William of Newburgh and his medieval horrors

William of Newburgh

Because of my thorough enjoyment of his work, as well as because I have found him to be quite an inspiration, here is a brief biography of the 12^th century historian, William of Newburgh. I plan to upload some of the most fantastical –and possibly true – extracts of his most famous work as time goes by. But in the meantime, I hope you enjoy the following.

William of Newburgh was a 12^th century historian who covered the history of England between the Norman Conquest and his death in roughly 1198. Both his birth date and death date are unclear, but he is thought to have been born in 1136. Also known as William Parvus, Guilelmus Neibrigensis, Wilhelmus Neubrigensis and Willelmus de Novoburgo, he was also an Augustinian Canon from Bridlington, Yorkshire.

He is most famous for his work as a historian and his magnum opus was the History of English Affairs, or the Historia rerum Anglicarum, which covered the period of 1066 and 1198.

History of English Affairs

This book is a major source for its details about The Anarchy under King Stephen of England and also covers how King Richard the Lionheart’s absence from his throne affected Britain. It holds accounts that many have found fascinating – including myself – about life in the 12^th century. The History of English Affairs is a prime source for stories of medieval Revenants – Western European vampires – as well as being the only source of information about Wimund, the only pirate bishop who held the Diocese of the Isle of Man. I am amazed at its ease of reading and engaging fashion.

Edward Augustus Freeman, the 19^th century historian championed William of Newburgh as ‘the father of historical criticism’, though this is now an out dated opinion. Though, I personally have found that William of Newburgh’s articles compare with much of the research that I have done. I find his neutrality refreshing for an academic of his period.

I will admit to being proved wrong. William of Newburgh is very critical of King John – who ruled in Richard the Lionheart’s place during the early Crusades – who he describes as ‘nature’s enemy’.

On a side note, I found it curious that in the History of English Affair’s coverage of the reign of King John there is no mention of a certain Robin Hood. Nor have I found there to be any episodes of interest or references to anyone or anything that could be construed as this National Hero or his activities.

Robin Hood

Newburgh is thought to have based his work on reliable sources. In fact, William of Newburgh rails against those that don’t follow this principal. He reasons that if a history text isn’t, then how can it be classed as a history. Specifically he snipes at Geoffrey of Monmouth – who popularised the exploits of King Arthur, his Knights of the Round Table and Merlin. Newburgh says about Monmouth’s Historia Regum Britanniae: “only a person ignorant of ancient history would have any doubt about how shamelessly and impudently he lies in almost everything.” On of William’s primary chagrins is that Geoffrey of Monmouth’s history conflicts with the accounts of the Venerable Bede’s in almost every way.

Much like a Northern Walter Mapp – of whom he was a contemporary – Newburgh’s history is peppered with stories he has heard about Revenants. Stories about the dead returning were popular during this period as the belief that souls could return from their grave was surprisingly common at during this period. Although they are a small part of his work, they are popular with those interested in the occult and with folklore.

A revenant: part zombie, part vampire

There are other stories recorded in William’s history about acts of God and the supernatural, such as when two suns were seen over Northern France. Though he expresses a conviction that these events have significance, he doesn’t go into them with any detail. He regularly says that it is not his place to question or critique these too deeply. Though he expresses a genuine astonishment and amazement at these episodes, I think that this shows his wish to stay with the facts in the face of the fantastical.

In later days, he composed an exposition on the Biblical book, the Song of Songs and three sermons on both liturgical texts and also Saint Albans. For those of a Christian persuasion, these are well worth searching for.

I will be occasionally posting extracts from William of Newburgh’s History of English Affairs. I hope that these ‘true episodes of historical horror’ meet curious eyes.

The full version of the History of English Affairs can be found at http://legacy.fordham.edu/halsall/basis/williamofnewburgh-intro.

Of certain prodigies

 Here's a moderately long extract from the History of English Affairs by William of Newburgh. This is tale from the late 12th century that, though longer, I found such fun. This story is from the Monastery of Melrose in Northumbrian and concerns the death and un-death of a chaplain nicknamed the Hundeprest or Hound Priest. Watch out for the, "corpse, swollen to an enormous corpulence," that spurts a, "stream of blood that... might have been taken for a leech filled with the blood of many persons."

