook: Poaching.

Killing the lord’s deer: Poaching.

Hue and cry: To call for help to catch the perpetrator of a crime. If you falsely raised the hue and cry, or did not assist in one when called, you would be fined.

Failure to arrest: If the beadle, reeve or bailiff failed to arrest someone after a hue and cry, they could be fined.

Corruption: Manor officials (reeves, beadles, etc) could be accused of taking bribes, of lining their pockets and of mismanagement.

The Village of Ardchreag’s
Manorial Court

As part of the Canton of Ardchreag’s village persona, a manorial court was scheduled to be held.

Each person attending the court was asked to bring with them a number of gold coins (loonies). Everyone would then be allowed to make period accusations against others present. (Please note that for this reenactment, no one could accuse the jurors, or those acting as the lord and/or lady of the manor, of a crime.) Those accused had to then arrange for pledges to back their case, while their accuser did the same. Money would likely change hands to ensure pledges. The jurors would then hear all sides, and then laid their verdict. Defendants found guilty of the crime would pay a fine. If the defendant was found innocent, then the plaintiff would be fined. Fines were to be collected by the village’s beadle (or a representative of him). Participants were told \ to be sure to pace out how ever many coins they had brought with them, for if they run out of money with which to pay fines, the jurors would be forced to hand out punishments instead. (Unless of course the guilty knew of the period defense of being poor. This allowed those found guilty to not have to pay any fine nor face any punishment for most crimes.)

All money raised by the fines were to be used to off-set costs related to Ealdormere War Practice.


Bishop, Morris, The Middle Ages. Boston: The  Houghton Mifflen Company, 1968.

Giles, Joseph and Frances, Life in a Medieval Village. NY: Harper Perennial, 1990.

Part III: Ardchreag’s Re-enactment of a
Manorial Court

June 8, AS 39 (2004)

On June 7, Ardchreag acted out a manorial court. Each person wishing to participate brought with them a certain number of gold coins (loonies). The amount of money brought was up to each participant, and should not be any more than they would be willing to have donated to the canton. (This exercise was, in part, a fundraiser for the canton after all.)

In attendance that night were:

Corwyn Galbraith, Lord of the Manor
Domhnail Galbraith, Lady of the Manor
Colyne Stewart, juror, member of the Green Tithing, Yeoman of the White Arrow, member of the Cliffguard
Keelyn, juror, member of the White Tithing, member of the Cliffguard
Naja Kesali, juror, member of the Green Tithing, Yeoman of the White Arrow
Yosho, reeve, member of the White Tithing, member of the Cliffguard
Thomas, beadle, member of the Green Tithing
Wulfgang Donnerfaust, Chief Pledge of the White Tithing, member of the Cliffguard
Lina Carville, member of the White Tithing
Pierre, representative of the Royal Court
Thorfinna gra'feldr, woodward, member of the Green Tithing, Yeoman of the White Arrow, member of the Cliffguard
Iolanda de Albornoz, Yeoman of the White Arrow
Wat of Sarum, Chief Pledge of the Green Tithing
Eirik Andersen, village alderman, member of the Green Tithing
Mahault van der Eych, ale taster, member of the Green Tithing, member of the Cliffguard
Berend van der Eych, ale taster, member of the White Tithing, member of the Cliffguard
Tarian verch Gadarn, ale taster, member of the White Tithing
Sof'ia Bardeva, ale taster, member of the White Tithing
Jean-Margaret Donnerfaust, member of the White Tithing
Siegfried Brandbeorn, village alderman

Their Excellencies of Septentria, playing the lord and lady of the manor, sat at one end of the room with the jurors representing the court. One of the jurors also acted as the clerk, writing down the charges, the results of the case, and the fines. All others in attendance sat about the other three sides, leaving the centre of the room open. Someone wishing to lay a charge would respectfully step before the court and state their accusation. The accused would then step forward as well. Both would be instructed to gather pledges and between one and two minutes were allowed for this. During this time much money changed hands as pledges were bought, silences ensured and officials bribed. (Any bribe to a juror went right into the beadle's money jar.)

