Saxon poem Andreas; Shelley’s Halcyon Morn; and Blackbird Sings 🐦‍⬛

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

Hello, hello, hello, and guess where we are? It's Sunday evening and we're in my garden in Cherbourne and the birds are having a most lovely quiet chitter chatter and I'm gonna immediately let you listen to them. If you hear panting in the background, it's not me, it's the puppy uh playing with a stick. Now that is the blackbird, our blackbird. Well, it's not ours, he belongs to himself. He's up on the chimney pot. Can you hear him? Magpie's just flown over. Pigeon hideous. No swifts around right now. But I've just seen a wren fly over his head. The wrens are so distinctive because they've got such solid little round bodies. And then their little tail at the end. Mr. Cat's come out and is coming to find me. You just follow me around, don't you, darling? We've not had warm sunshine for a while. That's okay. And doggo, are you okay there, doggo? She's sniffing the air and wondering whether to come out or not. She's got her foot all wrapped up from her operation last week. What is it, Mr. Cat? Say hello. I'm giving him a straight thing if he wants to say hello. He doesn't run off now when the when he's near the puppy. I mean the the puppy sometimes is too boisterous for him, but she doesn't hurt him. It's funny how everything does just settle down into whatever you want in terms of your house household. And at the beginning it doesn't feel like it's going to happen that way, but it it does. And I d I do remember that from the past when we've had chickens, for goodness sakes. Chickens. I remember once getting a knock on the door, and it was a local bus driver, and he had a one of our chickens in his arms, and it apparently it was just wandering down the street. Imagine. I mean, that's such a sort of archer's for those who know the radio programme. Such an archer's scene, isn't it? Just and now I've picked up what looks like a kidney beam, but it's a beautiful berry of some sort. And yes, the puppy is now just sort of walking past Mr. Cat and ignore they Well, they don't ignore each other. They there's more than that. There's something else going on, definitely. I can sometimes seek each other out. But I mean they're similar sizes in a way, so where are you off to now, puppy? I think I think she's off to find a place to do a little poop. I feel like I'm forever clearing up after her, but I can't be right. It must be sometimes the cat I'm clearing up after. And how how are you this Sunday evening? And what are you up to? Thank you. I've had lots of emails again, so I've got a few to read out. And thank you also for the messages on social media. And I hope that I hope you are well. I hope none of you. I hope you're not suffering. I hope you're not lonely or sad. And if you are, get in touch, tell me you are, and I can either privately or or hear on the episode. But I'm very happy to privately send you a message of support. I don't have enough emails that I can't I that I can't not do that. And now of course we have a honorary patron of Tom Holland, and that's great. And I also had that spontaneous interview with uh Sir Richard Eyre, that was great. So these lovely little uh boosts give me a boost and help me keep going. But the thing that gives me the real boost is the emails from people saying that they're listening and it's a comfort and that they enjoy the trips into churches and abbeys, and no one has yet said it's too eclectic, stop. And I guess that's because the people who think that do just stop themselves. I see my average puppy going round and round and round. The average rating I've got now is 4.6. It was 4.8 for a while, but of course someone's come in and given either a one or a two. I didn't want to look, so that's brought it down. It's it's frustrating how one person I I I now know what authors feel like when they get, you know, they they get lovely uh responses and nice replies, and then one person or it must be similar to if you've got a restaurant or hotel, you know, one person can really knock the statistics, so it's a real shame. But I I think people are wise to that and they look and they see because certainly if you're if you're listening thinking, oh great, there's a history podcast I can tune into, then you'd think, what on earth is she talking about sparrows for? And if you're tuning in to hear about sparrows, then you'd think, Why on earth is she reading Anglo-Saxon poetry? So yeah, I think no one who's tr who's tuning in to listen to a particular thing is going to be satisfied. I'm trying to reach those of you who want a little bit of everything because that I think that's what life is like, isn't it? And uh that's what the seasons are like, that's what that's what days are like, but they're a mixture of things. So in a minute I'm gonna go in and do a couple of readings for us to catch up, but I wanted to bring you out here because Mr Blackbird was up on his chimney. He's now