Dancing for Joy

Is it really you? I didn't recognise you with your hood up. Has anybody ever told you you've got nice legs? Anyway, what can I get you to drink?

When I bring your mulled cider I'll point out a couple of members of the party travelling with Master Fermor, merchant. He's come all the way from Calais and among the party is a sharp-witted fellow whose company I think you might enjoy. The story I heard is that plague has been spreading through southern France, and Master Fermor wanted to get out before it began heading north.

The thuggish looking fellow with the gorilla brow and the shaved head is actually not as rough as he seems. In fact he's quite the wit; he's asked me to have a word with the band at the far end of the room, which I intend to do as soon as I don't have my hands full of tankards and thirsty customers wanting their drinks. And by the way, the choice of fish pies isn't bad but I wouldn't recommend their stargazy pie unless you're planning to share with Scrattleclaws, the inn cat! And I should warn you, she doesn't wait to be asked, if she likes the look of what you eat, she'll be in your lap before you've even smelt it.
Sam Boteler doesn't generally approve of the staff joining the dancing, but the punters seem happy enough tonight and Sam himself is sick and can't stray far from the privy so I took the chance to join in a round dance for a while and one of Master Fermor's men was being utterly merciless, exaggerating the movements and mannerisms of anyone who caught his eye!

References

Lady Eleanor Cleavely's dissertation on the Fool in King Lear
More on the history of this carol.
                   

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Through a Glass, Darkly

To answer the riddle that Master Garrett puts to me, I must have two things:
I immediately find myself thinking along the lines of "eye of toad, and wing of bat..."
Doctor Dee continues to explain:
A lock, and a key. Our Lock is an item of knowledge, but not how it may be used. Our Key is he that hath  understanding to use what is known, but possesses not the Lock.
And am I one of these two, Doctor Dee?
You are. Or more properly, what you have told us of last night is the Key. Now it is for Doctor Kelley and myself to find the Lock and apply the Key. And in order that the Key may open the lock, we shall also have need of you if you are willing?
How do you propose to use me?
If you will, get you to the priest and be shriven and fast until the seventh hour today when you shall come here and join myself and Doctor Kelley in a scrying for the Lock.
I followed the instructions given, firstly seeking confession with the village priest. I never imagined I might have accumulated so many sins until he suggested a list of possible headings! And although Master Garrett wasn't keen on the idea, I was given leave to make my way to the house of Doctor Dee. By the time the seventh hour rolled around I think I could have recited the pater noster backwards and my tummy was rumbling quite noticeably.

Doctor Kelley's study was surprisingly tidy; a couple of shelves held ancient-looking books, and such furnishings as there were had been moved back against the walls to make room for a small table in the centre of the room on which lay a bundle wrapped in black velvet. Doctor Dee bade me be seated, and carefully unwrapped the velvet bundle to reveal a slab of polished obsidian.
Now Doctor Dee picked one of the vials from the collection on Doctor Kelley's desk, uncorked it, and using the feather end of an uncut quill, proceeded to draw a faint circle encompassing the chairs and table where I was seated. At each of the cardinal points of the compass, he added an obscure symbol and invoked the protection of one of his familiars; I remember the names of Il, Po and Va but forget the fourth.
Finally Dee and Kelley settled themselves around the table equidistantly we joined hands and Doctor Kelley advised me to close my eyes and recall as clearly as I might, every detail of the night before when I was awoken.
With eyes closed, I listened to Doctor Kelley murmuring what seemed at first to be random phrases; a cat cries, a rat finds an apple core, the mice scratch at their fleas. I know my mind started to wander, and I may have missed something, but when he said The heaven opens and the seeker descends! I came back to earth with a start. I am afraid my surprise disturbed the mood and if neither of the Doctors had said anything I still would have known that they were less than pleased with my conduct. However, they did at least confide that they felt something had been achieved, even if they did not elect to enlighten me further.
Leaving the house of Doctor Dee in the dark, my spirits were thoroughly cast down and I would happily have slunk back to Master Garrett's loft to break my fast with a cold pie but on my way back into the village Peter and his sweetheart, Susan siezed me one by each arm and frogmarched me to the tavern, refusing to let me leave once more until I had lined my belly, drunk good cider, and danced a measure or two.