Melrose Abbey, the province of the Hound Priest

skeletons

It would not be easy to believe that the corpses of the dead should sally (I know not by what agency) from their graves, and should wander about to the terror or destruction of the living, and again return to the tomb, which of its own accord spontaneously opened to receive them, did not frequent examples, occurring in our own times, suffice to establish this fact, to the truth of which there is abundant testimony. It would be strange if such things should have happened formerly, since we can find no evidence of them in the works of ancient authors, whose vast labour it was to commit to writing every occurrence worthy of memory; for if they never neglected to register even events of moderate interest, how could they have suppressed a fact at once so amazing and horrible, supposing it to have happened in their day? Moreover, were I to write down all the instances of this kind which I have ascertained to have befallen in our times, the undertaking would be beyond measure laborious and troublesome; so I will fain add two more only (and these of recent occurrence) to those I have already narrated, and insert them in our history, as occasion offers, as a warning to posterity.

A few years ago the chaplain of a certain illustrious lady, casting off mortality, was consigned to the tomb in that noble monastery which is called Melrose. This man, having little respect for the sacred order to which he belonged, was excessively secular in his pursuits, and -- what especially blackens his reputation as a minister of the holy sacrament -- so addicted to the vanity of the chase as to be designated by many by the infamous title of "Hundeprest," or the dog-priest; and this occupation, during his lifetime, was either laughed at by men, or considered in a worldly view; but after his death -- as the event showed -- the guiltiness of it was brought to light: for, issuing from the grave at night-time, he was prevented by the meritorious resistance of its holy inmates from injuring or terrifying any one with in the monastery itself; whereupon he wandered beyond the walls, and hovered chiefly, with loud groans and horrible murmurs, round the bedchamber of his former mistress. She, after this had frequently occurred, becoming exceedingly terrified, revealed her fears or danger to one of the friars who visited her about the business of the monastery; demanding with tears that prayers more earnest than usual should be poured out to the Lord in her behalf as for one in agony. With whose anxiety the friar -- for she appeared deserving of the best endeavours, on the part of the holy convent of that place, by her frequent donations to it -- piously and justly sympathized, and promised a speedy remedy through the mercy of the Most High Provider for all.

Thereupon, returning to the monastery, he obtained the companionship of another friar, of equally determined spirit, and two powerful young men, with whom he intended with constant vigilance to keep guard over the cemetery where that miserable priest lay buried. These four, therefore, furnished with arms and animated with courage, passed the night in that place, safe in the assistance which each afforded to the other. Midnight had now passed by, and no monster appeared; upon which it came to pass that three of the party, leaving him only who had sought their company on the spot, departed into the nearest house, for the purpose, as they averred, of warming themselves, for the night was cold. As soon as this man was left alone in this place, the devil, imagining that he had found the right moment for breaking his courage, incontinently roused up his own chosen vessel, who appeared to have reposed longer than usual. Having beheld this from afar, he grew stiff with terror by reason of his being alone; but soon recovering his courage, and no place of refuge being at hand, he valiantly withstood the onset of the fiend, who came rushing upon him with a terrible noise, and he struck the axe which he wielded in his hand deep into his body. On receiving this wound, the monster groaned aloud, and turning his back, fled with a rapidity not at all interior to that with which he had advanced, while the admirable man urged his flying foe from behind, and compelled him to seek his own tomb again; which opening of its own accord, and receiving its guest from the advance of the pursuer, immediately appeared to close again with the same facility. In the meantime, they who, impatient of the coldness of the night, had retreated to the fire ran up, though somewhat too late, and, having heard what had happened, rendered needful assistance in digging up and removing from the midst of the tomb the accursed corpse at the earliest dawn. When they had divested it of the clay cast forth with it, they found the huge wound it had received, and a great quantity of gore which had flowed from it in the sepulchre; and so having carried it away beyond the walls of the monastery and burnt it, they scattered the ashes to the winds. These things I have explained in a simple narration, as I myself heard them recounted by religious men.