Both sides then presented their stories, and all pledges were allowed to speak. Rebuttals were allowed, though the court could stop them at any time. The court then discussed the testimony and settled on a verdict. Generally, if the defendent was found guilty they—and all their pledges—were fined. As well, generally, if the defendent was found innocent, the plaintiff and all their pledges were fined. There were of course cases where both sides were fined, or only certain people on both or either side.

Most of the cases brought forth were entirely facestious (such as Berend's tryst with Tarian) whilst others (like the wandering lamb) were based on fact. Anyone thinking of running such a manorial court themselves may want to consider which charges to allow and disallow before hand so as not to possibly upset someone (some might not find the idea of being charged as a fornicatrix funny, not even in jest).

The charges and their results are below:

Wat of Sarum, Chief Pledge of the Green Tithing, charged Berend van der Eych with reeping some of his grain. As pledges, Wat presented Sof'ia Bardeva, an ale taster, and Mahault, also an ale taster and 'the much abused wife' of Berend. In his defence, Berend called on yet another ale taster, Tarian verch Gadarn. Wat alleged that he arose late one morning, after a night spent at a tavern, to find that Berend had reaped some of his grain. Berend, who said that while he was being charged with stealing grain was obviuosly the victim of Wat stealing his wife, successfully argued that Wat was a drunken sot, and by Tarian's testimony proved this. Berend was found innocent, and Wat was fined one gold piece for bringing a false charge before the court, plus another gold coin for improper management of his field. He was fined a further gold coin for pointing in a threatening manner at one of the jurors.

Iolanda de Albornoz, a Yeoman of the White Arrow, claiming to be the village forester, charged Eirik Andersen, a village alderman, with killing a deer. As pledges she brought Lina Carville and Thomas the beadle. Eirik's pledges were Thorfinna, the village woodward, and Wat of Sarum, Chief Pledge of the Green Tithing. Iolanda claimed that she had found a dead deer in the woods, and believed that Eirik had slain it, as Lina had seen Eirik walking near the area where the deer was found, and Thomas had overheard him speaking of venison. However, Eirik proved his innocence through Thorfinna, who was the real forester for the village (being its woodward). The deer, she said, had died of natural causes, and Eirik, acting as her deputy, was in the area as he was going to fetch a cart to bring it to the lord's manorial officers. Upon his return however, the deer was gone. The matter of the deer's whereabouts was not solved. When Thorfinna was asked why she had not reported this dead deer to the reeve or beadle, the reeve agreed with her that reports were due later that very evening. Iolanda was fined one gold piece for bringing a false charge before the court, and a further gold piece for usurping another's village appointment.

Mahault van der Eych charged her husband, Berend van der Eych, with creating a fornicatrix of the unmarried and pregnant Tarin verch Gadarn. As pledges Mahault presented Wulfgang Donnerfaust, the Chief Pledge of the White Tithing, Jean-Margaret Donnerfaust, Sof'ia Bardeva the ale taster and Wat of Sarum, Chief Pledge of the Green Tithing. Tarian brought Eirik Andersen, village alderman, whilst Berend brought forth Yosho the reeve. This case got very convoluted as many accusations were thrown. In a surprise testimony, Yosho revealed that Tarian's unborn child was his own, not Berend's (and he quickly paid the beadle a marriage tax). Berend was therefore found innocent of creating a fornicatrix of Tarian. However, many women present had apparently been beset by him after having been in his cups, and he paid one gold piece for every one present who so accused him. Also, Eirik Andersen was remanded to the
Royal Court
for later trial for having—by his own admission—given Tarian cod liver oil, which is an abortive.

Thorfinna gra'feldr, the woodward, charged the Donnerfaust family with poaching a lamb, and the van der Eych family for concealing it. As pledges Thorfinna presented Tarian verch Gadarn, ale taster, Wat of Sarum, chief Pledge of the Green Tithing, Eirik Andersen, village alderman, and Thomas the beadle. The defendents presented Sof'ia Bardeva, ale taster, Iolanda de Albornoz, Yeoman of the White Arrow, Lina Carville, and Siegfried Brandbeorn, village alderman. As with the previous case, many extra charges were leveled by pledges against each other, the plaintiff and the accused. In this case everyone was charged with one gold coin. The defendents were charged as three seperate stories of how the lamb came to be in their possession were presented by them as truth. However, the plaintiff was also charged for not having already seized the lamb. (Plus, charging both sides, with so many pledges, brought much extra revenue into the lord's coffer.)