References

Doctor Kelley hath his own page in the Booke of Faces
                   

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Lord of the Dance (4/4)

Mishto hom mi dikava tute! (Good to see you made it here!). I'm sure you're wondering why I just took off and jumped all the way to eastern Europe. One of the German chivalric orders has been supervising a programme of (rather militaristic) colonization in this area, so here in Schäßburg,
Romania, seemed like a good place to start looking for the missing children.
The date today is Friday July 7th, 1284. With the extraordinary powers of persuasion which two gold ducats endowed me I bought us both temporary fellowship in a kumpania (Romany family), including sleeping quarters in one of their vardos. The accommodation is actually pretty respectable if you compare it with most common folks in this period. And I have to credit the Rom; their personal hygiene is a good deal better than most common folks. Of course, since we aren't Rom ourselves we get referred to as "paash raat", their term for a gaje who has adopted the nomadic lifestyle.

I should also explain that I abandoned my male persona shortly after arriving here. These wily gypsies saw right through my disguise and actually suggested a couple of improvements I hadn't thought of, but I'm quite happy for them to refer to me as miri kushti b'o-r (my dear (non-Rom) lady). I'm afraid as far as the family is concerned I haven't been much use for more than the most basic tasks; grooming the horses (they have three, two of them fine draft horses apparently), and fetching water and firewood. The wife of Chief Lovar has offered to teach me some fortune-telling skills but nothing has come of it so far.
However, the family has been very helpful in establishing a rapport with Laszlo Kriwaczek, one of the shepherds, and it is from Laszlo that I gleaned the most important information.

If you come with me up the hill I will show you the place that Laszlo pointed out to me where he saw, with his own eyes, as he told me, "a great river of alien children emerge from the cave. Some of them crying, and all of them weary." He has also told me how some of the families of the town took the younger ones in and lodged them with their own children. Most of the older children have been taken in as servants; the region is still recovering from raids by Mongol invaders about forty years ago, and there is plenty of work for young healthy bodies.
Without any prompting he gave me some important details: none of the children were more than eleven or twelve years old by appearance, and their language was strange to his ears.
Sadly, as a gypsy my welcome is tempered by a suspicious caution and I haven't been able to make a close approach to any of the local families, but I have heard small groups of children talking in German!
So let me close this account of my investigation with a stamping dance which Dinu Dalakis (his "local" name) taught me, playing his bosh.

References

Romany / English Dictionary
Excerpts from the original Finding Romanistan programme

  

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Lord of the Dance (4/4)

Mishto hom mi dikava tute! (Good to see you made it here!). I'm sure you're wondering why I just took off and jumped all the way to eastern Europe. One of the German chivalric orders has been supervising a programme of (rather militaristic) colonization in this area, so here in Schäßburg,
Romania, seemed like a good place to start looking for the missing children.
The date today is Friday July 7th, 1284. With the extraordinary powers of persuasion which two gold ducats endowed me I bought us both temporary fellowship in a kumpania (Romany family), including sleeping quarters in one of their vardos. The accommodation is actually pretty respectable if you compare it with most common folks in this period. And I have to credit the Rom; their personal hygiene is a good deal better than most common folks. Of course, since we aren't Rom ourselves we get referred to as "paash raat", their term for a gaje who has adopted the nomadic lifestyle.

I should also explain that I abandoned my male persona shortly after arriving here. These wily gypsies saw right through my disguise and actually suggested a couple of improvements I hadn't thought of, but I'm quite happy for them to refer to me as miri kushti b'o-r (my dear (non-Rom) lady). I'm afraid as far as the family is concerned I haven't been much use for more than the most basic tasks; grooming the horses (they have three, two of them fine draft horses apparently), and fetching water and firewood. The wife of Chief Lovar has offered to teach me some fortune-telling skills but nothing has come of it so far.
However, the family has been very helpful in establishing a rapport with Laszlo Kriwaczek, one of the shepherds, and it is from Laszlo that I gleaned the most important information.