Another event, also, not unlike this, but more pernicious in its effects, happened at the castle which is called Anantis, as I have heard from an aged monk who lived in honour and authority in those parts, and who related this event as having occurred in his own presence. A certain man of evil conduct flying, through fear of his enemies or the law, out of the province of York, to the lord of the before-named castle, took up his abode there, and having cast upon a service befitting his humour, laboured hard to increase rather than correct his own evil propensities. He married a wife, to his own ruin indeed, as it afterwards appeared; for, hearing certain rumours respecting her, he was vexed with the spirit of Jealousy. Anxious to ascertain the truth of these reports, he pretended to be going on a journey from which he would not return for some days; but coming back in the evening, he was privily introduced into his bedroom by a maid-servant, who was in the secret, and lay hidden on a beam overhanging, his wife's chamber, that he might prove with his own eyes if anything were done to the dishonour of his marriage-bed. Thereupon beholding his wife in the act of fornication with a young man of the neighbourhood, and in his indignation forgetful of his purpose, he fell, and was dashed heavily to the ground, near where they were lying.

The adulterer himself leaped up and escaped; but the wife, cunningly dissembling the fact, busied herself in gently raising her fallen husband from the earth. As soon as he had partially recovered, he upbraided her with her adultery, and threatened punishment; but she answering, "Explain yourself, my lord," said she; "you are speaking unbecomingly which must be imputed not to you, but to the sickness with which you are troubled." Being much shaken by the fall, and his whole body stupefied, he was attacked with a disease, insomuch that the man whom I have mentioned as having related these facts to me visiting him in the pious discharge of his duties, admonished him to make confession of his sins, and receive the Christian Eucharist in proper form: but as he was occupied in thinking about what had happened to him, and what his wife had said, put off the wholesome advice until the morrow -- that morrow which in this world he was fated never to behold! -- for the next night, destitute of Christian grace, and a prey to his well-earned misfortunes, he shared the deep slumber of death. A Christian burial, indeed, he received, though unworthy of it; but it did not much benefit him: for issuing, by the handiwork of Satan, from his grave at night-time, and pursued by a pack of dogs with horrible barkings, he wandered through the courts and around the houses while all men made fast their doors, and did not dare to go abroad on any errand whatever from the beginning of the night until the sunrise, for fear of meeting and being beaten black and blue by this vagrant monster. But those precautions were of no avail; for the atmosphere, poisoned by the vagaries of this foul carcass, filled every house with disease and death by its pestiferous breath.

Already did the town, which but a short time ago was populous, appear almost deserted; while those of its inhabitants who had escaped destruction migrated to other parts of the country, lest they too should die. The man from whose mouth I heard these things, sorrowing over this desolation of his parish, applied himself to summon a meeting of wise and religious men on that sacred day which is called Palm Sunday, in order that they might impart healthful counsel in so great a dilemma, and refresh the spirits of the miserable remnant of the people with consolation, however imperfect. Having delivered a discourse to the inhabitants, after the solemn ceremonies of the holy day had been properly performed; he invited his clerical guests, together with the other persons of honour who were present, to his table. While they were thus banqueting, two young men (brothers), who had lost their father by this plague, mutually encouraging one another, said, "This monster has already destroyed our father, and will speedily destroy us also, unless we take steps to prevent it. Let us, therefore, do some bold action which will at once ensure our own safety and revenge our father's death. There is no one to hinder us; for in the priest's house a feast is in progress, and the whole town is as silent as if deserted. Let us dig up this baneful pest, and burn it with fire."

Thereupon snatching up a spade of but indifferent sharpness of edge, and hastening to the cemetery, they began to dig; and whilst they were thinking that they would have to dig to a greater depth, they suddenly, before much of the earth had been removed, laid bare the corpse, swollen to an enormous corpulence, with its countenance beyond measure turgid and suffused with blood; while the napkin in which it had been wrapped appeared nearly torn to pieces. The young men, however, spurred on by wrath, feared not, and inflicted a wound upon the senseless carcass, out of which incontinently flowed such a stream of blood that it might have been taken for a leech filled with the blood of many persons. Then, dragging it beyond the village, they speedily constructed a funeral pile; and upon one of them saying that the pestilential body would not burn unless its heart were torn out, the other laid open its side by repeated blows of the blunted spade, and, thrusting in his hand, dragged out the accursed heart. This being torn piecemeal, and the body now consigned to the flames, it was announced to the guests what was going on, who, running thither, enabled themselves to testify henceforth to the circumstances. When that infernal hell-hound had thus been destroyed, the pestilence which was rife among the people ceased, as if the air, which had been corrupted by the contagious motions of the dreadful corpse, were already purified by the fire which had consumed it. These facts having been thus expounded let us return to the regular thread of history.