A representative of the
Royal Court, Pierre
, then announced that he had been authorized on behalf of the Crown to prosecute a case of murder. Sof'ia Bardeva, ale taster, charged Wulfgang Donnerfaust, Chief Pledge of the White Tithing, with murder, having killed her husband, Francisco Deceasi. Sof'ia's pledges were Mahault van der Eych, ale taster, and Lina Carville. Wulfgang's pledges were Wat of Sarum, Chief Pledge of the Green Tithing, Thorfinna gra'feldr, woodward, Yosho the reeve and Jean-Margaret Donnerfaust. The court heard how Wulfgang had allegedly slain Francisco by stabbing him in the back with a knife, and later bragging of the dead and of the strength of his arm. His pledges countered that Francisco was indeed still alive, as he had been seen recently, and that Sof'ia herself had been heard plotting his death. The court asked if a death tax had been paid on Francisco and was told that it had been paid. And, as Francisco was not present to prove that he was indeed alive, Wulfgang was found guilty and sentanced to be hung by the neck until dead. The Crown seized his land and goods (all his remaining gold coins) and in its magnamity, donated them back to the lord and lady of the manor. Sof'ia then had to pay an inheritance tax on her land. (This also meant that Wulfgang could not participate as a pledge in the last case of the night, as his village persona was now dead.)

Thomas the beadle charged Eirik Andersen, village alderman, with not doing his share of the reaping. As pledge Thomas presented Yosho the reeve. For his pledge, Eirik presented Thorfinna gra'feldr, woodward. Thomas and Yosho alleged that Eirik had not done his share of the reaping, and that he had attempted to bribe Yosho to keep the matter out of court. Yosho presented the alleged bribe money to the court and gave it into the care of the beadle. Thorfinna and Eirik countered that as a Viking, Eirik lived on a boat in the lord's harbour, and did not own land, and therefore could not reap. Instead, he paid a yearly tax in lieu of that service. The money that the reeve alleged was a bribe was in fact Eirik's tax money. The lord and lady of the manor, worried over apparent corruption in their officers, stepped forward and said that Eirik was innocent, and Thomas and Yosho had to pay a fine of one gold coin for corruption.

Before the court could be closed, Pierre, on behalf of the Crown, after hearing so much perjury that day, ordered everyone to pay further fines to the manor (in effect, any gold coins they still had on their person).

The canton then decided that the court was so much fun that it should be held twice a year. To facilitate this, it was agreed that the canton appointments should be shuffled so that those dynamics will change for next time. Likely Ardchreag will continue with its manorial courts in late October and May (around the times when the hallmote and frankpledge courts would have been held).

All in all the experiment was a great success. Everyone had fun and over one hundred dollars was raised to help defray canton event costs.

Adventures in Ardchreag

Written for Geographica Septentria, as THL Edward Shaggyshanks, for the Baronial Septentrian Geographical Society, 2005.

The sun beats down on my head as I stand atop the cragged edge of the cliff face. Far below me I can see ships traveling from ports in the far Royal Citie of Eoforwic towards Greenhithe-be-the-waeter. A light wind rustles the leaves in the trees behind me and carries the scent of baking bread from a far-off farm.

Beside me, Snori Fenrirsson leans upon his yew bow. His face is lined from years of exposure to the weather and his eyes perpetually squint in the sun. This archer and ranger is my guide throughout the canton of Ardchreag and, living up to local legend, he has gotten us lost.

