Summer Solstice Celebrations in the Frankish Kingdom
Midsummerz
Summer Solstice Celebrations in the Frankish Kingdom
By Drokka Calledonii
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Midsummer
Summer Solstice Celebrations in the Frankish Kingdom
By Drokka Calledonii.
My dearest Letitia,
I have so much to tell of my current surroundings. I fear much of it will distress you greatly. I must first inform you that I have not yet arrived in Mainz, or in the lands of Saladin. I am shamed by my inability to find either; however, I am only partly to blame. I took the young man I told you about in my last letter to be my squire based on his assurance that he could guide us onto the road to the Holy Land. I no longer trust in his abilities. I am still cursed with the inability to read the stars. I am still deeply ashamed that you were always the one who drove us safely out of the forests after a hunt. Were father still alive… well, let us not dwell on such a thought.
Amando, my squire has managed to lead our nearly broken horses to a place called Perignan, where we will have to stay for some time. While I admired a small village that appeared before our eyes as we broke from the dense forest, there was a rustling sound in the brush. I signalled to Amando to keep quiet as I slowly dismounted. Before I could get my second foot on the ground, these screaming monsters flew out of the foliage, under the horse and off toward the village. My steed reared and bolted and I found myself questioning how many times a man can hit his head on the rocky ground before it becomes dislodged from his body. Suddenly, I stopped and wondered if my body looked more ridiculous bouncing of the terrain without its head, when it occurred to me that if I was unlikely to be wondering if I were whole.
After a moment, still uncertain of my predicament, I slowly opened my eyes only to see another tiny pair staring right at me, and then the mouth below it opened to reveal a toothless grin. He yelled something to someone and then left, but mere moments later he was back under my horse’s belly looking at me and he asked me a question. I think, I do not understand their tongue, but Amando said the child asked if we were staying for a festival the next night, yester eve as I write. I will explain this fete later. You will not believe what these people get up to in the Pyranees Mountains. (I will tell you of my journey from Strasbourg, where I picked up the errant Amando upon my return to Prague).
The child’s father, Raynard is highly respected for his knowledge of animals and the children, Louis the toothless boy, and his sister Claire are also very much at ease with beasts of all kinds. I am glad of Raynard’s knowledge. He told me my leg would heal with a fortnight of light exercise and no riding. My mount does not seem overly upset by the notion of staying put for some time. Amando is having difficulty hiding the fact that he is well beyond happy about our predicament. For me, it is yet another embarrassment at not being able to join the Crusade. How will the people of Prague ever trust in me, their lord, if I cannot even find the path to the Holy Land?
I waste space. When not flirting with the lovely Claire, Amando, who will surely be the death of me, was able to discern that these people celebrate the solstice on the day of St. John the Baptist and not on the same day as we do. That is strange enough, but what they do is horrific! Letitia my dearest sister, never travel here with your furry friend, Max; he would not survive. These people are of the cruellest breed. Well, not Raynard and his lot, but these Franks, they oh… Like our midsummer, the village lights a large bonfires but they hang a sack or wicker net filled with cats over the fire. It is of the outmost cruelty!
A few years ago, Raynard and his children decided to start stealing the cats and hiding them so that they will not be tortured. When the villagers could not find cats, they resorted to frogs. Frogs! The collect them and just throw them in the flames. As they jump out, choking and burned, the villagers grab them and throw them back in. I told Amando we could not stay for this. He explained that Raynard had sent his children to steal the stored frogs and snakes and they would hide them as well. They insisted there would be no reason to worry.
We helped set up the Quinconces for the bonfire in the morning but when Claire saw that I was up and about, she had me help with the food. A man can only cut so many vegetables before he begins to feel emasculated. The atmosphere in the village is something you would appreciate. Amando, who I believe has a life that is fated to be quite short, told all the women of the village that I am a great knight. They are clearly seeing well past my frayed armour and my rusty sword. He neglected to tell them that I have no holdings, money or prospects and that I am keen on joining the Crusade in order to save face. What a success I have been!
What I did not realize was that there was another motivation for his telling of my position. On this Day of St. John, the entire Frankish population has the right to be seditious without repercussion. Being a knight, I am the most highly placed person in the village and am the mercy of all to accept their unending insults. Letitia, I have had to endure their taunting all day. This would not bother me so as I do not understand their tongue, but my extremely devoted squire fancies himself a translator. If what Amando tells me they are saying is true, I cannot believe any king would bear listening to it before someone lost their lives.
I have taken much of your time my lovely sister. I will write again and tell you how the villagers reacted when they see the cats, snakes and frogs return from the forest; and how Amando is getting on with Claire without her father’s knowledge. I do want to assure you that my foot will heal and that little Louis polices my every move so that I do not over do any activity. I assume this is his father’s doing. v
I have had time to reflect over the last three days and I have decided that despite my promise to join the Crusade, I am quite pleased that I have a squire as directionally challenged as I, whether by design or not.
Your adoring brother,
Theodoric of Prague
Sources:
Midsummer in the Pyrenees Author(s): Jean Carlyle Graham Speakman Source: Folklore, Vol. 12, No. 3, (Sep., 1901), pp. 315-317 Published by: Taylor & Francis, Ltd. on behalf of Folklore Enterprises, Ltd. Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/1254298 Accessed: 25/05/2008 08:50
"Historien i Kartor", 1971, Läromedelsförlagen, Stockholm, Gunnar Saietz Förlag AB, Lidingö
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