Of the prodigy of the dead man, who wandered about after burial

Hostory of English Affairs

Draugr

                This is the first of the segments from the History of English Affairs by William of Newburgh. This history, written over the period of a couple of decades, always surprises me. If you can get a copy of the original text and read the introduction, William tries to stand by the facts as they’re presented to him with very little speculation. His neutrality is more comparable with academic texts of a much more modern age than the 12^th century that this was written in; yet, it does have the feel of a Hammer Horror film

I hope that you enjoy it.

In these days a wonderful event befell in the county of Buckingham, which I, in the first instance, partially heard from certain friends, and was afterwards more fully informed of by Stephen, the venerable archdeacon of that province. A certain man died, and, according to custom, by the honourable exertion of his wife arid kindred, was laid in the tomb on the eve of the Lord's Ascension. On the following night, however, having entered the bed where his wife was reposing, he not only terrified her on awaking, but nearly crushed her by the insupportable weight of his body. The next night, also, he afflicted the astonished woman in the same manner, who, frightened at the danger, as the struggle of the third night drew near, took care to remain awake herself, and surround herself with watchful companions. Still he came; but being repulsed by the shouts of the watchers, and seeing that he was prevented from doing mischief, he departed. Thus driven off from his wife, he harassed in a similar manner his own brothers, who were dwelling in the same street; but they, following the cautious example of the woman, passed the nights in wakefulness with their companions, ready to meet and repel the expected danger. He appeared, notwithstanding, as if with the hope of surprising them should they be overcome with drowsiness; but being repelled by the carefulness and valour of the watchers, he rioted among the animals, both indoors and outdoors, as their wildness and unwonted movements testified.

Having thus become a like serious nuisance to his friends and neighbours, he imposed upon all the same necessity for nocturnal watchfulness; and in that very street a general watch was kept in every house, each being fearful of his approach unawares. After having for some time rioted in this manner during the night-time alone, he began to wander abroad in daylight, formidable indeed to all, but visible only to a few; for oftentimes, on his encountering a number of persons, he would appear to one or two only though at the same time his presence was not concealed from the rest. At length the inhabitants, alarmed beyond measure, thought it advisable to seek counsel of the church; and they detailed the whole affair, with tearful lamentation, to the above-mentioned archdeacon, at a meeting of the clergy over which he was solemnly presiding. Whereupon he immediately intimated in writing the whole circumstances of the case to the venerable bishop of Lincoln, who was then resident in London, whose opinion and judgment on so unwonted a matter he was very properly of opinion should be waited for: but the bishop, being amazed at his account, held a searching investigation with his companions; and there were some who said that such things had often befallen in England, and cited frequent examples to show that tranquillity could not be restored to the people until the body of this most wretched man were dug up and burnt. This proceeding, however, appeared indecent and improper in the last degree to the reverend bishop, who shortly after addressed a letter of absolution, written with his own hand, to the archdeacon, in order that it might be demonstrated by inspection in what state the body of that man really was; and he commanded his tomb to be opened, and the letter having been laid upon his breast, to be again closed: so the sepulchre having been opened, the corpse was found as it had been placed there, and the charter of absolution having been deposited upon its breast, and the tomb once more closed, he was thenceforth never more seen to wander, nor permitted to inflict annoyance or terror upon any one.

Of a similar occurrence at Berwick

 

Berwick upon Tweed and the Tweed river






Berwick upon Tweed and Tweed estuary

                Here’s another episode from William of Newburgh’s History of English Affairs. Though a historic document, I imagine it could have made a good pulp horror short story from the Twenties. Cue Frank Belnap Long, Clark Ashton Smith or Fritz Leiber Jnr.