If you come with me up the hill I will show you the place that Laszlo pointed out to me where he saw, with his own eyes, as he told me, "a great river of alien children emerge from the cave. Some of them crying, and all of them weary." He has also told me how some of the families of the town took the younger ones in and lodged them with their own children. Most of the older children have been taken in as servants; the region is still recovering from raids by Mongol invaders about forty years ago, and there is plenty of work for young healthy bodies.
Without any prompting he gave me some important details: none of the children were more than eleven or twelve years old by appearance, and their language was strange to his ears.
Sadly, as a gypsy my welcome is tempered by a suspicious caution and I haven't been able to make a close approach to any of the local families, but I have heard small groups of children talking in German!
So let me close this account of my investigation with a stamping dance which Dinu Dalakis (his "local" name) taught me, playing his bosh:

Click on the music to visit the site and get a complete copy

References

Romany / English Dictionary
Excerpts from the original Finding Romanistan programme

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Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 Unported License.

Lord of the Dance (3/4)

s friars, even mendicant friars, we are expected to attend mass once in a while, and since today is Monday the 26th of June it would look fishy if we failed to attend the festival mass of Saints John and Paul. The town is busier than usual for a Monday with people from many of the surrounding villages who have come to town for the festival mass, and presumably at least some of them are hoping for special blessings on this festival of two saints.

It's not hard to get caught up in the crowd squeezing into the Minster of St.Boniface and once inside I am surprised yet again by the absence of something I had expected: the smell of a large mass of unwashed medieval humanity in a confined space is much less noticeable (or my nostrils have become desensitized during our stay here) than the sweet scent of bunches of herbs hung from the walls and stacked in the corners of the windows.
At about the point that the priest is making the absolution I plan to slip outside, and I encourage you to do the same. If anybody asks where we're going, say it's a call of nature. On a feast like today's the mass can take quite a bit of time if the clergy are keen to include all the various options in the service which might give the piper more time than he needs to do his dirty work. My hope is that we can catch him in the act (but remember, look, but do nothing that might change the course of events!).
We don't have long to wait in the shadows of the Minster before I hear the sound of that shawm once more. The streets are not deserted, but very much quieter than earlier, with the few traders who have chosen not to attend mass vying for the closest positions to the entrance to the Minster. Making our way towards the town walls, aiming to get closer to the sound of the shawm a couple of young girls come running out of one of the smaller houses. The older girl is clearly trying to get her younger sister to listen to her cries to come back, but within minutes, both seem more curious about the sound of the shawm which is definitely playing more musically this time.
The air is a dance tune with a lively beat, and I find the jigging rhythm almost hypnotic.

Getting to the town gate, it is clear that we are following the last of the stragglers. Ahead of us, on the westward road heading up towards the hills is a sizeable crowd of dancing children and keeping up is quite an exercise in itself. By the time they reach the stand of yew trees on the lower slopes I have lost sight of them completely and when I manage to struggle up there myself, the grove is completely quiet.

The story we are trying to follow speaks of them entering a cave and it doesn't take long to find the trail of trodden-down bushes and broken branches. By the time the undergrowth gives way to the rocky ground there is a cleft in the rocks a few meters to the right, small enough for less well-nourished bodies to squeeze through. But my calls and whistles go unanswered.
The eeriest thing though, to me, is the silence up here. No birds, not even crows cawing in the trees. And nothing grows under the yew trees. The ground is just littered with leaf mold and little red berries.
Perhaps the best plan would be to return to the town and make a respectable exit. If we just disappear I am worried that we might become part of the legend, however unlikely it is that anybody would ordinarily notice the departure of two mendicants. Particularly, I am worried that if we should disappear without some kind of explanation, somebody will make a link between us, and the missing children. And Mother Church has a long reputation of accepting oblatus novices without examining their past too closely.