Known on the Royal Rolls of Ealdormere officially as Ard Creag, this canton-upon-the-cliffs is in land once claimed by Eoforwic. Over ten years ago a group of archers who lived and plied their trade in the area began to petition for recognition as an independent group. In AS 27, this request was granted. This change to maps of the area is perhaps to blame for local residents becoming known for being prone to loosing their way. A motto sewn on the Ardchreag standard reads, “Don’t follow us, we’re lost too!” This tradition of being and getting lost has continued to this day as even that same standard was lost for a time in the wilds of Ramshaven.

And now Snori and I are lost.

We had set out from the Lincoln keep, which currently serves the canton as their town hall. The plan was to travel towards the nearby Royal Zoo, then angle south into what is known by locals to be troll territory. Many people within the kingdom, including His Majesty’s Minister of Forestry, denies the existence of trolls. Locals, however, swear they exist.

“We’ve had a rash of sightings lately,” Lord Eirik Andersen, former seneschal of Ardchreag, told me. “Sometimes they’ll wander into our keeps, or our camps, gobble up our food, and then take off back into the woods.”

The canton’s current knight marshal, Lord Wat of Sarum, has said that multiple hunting parties have been sent out to slay the troublesome brutes but all have returned empty handed.

It’s for a sighting of one of these trolls that Snori and I set out for.

We left Lincoln at about ten of the clock and our progress through the woods was rapid. It was once we angled off the King’s Roads that we became hopelessly turned about.

When I asked Snori if he knew which way we were going, he simply shrugged.

At one point we crested a ridge and saw before us a great meadow stippled with yellow dandelions. Munching on the grass was a herd of the massive green bison local to the area. We approached cautiously but the looming bovines seemed oblivious to our presence. Their fur was long and shaggy and most definitely coloured green. Local lore says its from eating the emerald grass of central Ardchreag, while others say it’s the water from Vahdkha—a watering hole—that makes them green. Humans who drink from the wells of Vahdkha have also been known to turn green, though they usually return to a more normal colouration after a few hours. Snori tells me of Lady Qandachin Bahar, a Mongolian, who felt an affinity for the bison. She was known to have consumed much of the water of Vahdkha in an effort to commune with the animals. The effort left Bahar feeling quite ill, and lately she has given up on Vahdkha all together, preferring to drink fermented milk instead.

*          *          *

Standing far above the rocky shore down below, I pull out my water flask. Out over the inland sea I spot a flock of winged turtles flying over the foaming waves. The rotund winged reptiles were first been discovered on the Ardchreag-Greenhithe border by Lord Ulvar van der Nederlanden. This was at a muster of Ealdormere’s military might in AS 27 or so. Now the turtles’ habitat has spread all over Ardchreag, though they are most populous about the cliffs as they build nests right in the cliff faces.

With green bison and flying turtles, how can anyone doubt the existence of trolls, I wondered.

Singing has always been popular in Ardchreag; they even had a choir for a very short time. Now many of its members are known as bardicly inclined. Snori proves this as he begins to sing, “Soaring, high above the white flowers, that’s where the Ardchreag turtles like flying…”

I sit back and listen as he finishes, punctuating each line by stamping his bow into the ground. When he’s done he looks over at me and smiles. “That was written by one of my kinfolk, Þorfinna gráfeldr, former baronial bard.” I nod as I stand up. The sun is just beginning to dip behind the trees at our back.

We begin to follow the cliff face westwards knowing that eventually we’ll hit the Greenhithe border. From there Snori is sure he can find his way to Drew’s End, Havencroft or Eirikstaadir, all of which are home to members of the canton who technically live in Greenhithe territory.

*          *          *

In AS 25 a group of people met in a bakery owned by Sir Timothy of Horton. It was there where talk of Ardchreag began. The orchestraters of this plan were (and I use their current titles): Baron Siegfried Brandbeorn, the Honourable Lord Raffe Scolemaystre, Lord Raedmund deArden and Lord Alan ate Highcliffs. It is perhaps these four that are represented by the four arrows on Ardchreag’s device, forming a compass.

The other main element of the device is a red mountain, to represent the Scarlet Bluffs that cuts across the canton. The cliffs are represented on the chief. (Laurel leavess are also represented, as they are on all geographic devices of the Society). The main colours are green and white. The green is probably representative of the earth, while the white is the sky.