 

Zombie



In the northern parts of England, also, we know that another event, not unlike this and equally wonderful, happened about the same time. At the mouth of the river Tweed, and in the jurisdiction of the king of Scotland, there stands a noble city which is called Berwick. In this town a certain man, very wealthy, but as it afterwards appeared a great rogue, having been buried, after his death sallied forth (by the contrivance, as it is believed, of Satan) out of his grave by night, and was borne hither and thither, pursued by a pack of dogs with loud barkings; thus striking great terror into the neighbours, and returning to his tomb before daylight. After this had continued for several days, and no one dared to be found out of doors after dusk -- for each dreaded an encounter with this deadly monster -- the higher and middle classes of the people held a necessary investigation into what was requisite to be done; the more simple among them fearing, in the event of negligence, to be soundly beaten by this prodigy of the grave; but the wiser shrewdly concluding that were a remedy further delayed, the atmosphere, infected and corrupted by the constant whirlings through it of the pestiferous corpse, would engender disease and death to a great extent; the necessity of providing against which was shown by frequent examples in similar cases. They, therefore, procured ten young men renowned for boldness, who were to dig up the horrible carcass, and, having cut it limb from limb, reduce it into food and fuel for the flames. When this was done, the commotion ceased. Moreover, it is stated that the monster, while it was being borne about (as it is said) by Satan, had told certain persons whom it had by chance encountered, that as long as it remained unburned the people should have no peace. Being burnt, tranquillity appeared to be restored to them; but a pestilence, which arose in consequence, carried off the greater portion of them: for never did it so furiously rage elsewhere, though it was at that time general throughout all the borders of England, as shall be more fully explained in its proper place.




Being burnt, tranquillity restored!



Of bishop Wimund, his life unbecoming a bishop, and how he was deprived of his sight

                Below is the only source of possibly the only time a bishop has turned to piracy. The child in me came back when I read this. I remembered playing at pirates when I was but a boy. A pirate bishop is beyond anything I would have thought of as a child. I’m hoping that, if they ever make another Pirates of the Caribbean film that Wimund gets a major part in it.

Bishop Wimund after incarceration

bishop

Pirate Attack!

This person was born in England, of the meanest origin and after acquiring the first elements of literature, not having wherewith to support himself at school, he undertook, as he had some knowledge of the art of writing, for a maintenance the office of scribe to certain monks. After this, he received the tonsure at Furness, and professed the monastic life; when he had obtained access to a sufficient number of books, with adequate leisure, and assisted with three admirable requisites -- an ardent temper, a retentive memory, and competent eloquence -- he advanced so rapidly that the highest expectations were formed of him. After a time, being dispatched with his brethren to the Isle of Man, he so pleased the barbarous natives with the sweetness of his address, and openness of his countenance, being also of a tall and athletic make, that they requested him to become their bishop, and obtained their desire.

He now became inflated with success, and began to conceive great designs. Not content with the dignity of his episcopal office, he next anticipated in his mind how he might accomplish great and wonderful things; for he possessed a haughty speaking mouth with the proudest heart. At last, having collected a band of needy and desperate men, and not fearing the judgment of truth, he feigned himself to be the son of the earl of Moray and that he was deprived of the inheritance of his fathers by the king of Scotland. He affirmed that it was his intention not merely to assert his rights, but to avenge his wrongs, that he wished them to be partakers both of his dangers and of his fortunes; and though the matter might be attended with some labour and peril, still much glory and great advantage were attached to it. All the people being incited, and having taken an oath to him, he began his mad career throughout the adjacent islands; and became, like Nimrod, a mighty hunter before the Lord, forgetting that his episcopal office required of him to be, with Peter, a fisher of men. Every day he was joined by troops of adherents, among whom he was conspicuous above all by the head and shoulders; and, like some mighty commander, he inflamed their desires. He then made a descent on the provinces of Scotland, wasting all before him with rapine and slaughter; but whenever the royal army was dispatched against him, he eluded the whole warlike preparation, either by retreating to distant forests, or taking to the sea; and when the troops had retired, he again issued from his hiding-places to ravage the provinces.

But, while he was thus successful in everything, and had become an object of terror even to the king, a certain bishop -- a man of singular simplicity -- repressed his audacity for a time. When this bishop was threatened with extermination by war, if he did not pay him tribute, he replied, "God's will be done; but from my example no one bishop shall ever become tributary to another." Whereupon spiriting up his people, superior only in faith, for in other respects he was greatly inferior, he met him as he was furiously advancing, and himself striking the first blow in the battle, by way of animating his party, he threw a small hatchet, and, by God's assistance, he felled his enemy to the earth, as he was marching in the van. Gladdened at this event, the people rushed desperately against the marauders, and killing vast numbers of them, compelled their ferocious leader shamefully to fly.