gone, he's done his evening singing. And Scout's done her evening zoomy zoomies. Mr. Kat's just watching, hiding behind the bird bath, keeping safe, trying to stay near me. You're trying trying to stay safe over here. I'm now walking to the shed and um trying to find something, which I'm wondering if tucked away in here. If you can't find something in the house, you you look everywhere and then finally you think okay it might be in the shed. Hello, Mr Cat. Do you think it's interesting in here? Does it smell interesting? Husband fixed it all up recently, he got it all sealed. Well, I mean what a good job. That is the kind of thing I would never in a million years do want waterproof a shed and fix it all up, but he did it and did a good job. But he as he never listens to this podcast, I don't see there's any point in crazing him here. You might think that he listens to it. In the early days he did when it was about much more about grief and and so on, and he would never admit to it, but I think he well I hope, I suspect he was doing it to make sure I was okay. But he leaves it to me now because he's not he's he's more of a watching a film on the telly or watching football or something like that, rather than be interested in the happenings 1500 years ago in Northumbria. But but but but we are going to Jarrow. It's so funny because my son, he's interested in all things, Saxon and so on, but he's not yet heard of Jarrow and the importance of it. When I said oh we're going on holiday to Jarrow and you can come or you don't have to come if you don't want and he just said in a real kind of you know chap's voice Jarrow as though why on earth would we want to go to Jarrow? Now we've not done saints for a while, so let's celebrate the life of Saint Pancras, whose feast day was the twelfth of May. He died early fourth century a martyr. Now it says beyond the well attested fact of his martyrdom, which led to a notable cult centered on his body in the fine church, on the Via Is it Via or Via Aurelia in Rome, almost nothing is known of him. The legendary acts make him a Phrygian orphan brought up by his uncle to Rome, where both were converted, and Pancras suffered as a martyr at the early age of fourteen. I think the problem with the early converts is that if you're a convert, you're keen to prove your your f your faith, and so it's sad to think of children wanting to prove their faith. What have you got there, puppy? And uh allowing themselves to be martyred. Gregory the Great dedicated a monastery at Rome to Pancras, and Augustine a church in Canterbury. I wonder if Gregory the Great was very loving towards children because of course it was he that spotted the angly children, the boys in the marketplace and then wanted to send a group of people to convert the English. Relics of Pancras were sent to Oswald, King of Northumbria by Pope Vitalian in six hundred sixty four. Partly for this reason Pancras appears in the martyrology of Bede in the Old English Martyrology and in most English calendars, including Sarum. Six ancient churches in England were dedicated to Pancras, including the one in North London, from which the cemetery and the railway station take their name. Feast day twelfth of May, often with Nereus and Achilleus. And now Matthias, first century apostle. The qualifications required for an apostle to take the place of the suicide Judas were to have been a follower of Christ from the baptism to the ascension. Uh uh no puppy always wants to eat my little microphone, don't you? Right, let's try and carry on. It's because it's to her bedtime and so she knows she gets a little bit of cheese before she goes to bed. It's her favourite part of the day, I think. Let me just say that again. The qualifications required for an apostle to take the place of the suicide Judas were to have been a follower of Christ from the baptism to the ascension, and thus a witness of the resurrection like the others. In the event the choice was made between two, Joseph Barcibus and Mat Matthias, the latter being chosen by Lot. I don't know any of this, do you know this? Like the other apostles he received the gift of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, but as with them, authentic details of the places and dates of his apostolate are hard to find. He is said to have preached first in Judea, which is likely enough, but later, according to the Greeks, he worked at Cappadocia and later the Caspian Sea. There is also a tradition which links him to Ethiopia, while the fictitious acts of Andrew and Matthias in the city of the cannibals was very popular from early times, and versions were made in several Eastern languages. But sometimes the stories were related of Matthew and Andrew, as is the case in the Anglo Saxon poem Andreas. Right, we need to read that. I'm going to earmark the page. There was also some confusion in art between Matthew and Matthias, the latter's usual emblem being an axe or halberd, regarded as the instrument