The written content of this work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 Unported License.

Lord of the Dance (3/4)

s friars, even mendicant friars, we are expected to attend mass once in a while, and since today is Monday the 26th of June it would look fishy if we failed to attend the festival mass of Saints John and Paul. The town is busier than usual for a Monday with people from many of the surrounding villages who have come to town for the festival mass, and presumably at least some of them are hoping for special blessings on this festival of two saints.

It's not hard to get caught up in the crowd squeezing into the Minster of St.Boniface and once inside I am surprised yet again by the absence of something I had expected: the smell of a large mass of unwashed medieval humanity in a confined space is much less noticeable (or my nostrils have become desensitized during our stay here) than the sweet scent of bunches of herbs hung from the walls and stacked in the corners of the windows. At about the point that the priest is making the absolution I plan to slip outside, and I encourage you to do the same. If anybody asks where we're going, say it's a call of nature. On a feast like today's the mass can take quite a bit of time if the clergy are keen to include all the various options in the service which might give the piper more time than he needs to do his dirty work. My hope is that we can catch him in the act (but remember, look, but do nothing that might change the course of events!). We don't have long to wait in the shadows of the Minster before I hear the sound of that shawm once more. The streets are not deserted, but very much quieter than earlier, with the few traders who have chosen not to attend mass vying for the closest positions to the entrance to the Minster. Making our way towards the town walls, aiming to get closer to the sound of the shawm a couple of young girls come running out of one of the smaller houses. The older girl is clearly trying to get her younger sister to listen to her cries to come back, but within minutes, both seem more curious about the sound of the shawm which is definitely playing more musically this time. The air is a dance tune with a lively beat, and I find the jigging rhythm almost hypnotic.

Getting to the town gate, it is clear that we are following the last of the stragglers. Ahead of us, on the westward road heading up towards the hills is a sizeable crowd of dancing children and keeping up is quite an exercise in itself. By the time they reach the stand of yew trees on the lower slopes I have lost sight of them completely and when I manage to struggle up there myself, the grove is completely quiet.

The story we are trying to follow speaks of them entering a cave and it doesn't take long to find the trail of trodden-down bushes and broken branches. By the time the undergrowth gives way to the rocky ground there is a cleft in the rocks a few meters to the right, small enough for less well-nourished bodies to squeeze through. But my calls and whistles go unanswered. The eeriest thing though, to me, is the silence up here. No birds, not even crows cawing in the trees. And nothing grows under the yew trees. The ground is just littered with leaf mold and little red berries. Perhaps the best plan would be to return to the town and make a respectable exit. If we just disappear I am worried that we might become part of the legend, however unlikely it is that anybody would ordinarily notice the departure of two mendicants. Particularly, I am worried that if we should disappear without some kind of explanation, somebody will make a link between us, and the missing children. And Mother Church has a long reputation of accepting oblatus novices without examining their past too closely.

The written content of this work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 Unported License.

The Lord of the Dance (2/4)

I hope you slept better than I did. It took me hours to get to sleep because of flea bites and I woke a couple of times in the night (apart from Matins ), convinced that there were rats nipping at my fingers and toes although I don't think I've heard any skittering feet since last night's frische Luft performance.
oday, God be praised! is Friday, the 23rd of June, in the year of our Lord, 1284 and if the tales are correct ('scuse the pun), the ratcatcher will be attempting to collect his payment from the burghers of the town, a gros for every rat according to his account. Since the rathaus is a busy commercial focal point, we have an ideal excuse to find a convenient perch beside the entrance where we can sing psalms, perhaps preach a couple of improvised sermons, and ask alms while watching for the ratcatcher.
By sext, I have all but given up hope of seeing anything notable. And my piety has given way to my mischievous nature, which is why when you came back from getting some lunch I was wearing my most pious face and singing quietly "In Taberna Quando Sumus" from the Carmina Burana. The latin sounds pious enough to most common folk, but the words are fun!