Wimund himself used afterwards, with much pleasantry, boastingly to relate among his friends, that God alone was able to vanquish him by the faith of a simple bishop. This circumstance I learnt from a person who had been one of his soldiers, and had fled with those who had made their escape. Recovering his forces, however, he ravaged the islands and provinces of Scotland, as he had done before. The king was, therefore, compelled to soothe the plunderer, adopting the wise counsel of acting by stratagem against a proud and crafty foe; for this was a case in which strength was of no avail. Therefore, yielding a certain province to him, together with the monastery of Furness, he suspended his incursions for a while; but whilst he was proudly proceeding through his subject province, surrounded by his army, like a king, and severe to a degree against the very monastery where he had been a monk, some of the people, who were unable to endure either his power or his insolence, with the consent of the nobles, laid a snare for him. Obtaining a favourable opportunity, when he was following slowly, and almost unattended, a large party which he bad sent forward to procure entertainment, they took and bound him, and as both eyes were wicked, deprived him of both; and, providing against all future excess, they made him an eunuch for the sake of the kingdom of Scotland, not for that of Heaven. Afterwards he came to us at Byland, and quietly continued there many years till his death. But he is reported even there to have said, that had he only the eye of a sparrow his enemies should have little occasion to rejoice at what they had done to him.

The Green Children of Woolpit, Suffolk

                Again, this is segment from the History of English Affairs by William Newburgh. It tells of two children who turn up in an East Anglian village with green skin and who can’t speak a word of English. I have read an account of this occurrence in the venerable Fortean Times and I’ve been given the idea that this has gone down into local folklore and the facts of which have been modified into a local fairy tale.

                Enjoy!





Woolpit, Suffolk





Green Children of Woolpit, Suffolk





Woolpit, Suffolk





Woolpit,,Suffolk

Nor does it seem right to pass over an unheard-of prodigy, which, as is well known, took place in England during the reign of King Stephen. Though it is asserted by many, yet I have long been in doubt concerning the matter, and deemed it ridiculous to give credit to a circumstance supported on no rational foundation, or at least one of a very mysterious character; yet, at length I was so overwhelmed by the weight of so many and such competent witnesses, that I have been compelled to believe, and wonder over a matter, which I was unable to comprehend, or unravel, by any powers of intellect.

In East Anglia there is a village, distant, as it is said, four or five miles from the noble monastery of the blessed king and martyr, Edmund; near this place are seen some very ancient cavities, called "Wolfpittes," that is, in English, "Pits for wolves," and which give their name to the adjacent village. During harvest, while the reapers were employed in gathering in the produce of the fields, two children, a boy and a girl, completely green in their persons, and clad in garments of a strange colour, and unknown materials, emerged from these excavations. While wandering through the fields in astonishment, they were seized by the reapers, and conducted to the village, and many persons coming to see so novel a sight, they were kept some days without food. But, when they were nearly exhausted with hunger, and yet could relish no species of support which was offered to them, it happened, that some beans were brought in from the field, which they immediately seized with avidity, and examined the stalk for the pulse, but not finding it in the hollow of the stalk, they wept bitterly. Upon this, one of the bystanders, taking the beans from the pods, offered them to the children, who seized them directly, and ate them with pleasure. By this food they were supported for many months, until they learnt the use of bread.

At length, by degrees, they changed their original colour, through the natural effect of our food, and became like ourselves, and also learnt our language. It seemed fitting to certain, discreet persons that they should receive the sacrament of baptism, which was administered accordingly. The boy, who appeared to be the younger, surviving his baptism but a little time, died prematurely; his sister, however, continued in good health, and differed not in the least from the women of our own country. Afterwards, as it is reported, she was married at Lynne, and was living a few years since, at least, so they say.