of his martyrdom. His supposed relics were translated from Jerusalem to Rome by the Empress Helena, and some of these were moved to Treves or Trev, is it in the eleventh century? Feast day, traditionally the twenty fourth or twenty fifth of February in the west, but since nineteen sixty nine, the fourteenth of May in the Roman Church, and the ninth of August in the East. Right, this is really interesting. This is what I found out about the poem. The Anglo Saxon poem, usually called Andreas or Andrew, is a dramatic Old English religious epic about Saint Andrew rescuing Saint Matthew from a terrifying land of cannibals called the Myrmidonians. It survives in the famous Vercelli book, one of the great surviving manuscripts of Old English poetry, and was probably written in the ninth or tenth century. The poet is unknown, although scholars once connected it with Keen or Cheenwolf. What makes Andreas remarkable is that it treats a Christian saint almost like a hero from Beowulf. Andrew is presented not as a meek figure, but as a courageous warrior of God. The language is full of battle imagery, seafaring hardship, loyalty, courage and endurance. The story goes roughly like this. You ready? Right, Matthew has gone to preach in Myrmidonia where the inhabitants eat human flesh. He is captured, blinded and imprisoned, awaiting death. God commands Andrew to rescue him. Andrew travels by sea on a mysterious ship whose helmsman is actually Christ in disguise, accompanied by angels. Andrew does not realise whom he is speaking to, and the voyage becomes a theological conversation about faith and suffering. Arriving in Myrmidonia, Andrew frees Matthew through divine aid. Andrew himself is then tortured for several days. Eventually the Myrmidonians repent, convert to Christianity, and a church is established. The poem opens in magnificent heroic style What we have learned in former days of glory blessed heroes. That beginning deliberately echoes secular heroic poetry, making the apostles sound like a war band of noble retainers serving their heavenly Lord. That would be a much more interesting way of presenting them, wouldn't it? I mean I don't really mean that, but it's it's a thought. Imagine if the whole of i if there were a fifth testament presented like Jesus was a warband hero or leader and the apostles were his followers and his retinue, and wouldn't that be fun? It would be an interesting imagine if it were put together as a play. Do you think that would be the sort of thing that would be watched in on the London stage? That a few important themes Christian heroism, loyalty and discipleship, sea voyages and exile, suffering as imitation of Christ, conversion and redemption, fusion of Germanic warrior culture with Christianity. In tone it is far sterner and more martial than later medieval saints' stories. It feels cold, windswept and northern, spiritually closer to Beowulf or the Wanderer than to later romantic legend. That's fascinating, isn't it? Do you think we should read it? So there is a translation of this that I'm an I've been researching it. I it's now five past eleven. This is how this is how I like to live my life, going down tangents and finding new things out. So I've been researching it and it would take two hours to read it all out. But what I thought I would do is read it out there for in sections. So why not? So I will read probably just for about five minutes and and then bookmark it and keep going. And this is by Robert Kilburn Root, who is an interesting person in his own right. But this is he he did it long, a long time ago, and this has been published by the Gutenberg Project, which, as you probably know, is a fantastic online source that anyone can use, and it's information. Sorry, it's I'm I'm getting tired. It's it means you can access books and things and translations such as this and publish and read out without fear of copyright. So it's it's a way of it's a way of making things available to people rather than keep locking them all up in copyright. And if you don't know about it, it's worth looking into. But let me just cut straight to the chaff, is that right? The legend of St. Andrew. We'll just start. Lo, we have learned of twelve in days gone by who dwelt beneath the stars in glory rich thanes of the Lord. So that's brilliant. So thanes of the Lord. So these are apostles of the Lord. Well you know, they're not the apostles, but they are apostles. Thanes of the Lord whose courage for the fight never failed even when the helmets crashed in war, from that time when they portioned each his place, as God himself declared to them by lot, high king of heaven above, renowned men were they through all the earth and leaders bold, brave in the battle, warriors of might, when shield and hand the helmet did protect ten upon the field of fate. And now a little pause while I try and find my place online. I just had to sort out the puppy because she picked up some painkillers and went running off with them. Of