In taberna quando sumus non curamus quid sit humus, sed ad ludum properamus, cui semper insudamus. Quid agatur in taberna ubi nummus est pincerna, hoc est opus ut queratur, si quid loquar, audiatur. Quidam ludunt, quidam bibunt, quidam indiscrete vivunt. Sed in ludo qui morantur, ex his quidam denudantur quidam ibi vestiuntur, quidam saccis induuntur. Ibi nullus timet mortem sed pro Baccho mittunt sortem: Primo pro nummata vini, ex hac bibunt libertini; semel bibunt pro captivis, post hec bibunt ter pro vivis, quater pro Christianis cunctis quinquies pro fidelibus defunctis, sexies pro sororibus vanis, septies pro militibus silvanis. Octies pro fratribus perversis, nonies pro monachis dispersis, decies pro navigantibus undecies pro discordaniibus, duodecies pro penitentibus, tredecies pro iter agentibus. Tam pro papa quam pro rege bibunt omnes sine lege. Bibit hera, bibit herus, bibit miles, bibit clerus, bibit ille, bibit illa, bibit servis cum ancilla, bibit velox, bibit piger, bibit albus, bibit niger, bibit constans, bibit vagus, bibit rudis, bibit magnus. Bibit pauper et egrotus, bibit exul et ignotus, bibit puer, bibit canus, bibit presul et decanus, bibit soror, bibit frater, bibit anus, bibit mater, bibit ista, bibit ille, bibunt centum, bibunt mille. Parum sexcente nummate durant, cum immoderate bibunt omnes sine meta. Quamvis bibant mente leta, sic nos rodunt omnes gentes Qui nos rodunt confundantur et sic erimus egentes. et cum iustis non scribantur.

When we are in the tavern, we do not care that we will go to dust, but we hurry to gamble, which always makes us sweat. What happens in the tavern, where money is host, you may well ask, and hear what I say. Some gamble, some drink, some behave loosely. But of those who gamble, some are stripped bare, some win their clothes here, some are dressed in sacks. Here no-one fears death, but they throw the dice in the name of Bacchus. First of all it is to the wine-merchant the the libertines drink, one for the prisoners, three for the living, four for all Christians, five for the faithful dead, six for the loose sisters, seven for the footpads in the wood, Eight for the errant brethren, nine for the dispersed monks, ten for the seamen, eleven for the squabblers, twelve for the penitent, thirteen for the wayfarers. To the Pope as to the king they all drink without restraint. The mistress drinks, the master drinks, the soldier drinks, the priest drinks, the man drinks, the woman drinks, the servant drinks with the maid, the swift man drinks, the lazy man drinks, the white man drinks, the black man drinks, the settled man drinks, the wanderer drinks, the stupid man drinks, the wise man drinks, The poor man drinks, the sick man drinks, the exile drinks, and the stranger, the boy drinks, the old man drinks, the bishop drinks, and the deacon, the sister drinks, the brother drinks, the old lady drinks, the mother drinks, this man drinks, that man drinks, a hundred drink, a thousand drink. Six hundred pennies would hardly suffice, if everyone drinks immoderately and immeasurably. However much they cheerfully drink we are the ones whom everyone scolds, and thus we are destitute. May those who slander us be cursed and may their names not be written in the book of the righteous.

The traffic to and from the building has consisted entirely of scruffy town folk and the occasional richly dressed burgher until a fellow comes out of the building with a deep scowl and shouts up at the windows;
"Wenn Sie nicht zahlen mich in Gelt, ich will etwas viel kostbare von Ihnen" before storming off. ("If you will not pay me in gold, I will take something more precious from you!")
His tatty clothing and the beery smell aren't at all what I was expecting, but he seems like the most likely candidate for the fellow we are looking for. I think we should both hurry along and see if we can't get a good look at him. Perhaps if we offer him a holy blessing he will pause long enough that we can get a good look at him?