*          *          *

Like any canton that exists for more than a few years, Ardchreag has had many people call it home. In a poll conducted in June AS 37, it was discovered that over the previous ten years 151 people had been listed on Ardchreag’s rolls. Some of these have gone on to be knights and laurels, while some have even ruled as King and Queen of Ealdormere.

Currently Ardchreag is a hotbed of baronialism. Many members are, or until recently were, members of the baronial army. A number of Septentria’s officers currently call Ardchreag home as well. The barony’s unofficial propaganda ministry is based in Ardchreag, with recruitment posters being the current project. In past years these posters were plastered wherever a surface could be found, including some warriors’ shields.

As well as being loyal to their barony, Chreaggers (as they sometimes call themselves) are also staunch Ealdormereans. Many of them make the journey to Pennsic whenever war threatens and for many years, Ardchreag held Ealdormere War Practice, where those heading south could practice their martial skills. There are many armoured fighters amongst the population, as well as archers and axe throwers, and a few cavalry members and scouts as well. (Of all the martial disciplines only fencing seems to be absent.) Many followers of these martial paths are members of the Cliffguard, a constabulary that patrols the roadways and byways of Ardchreag to protect the populace from danger. Archers and axe throwers make up the Yeoman of the White Arrow, a group that defends the canton with bow and axe. Armoured fighters take part in practices weekly. A number also travel to nearby practices in Petrea Thule, Eoforwic and Skeldergate. Many of Ardchreag’s fighters hold armouring workshops in an attempt to get fighters from within and without their borders into armour quickly.

No to leave their coastline undefended Laird Colyne Stewart has commissioned the construction of Ardchreag’s first naval vessel, called the Red Arrow. A navy is necessary to protect merchant and private vessels from the dread pirates Cap’n Widow and Cap’n Bloodfox.

Artisans are also well represented by steel workers, illuminators, calligraphers, scribes, carvers, bards, researchers, chefs, woodworkers, gamers, pewter casters and so on. At least one guild was born in Ardchreag, namely the Games Guild of Ealdormere, which counts members in at least six kingdoms so far. Chronicling is also popular in Ardchreag, and it has published numerous publications over the past few years (with more apparently in the works).

It is, from all accounts, a very busy place.

*          *          *

Cursing, Snori stumbles over a discarded beer mug.

We’re standing in a copse of trees where a small shrine has been erected to a local saint named Crispinus. Upon a small pile of rocks stands a rudely carved figure of a man in a dress, while scattered around the base of the shrine are empty mugs and goblets. I can smell the doughy scent of beer. Crispinus was a Chreagger renowned for his love of fine ale who, it is said, was carried bodily into the heavens. This happened some time after he had gone to bed dead after consuming copious amounts of liquor and had arisen in the morning alive. (This was, coincidently, the same time when Bayar tried to commune with green bison.) Some time before that Crispinus had passed himself off successfully as a woman—though a homely one from all accounts. Crispinus disappeared—taken to heaven, insist the faithful—just before he could be given the rank of Lord by Their Lupine Majesties. St. Crispinus’ Award of Arms is currently in the hands of Ardchreag’s historian who is hunting high and low for the saint, and many others are in search of his dress. In the meantime locals claim to see his face appearing in mugs of ale, and toasts are raised to his health in pubs throughout the canton.

From this shrine we know we are close to the border and that our ordeal will soon be behind us. It is now getting dark and Snori pulls out a torch, which he sets alight with his flint and steel. Before too much longer we hear an axe and follow the sound to a clearing. There we find two Scottish lads just finishing a day of chopping wood. Though my Gaelic is rusty I manage to tell them we are lost and they tell me that we have just crossed into Greenhithe territory. The smaller man, named Stephen, agrees to take me to the nearby port. We pass the time in relative silence, until finally we reach the docks.

I toss Stephen a coin and he tips me a salute before departing. I likewise hand Snori his pay (even if he did nothing but get us lost) and book passage aboard a ship for home. I didn’t see a troll, but I saw many other wonders and count myself content.