that brave band was Matthew one, and this isn't remember Saint Matthew as we'd normally know him, this is Saint Matthias, who first among the Jews began to write the gospel down in words with wondrous power. To him did holy God assign his lot upon that distant isle, where never yet could any outland man enjoy a happy life or find a home. Him did the murderous hands of bloody men upon the field of battle oft oppress, right grievous grievously, that country all about, the folks stead of the men, was compassed with slaughter and with foamen's treachery. victory twenty that home of heroes, dwellers in that land, had neither bread nor water to enjoy, but on the flesh and blood of stranger men come from afar, that people made their feast. This was their custom. Every foreigner who visited that island from without they seized as food. These famine stricken men, this was the cruel practice of that folk, mighty in wickedness, most savage foes, with javelin points they poured upon the ground, the jewel of the head, the eyes clear sight, and after brood for them a bitter draught, these wizards by their magic, drink accursed, which led astray the wits of hapless men, the heart within their breasts, until they grieved no longer for the happiness of men. Weary for food they fed on hay and grass. When to this far famed city Matthew came, there rose great outcry through the sinful tribe, that cursed cursed throng of Myrmidonians. I think we'll leave it at that exciting, huh? And now we resume the Anglo Saxon Chronicles AD nine three eight Here Athelstan, King of Earls the Lord, rewarder of heroes, and his brother, Edmund Atheling, elder of ancient race, slew in the fight with the edge of their swords, the foe at Brumby, the sons of Edward their board walls clove, and hewed their banners with the wrecks of their hammers. So were they taught by kindred zeal that they at camp oft gainst any robber their land should defend, their hordes and homes, pursuing fell the Scottish clans, the men of the fleet in numbers fell midst the din of the field, the warrior sweet sweet such a great word Since the sun was up in morning tide, gigantic light glad over sounds, God's candle bright, eternal lord, till the noble creature sat in the westward main, there lay many of the northern heroes, under a shower of arrows, shot over shields, and Scotland's boast a Scythian race, the mighty seed of Mars. With chosen troops throughout the day, the West Saxons fierce pressed on the loathed bands, hewed down the fugitives, and scattered the rear with strong mill sharpened blades. The Mercians to the hard hand place spared not to any of those that with Anlath over the briny deep in the ship's bosom sought this land for the hardy fight. Five kings lay on the field of battle in bloom of youth pierced with swords, so seven of the lords of the Earls of Anlath, and of the ship's crew unnumbered crowds, there was dispersed the little band of hardy Scots, the dread of northern hordes, urged to the noisy deep by unrelenting fate. The king of the fleet with his slender craft, escaped with his life on the felon flood, and so too Constantine, the valiant chief, returned to the north in hasty flight. The hoary Hildrink cared not to boast among his kindred here was his remnant of relations and friends slain with the sword in the crowded fight. His son too he left on the field of battle, mangled with wounds young at the fight The fair haired youth had no reason to boast of the slaughtering strife, nor old inward and anlaugh, the more with the wrecks of their army, could laugh and say that they on the field of stern command better workmen were, in the conflict of banners, the clash of spears, the meeting of heroes and the rustling of weapons, which they on the field of slaughter played with the sons of Edward The Northmen sailed in their nailed ships, a dreary remnant on the roaring sea, over deep water dove Dublin they sought, and Ireland's shores in great disgrace Such then the brothers, both together King and Aetherling, sought their country West Saxon land, in right triumphant They left behind them roar to devour, the sallow kite, the swarthy raven with horny nib, and the horse vulture with the eagle swift to consume his prey, the greedy goshawk and that grey beast the wolf of the weeld No slaughter yet was made over this island, of people slain before this time with the edge of the sword, as the books inform us of old historians, since hither came from the eastern shores the Angles and Saxons, over the broad sea and Britain sought, fierce battlesmiths overcame the Welsh, most valiant earls, and gained the land AD nine for one This year King Athelstan died in Gloucester on the sixth day before the Calends of November, about forty one winters, baiting one night from the time when King Alfred died, and Edmund Atheling took to the kingdom. He was then eighteen years old. King Athelstan reigned forty years and fourteen years and ten weeks. This year the Northumbrians abandoned