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The Lord of the Dance (2/4)

I hope you slept better than I did. It took me hours to get to sleep because of flea bites and I woke a couple of times in the night (apart from Matins ), convinced that there were rats nipping at my fingers and toes although I don't think I've heard any skittering feet since last night's frische Luft performance.
oday, God be praised! is Friday, the 23rd of June, in the year of our Lord, 1284 and if the tales are correct ('scuse the pun), the ratcatcher will be attempting to collect his payment from the burghers of the town, a gros for every rat according to his account. Since the rathaus is a busy commercial focal point, we have an ideal excuse to find a convenient perch beside the entrance where we can sing psalms, perhaps preach a couple of improvised sermons, and ask alms while watching for the ratcatcher.
By sext, I have all but given up hope of seeing anything notable. And my piety has given way to my mischievous nature, which is why when you came back from getting some lunch I was wearing my most pious face and singing quietly "In Taberna Quando Sumus" from the Carmina Burana. The latin sounds pious enough to most common folk, but the words are fun!

In taberna quando sumus non curamus quid sit humus, sed ad ludum properamus, cui semper insudamus. Quid agatur in taberna ubi nummus est pincerna, hoc est opus ut queratur, si quid loquar, audiatur. Quidam ludunt, quidam bibunt, quidam indiscrete vivunt. Sed in ludo qui morantur, ex his quidam denudantur quidam ibi vestiuntur, quidam saccis induuntur. Ibi nullus timet mortem sed pro Baccho mittunt sortem: Primo pro nummata vini, ex hac bibunt libertini; semel bibunt pro captivis, post hec bibunt ter pro vivis, quater pro Christianis cunctis quinquies pro fidelibus defunctis, sexies pro sororibus vanis, septies pro militibus silvanis. Octies pro fratribus perversis, nonies pro monachis dispersis, decies pro navigantibus undecies pro discordaniibus, duodecies pro penitentibus, tredecies pro iter agentibus. Tam pro papa quam pro rege bibunt omnes sine lege. Bibit hera, bibit herus, bibit miles, bibit clerus, bibit ille, bibit illa, bibit servis cum ancilla, bibit velox, bibit piger, bibit albus, bibit niger, bibit constans, bibit vagus, bibit rudis, bibit magnus. Bibit pauper et egrotus, bibit exul et ignotus, bibit puer, bibit canus, bibit presul et decanus, bibit soror, bibit frater, bibit anus, bibit mater, bibit ista, bibit ille, bibunt centum, bibunt mille. Parum sexcente nummate durant, cum immoderate bibunt omnes sine meta. Quamvis bibant mente leta, sic nos rodunt omnes gentes Qui nos rodunt confundantur et sic erimus egentes. et cum iustis non scribantur.

When we are in the tavern, we do not care that we will go to dust, but we hurry to gamble, which always makes us sweat. What happens in the tavern, where money is host, you may well ask, and hear what I say. Some gamble, some drink, some behave loosely. But of those who gamble, some are stripped bare, some win their clothes here, some are dressed in sacks. Here no-one fears death, but they throw the dice in the name of Bacchus. First of all it is to the wine-merchant the the libertines drink, one for the prisoners, three for the living, four for all Christians, five for the faithful dead, six for the loose sisters, seven for the footpads in the wood, Eight for the errant brethren, nine for the dispersed monks, ten for the seamen, eleven for the squabblers, twelve for the penitent, thirteen for the wayfarers. To the Pope as to the king they all drink without restraint. The mistress drinks, the master drinks, the soldier drinks, the priest drinks, the man drinks, the woman drinks, the servant drinks with the maid, the swift man drinks, the lazy man drinks, the white man drinks, the black man drinks, the settled man drinks, the wanderer drinks, the stupid man drinks, the wise man drinks, The poor man drinks, the sick man drinks, the exile drinks, and the stranger, the boy drinks, the old man drinks, the bishop drinks, and the deacon, the sister drinks, the brother drinks, the old lady drinks, the mother drinks, this man drinks, that man drinks, a hundred drink, a thousand drink. Six hundred pennies would hardly suffice, if everyone drinks immoderately and immeasurably. However much they cheerfully drink we are the ones whom everyone scolds, and thus we are destitute. May those who slander us be cursed and may their names not be written in the book of the righteous.