Moreover, after they had acquired our language, on being asked who and whence they were, they are said to have replied, "We are inhabitants of the land of St. Martin, who is regarded with peculiar veneration in the country which gave us birth." Being further asked where that land was, and how they came thence hither, they answered, "We are ignorant of both those circumstances; we only remember this, that on a certain day, when we were feeding our father's flocks in the fields, we heard a great sound, such as we are now accustomed to hear at St. Edmund's, when the bells are chiming; and whilst listening to the sound in admiration, we became on a sudden, as it were, entranced, and found ourselves among you in the fields where you were reaping." Being questioned whether in that land they believed in Christ, or whether the sun arose, they replied that the country was Christian, and possessed churches; but said they, "The sun does not rise upon our countrymen; our land is little cheered by its beams; we are contented with that twilight, which, among you, precedes the sun-rise, or follows the sunset. Moreover, a certain luminous country is seen, not far distant from ours, and divided from it by a very considerable river." These, and many other matters, too numerous to particularize, they are said to have recounted to curious inquirers. Let everyone say as he pleases, and reason on such matters according to his abilities; I feel no regret at having recorded an event so prodigious and miraculous.

Appendix 1: On further research, I have found that there is a form of lead poisoning that comes about when a person lives without proper access to daylight.  This can give a person grey skin tinged with a little green. This is the nearest thing I have found to a none supernatural explanation to this phenomena. As for the children not being able to understand a word of English, it could be speculated that they could have been Welsh or Cornish. The Celtic language would still have been common in Wales or Cornwall in the 12^th century. Could that have been the case with these two youngsters? With small parties of Vikings making their way to the Arabian court and to America during the previous four centuries, it could be possible. Stranger things have happened.





Welsh tin mine

Appendix 2: In regards to the two youngsters appearing out of the ground, there could very well be a connection with this and the possibility that they were from mining families – see above, in relation to the possible lead poisoning/sunlight deprivation. Mines would have employed children in this period. Living in or near mines and caverns may well have been the only thing that they were used to. Thus, they would have sought shelter in similar places on their possible journey east.

Of a sign which was seen in the heavens, and of the storming of certain castles

                This is the History of English Affairs again. William of Newburgh finds himself utterly speechless in this episode, and this from a man that by all accounts has his head screwed on tighter than the lid of a pickle jar.

Aumale, France. Now.



Twin Suns



Nonancourt, France. Now.

In the octaves of Pentecost [16 June 1196], and in the first hour of the day, two suns appeared in the heavens; namely, the true sun and a second, its equal in size and brilliancy. Nor was it easy to discern which of them was the true one, unless by its regular course; for the other appeared to follow it at a little higher elevation -- a presage, perchance, of the evils, which ensued: and this sign I beheld with my own eyes, with some others who were with me. After we had for some time stood gazing at so unusual a spectacle in suspense and amazement, of a sudden, like men overcome with fatigue we were casting down our eyes, the counterfeit of the true sun vanished away. Nor was it long after this that, the period of the truce which had slightly cheered the harassed people being completed, the bloodthirsty rage of the princes once more broke out. To arms rushed everyone at full speed; and the provinces lately so flourishing was devastated by fire and sword.

The king of France with his forces besieged Aumale, and the king of England that castle which is called Nonancourt, which was formerly in his possession, but which some time since had been seized by the French monarch. Having quickly gained possession of it, he was besought by his people to undertake the task of repelling the enemy and raising the siege; but he paid no heed to their requests, either dreading a battle, which must have been bloody to the last degree, or trusting with confidence in the valour of his men who were gallantly defending the beleaguered fortress. Turning about, with the intention of laying waste the hostile frontiers, he studiously endeavoured to draw off the besiegers without mutual bloodshed; but persisting with stubborn determination in effecting his purpose, at last, after much labour and loss to his army, he obtained possession of the castle by surrender, and razed it to the ground. This loss but little afflicted the king of England, who was compensated for it by the possession of a more renowned castle; which, however, fell not long after once more into the hands of the French king, having been surprised at a moment when it was inadequately defended. The enmity between the princes waxing fiercer and fiercer, the task of restoring peace was undertaken in vain by the well-disposed and prudent, for they closed their ears to all peaceful counsel. For, as it is written, "They are like the deaf adder that stoppeth her ear; which will not hearken to the voice of the charmers" [Psalm 8: 4, 5.]

In this matter the cause of the king of England, who was only seeking his own right, was the more powerful, and his wrath beyond a doubt the juster, as has been shown above. Peace being thus despaired of -- since neither the one could by any reasoning be induced to give up that which he held unlawfully, nor the other to rest until his right was re-established, -- the more these proud princes chafed at one another, so much the more did the unhappy people lament; for whenever kings rage, the innocent people suffer for it.