their allegiance and chose Anlath of Ireland for the king, because of course as soon as a leader died anyone who'd pledged their allegiance to them was free from their pledge. And that's why kings often asked leaders from other areas to pledge allegiance to their sons and that's something that really continued ever since in the form eventually of the sons becoming the Prince of Wales and leaders from all over different areas like Scotland or whatever to to take part in the ceremony. The king is dead long live the king don't think you can get away with at the point of which the king is dead suddenly not then pledging allegiance to the new king who immediately became king and doesn't become king at the point of coronation becomes king immediately on the death of their father or the king before anyway, Gretel Waffling and Edmund Athling took to the kingdom yes, so this year the Northumbrians abandoned their allegiance and chose Anlaf of Ireland for their king AD nine for one and then a different a different chronicle said the same thing and this year a good long space after he received King Reginald at the Bishop's hands AD nine for two will end on this here King Edmund, King of Angles Lord, protector of friends, author and framer of direful deeds, overran with speed the Mercian land, whatever the course of Whitwell Spring or Humber Deep, the broad brim stream divides five towns Leicester and Lincoln, Nottingham and Stanford and Derby, in thralldom long to Norman Danes they bowed through need, and dragged the chains of heathen men, till till his glory great Edward's heir Edmund the King, refuge of warriors their fetters broke some magnificent entry, isn't it? I am going to just do the next one, I'm sorry eighty nine forty three This year Anlaf stormed Tanworth, and much slaughter was made on either hand, but the Danes had their victory and led away with them much plunder. There was Wolfran taken in the spoiling of the town. This year King Edmund beset King Anlaf and Archbishop Wolfstan in Leicester, and he might have conquered them were it not that they burst out of the town in the night. After this Anlaf obtained the friendship of King Edmund and King Edmund then received King Anlaf in baptism that was the common not thread, but that was the common thing to take place, wasn't it? It was almost like a version of allegiance being paid from by one king to another but instead of instead of that, instead of lowering himself to pay allegiance he was prepared to have himself baptized and and the senior king to become the godfather thereby and he made him royal presence and the same year after some interval he received King Reynold at Episcopal hands. This year also died King Anlath and we continue next with eighty nine for when King Edmund reduced the lands of the Northumbrians now recently in a book I bought and I mentioned you in the contents it lists all of the abbeys in the whole of the country and also in Scotland and Wales and I think I started to read the list out and this can't be in copyright because it's just listing abbeys so yeah it's not it's not original writing is it? Now I can't remember whether I started doing this but let's do it now and it's an opportunity to get a cup of tea and relax and shut your eyes The Kingdom of Northumbria Kirkstall Beverly Minster Byland Lindersfarne Priory Hexham Bolton Brinkburn Priory Blancheland Furnace Whitby Rivo Lanacoste Priory Monk Breton Priory Mount Grace Priory Fountains Roche Gervaux Selby The Kingdom of Mercia Hormond Tupholm Abbey Dore Wenlock Priory Jewesbury Pershaw Hales Dorchester East Anglia Wolfham Binham Priory St. Bennet's Castleacre Priory Walsingham Priory Wimondham Abbey or Wymandham the Kingdoms of South Wessex and Kent Westminster Abbey the Collegiate Chapel of St. George at Windsor Aylesford Priory Micklam Priory Battle Saint Augustine's The Kingdoms of Wessex and Kerno Romsey Malmsbury Bath Sherbourne Milton Christchurch Priory Cleave Winbourne Minster Bewelly Glastonbury Buckfast St Germans Priory Scotland Jedburgh Kelso Coldingham Priory Dryberg Melrose Dundrenham Dunfermlin Bruce Garden Holy Road Iona Sweetheart Wales Tinton Cordy Island Clanthony Abbey Margum Valcrucis or Crucis Crucis maybe Neath and that's it all of the abbeys in the whole of the British Isles, I think Well not not Ireland or Northern Ireland. We'll have to list those separately Now it's very late now and I need to go to sleep so I'm just going to finish with a very short piece of poetry by Shelley about a bucolic scene The brightest hour of unborn spring through the winter wandering found it seems the Halcyon morn to whore February born bending from heaven in azure mirth it kissed the forehead of the earth and smiled upon the silent sea and bade the frozen streams be free. I wish you a very good and restful Sunday night and I look forward to catching up with you in the next few days. Thank you so much for joining me. It's an honour for me that you keep me company. Good night