The traffic to and from the building has consisted entirely of scruffy town folk and the occasional richly dressed burgher until a fellow comes out of the building with a deep scowl and shouts up at the windows;
"Wenn Sie nicht zahlen mich in Gelt, ich will etwas viel kostbare von Ihnen" before storming off. ("If you will not pay me in gold, I will take something more precious from you!")
His tatty clothing and the beery smell aren't at all what I was expecting, but he seems like the most likely candidate for the fellow we are looking for. I think we should both hurry along and see if we can't get a good look at him. Perhaps if we offer him a holy blessing he will pause long enough that we can get a good look at him?

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Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 Unported License.

The Lord of the Dance (1/4)

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

Hamlet, Act I, scene 5
W.Shakespeare

To prepare for our latest excursion, I recommend reviewing a few perplexing mysteries. It vexes me that with almost a thousand years of human history available to us for exploration, and the benefits of scientific observation, there are still mysteries that resist explanation to any substantial extent.
In 1872 the brigantine Mary Celeste was boarded while under sail, and found to be sailing unmanned towards the straits of Gibraltar. The ship's lifeboat had apparently been launched but the ship's company were never found.
In 1809, on the night of November 25th, in the town of Perleberg, British diplomatic officer Benjamin Bathurst disappeared from the White Swan Inn after a pause to change horses.
In the fifteenth century, an opportunistic grave-robber who hoped to avail himself of the gold supposedly manufactured by alchemist Nicholas Flamel opened the alchemist's grave in Paris, but was shocked to discover that the grave contained neither projection powder for the manufacture of gold, gold, nor body!
In the twelfth century, two incongruous green-skinned children wandered into the village of Woolpit in England from the forest behind the wolf pit which gave the village its name. The boy grew sick and died, but the girl grew stronger and in time her skin colour became a normal human pink.
The German town of Hameln seems not to have been the only one that received a visit from a mysterious rat-catcher, though thanks to the Brothers Grimm it is probably the most well-known instance.
The town of Brandenburg lost all its children to a musician who enchanted the children and led them to some hidden place inside the Marienberg.
On July 15th, 1237, the children of the town of Erfurt were entranced, and followed a mysterious piper, dancing as far as Arnstadt where they collapsed, exhausted. When news of their whereabouts reached their parents in Erfurt their parents sent wagons to bring them home.
How do you fancy being a mendicant friar for a week or so? it'll probably mean going hungry a bit, but hopefully we will have a chance to see at first hand, who conjured the children away, and how they did it.

I have selected Thursday, the 22nd of June, 1284, a couple of days before the recorded date when the children of Hameln danced away from the town, as our starting point. That way we should be able to see the ratcatcher in action, and I hope, confirm that he is one and the same as the so-called "pied piper".
Perhaps because it is a river port on the Weser, the town certainly seems to be infested with rats as we arrive. Passing the dungpits outside the town walls the vermin are very much in evidence, not even bothering to conceal themselves from the men who cart the night soil. Once inside the town the rats are even more in evidence: every shady alley has its skitterings, small dark shapes disappear from the tops of barrels, and appear from under crates of fruit. And any article of food left untended for a moment soon receives the attention of the rodents. Did you see that monster carrying away the fishhead? I'm sure its tail was six inches long at least! ugh!
Since we arrived events have been fairly unremarkable, allowing for the constant presence of these disgusting rats, and their confounded fleas. One of the women trading in the marketplace convinced me that if I eat enough garlic the fleas will be less troublesome, so I have been adding a clove or two crushed, to my opportunistic meals.
With a bellyful of barley pottage at about two hours after Compline, having passed most of the day in asking alms and preaching, I am contentedly watching the sun set beside the Weser, and it is then that I hear the raucous sound of a shawm somewhere across town. You're welcome to remain here, but I'm off to see if I can find the source of the commotion.
Contrary to my expectations, the player (should I dignify his performance by calling him a musician? it seems to be more enthusiasm than skill right now) is not leading the rats, but herding them, from behind! As extraordinary as it seems, the rats seem to be running from the sound of the shawm as the player leaps and bounds from street to street!

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The Lord of the Dance (1/4)

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

Hamlet, Act I, scene 5 W.Shakespeare

To prepare for our latest excursion, I recommend reviewing a few perplexing mysteries. It vexes me that with almost a thousand years of human history available to us for exploration, and the benefits of scientific observation, there are still mysteries that resist explanation to any substantial extent. In 1872 the brigantine Mary Celeste was boarded while under sail, and found to be sailing unmanned towards the straits of Gibraltar. The ship's lifeboat had apparently been launched but the ship's company were never found. In 1809, on the night of November 25th, in the town of Perleberg, British diplomatic officer Benjamin Bathurst disappeared from the White Swan Inn after a pause to change horses. In the fifteenth century, an opportunistic grave-robber who hoped to avail himself of the gold supposedly manufactured by alchemist Nicholas Flamel opened the alchemist's grave in Paris, but was shocked to discover that the grave contained neither projection powder for the manufacture of gold, gold, nor body! In the twelfth century, two incongruous green-skinned children wandered into the village of Woolpit in England from the forest behind the wolf pit which gave the village its name. The boy grew sick and died, but the girl grew stronger and in time her skin colour became a normal human pink. The German town of Hameln seems not to have been the only one that received a visit from a mysterious rat-catcher, though thanks to the Brothers Grimm it is probably the most well-known instance. The town of Brandenburg lost all its children to a musician who enchanted the children and led them to some hidden place inside the Marienberg. On July 15th, 1237, the children of the town of Erfurt were entranced, and followed a mysterious piper, dancing as far as Arnstadt where they collapsed, exhausted. When news of their whereabouts reached their parents in Erfurt their parents sent wagons to bring them home. How do you fancy being a mendicant friar for a week or so? it'll probably mean going hungry a bit, but hopefully we will have a chance to see at first hand, who conjured the children away, and how they did it.

I have selected Thursday, the 22nd of June, 1284, a couple of days before the recorded date when the children of Hameln danced away from the town, as our starting point. That way we should be able to see the ratcatcher in action, and I hope, confirm that he is one and the same as the so-called "pied piper". Perhaps because it is a river port on the Weser, the town certainly seems to be infested with rats as we arrive. Passing the dungpits outside the town walls the vermin are very much in evidence, not even bothering to conceal themselves from the men who cart the night soil. Once inside the town the rats are even more in evidence: every shady alley has its skitterings, small dark shapes disappear from the tops of barrels, and appear from under crates of fruit. And any article of food left untended for a moment soon receives the attention of the rodents. Did you see that monster carrying away the fishhead? I'm sure its tail was six inches long at least! ugh! Since we arrived events have been fairly unremarkable, allowing for the constant presence of these disgusting rats, and their confounded fleas. One of the women trading in the marketplace convinced me that if I eat enough garlic the fleas will be less troublesome, so I have been adding a clove or two crushed, to my opportunistic meals. With a bellyful of barley pottage at about two hours after Compline, having passed most of the day in asking alms and preaching, I am contentedly watching the sun set beside the Weser, and it is then that I hear the raucous sound of a shawm somewhere across town. You're welcome to remain here, but I'm off to see if I can find the source of the commotion. Contrary to my expectations, the player (should I dignify his performance by calling him a musician? it seems to be more enthusiasm than skill right now) is not leading the rats, but herding them, from behind! As extraordinary as it seems, the rats seem to be running from the sound of the shawm as the player leaps and bounds from street to street!

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 Unported License.