13th Century Lemon Syrup - 2025

 13th Century Lemon Syrup

A PDF of this post can be found on my Academia page.

1) Introduction:

This is a revisit of a syrup that I have made many times. It is based on a recipe from the Anonymous Andalusian Cookbook. Oddly enough, the Cookbook doesn’t give any suggestions for using this syrup. Nor is this syrup mentioned anywhere else in the cookbook, but you most certainly can dilute it in hot or cold water and make lemonade. I have poured this over pound cake (poke some holes in the top of the cake, first), and it is a good glaze to apply on grilled chicken, or just spooned into hot tea.

This particular project, and documentation, was started the week before War Practice, which was not an impossible task as no fermentation was required. (Post War Practice note: I brought everything I needed for the competition, except for the syrup.)

 

2) Technical documentation of the project for people who don’t like reading 100 pages before finding the ingredient list.

2 pounds of lemons.
1/2 pound of sugar, muscovado was used for this project but any sugar can be used.
1 pint of water

Zest all of the lemons before juicing them into a measuring cup. Add in enough water to make sure that the liquid is a total of one cup in volume. Combine with the sugar and zest in a pot and bring to a boil. Then reduce the heat to a simmer and let it cook down for about an hour, stirring often. Just a warning: molten sugar is kitchen napalm; do not let it over heat as it will make a big mess. Also, do not continue to boil the liquid unless you wish to make lemon candy.

Reduce the liquid by half, then turn off the heat. Let cool before straining out the zest and moving the liquid to a container.

13th Century Lemon Syrup

An attractive beverage of the modern era is lemonade; sweet and tart, served ice cold, quenches one’s thirst on the hottest of days. But, lemonade has a history that dates back centuries and is easy to make. The Moorish cookbook, “The Anonymous Andalusian Cookbook”, list many syrups (or sharabs] that were used as ingredients for other dishes and sauces, but were also intended to be mixed with water and served as drinks. This project is based on the following recipe:

Syrup of Lemon
Take lemon, after peeling off the skin, press it [to a pulp] and take a ratl of juice, and add as much of sugar. Cook it until it takes the form of a syrup. Its advantages are for the heat of bile; it cuts the thirst and binds the bowels.[1]

 ===============

 The redaction from Rowan Houndskeeper

SYRUP OF LEMON = LEMONADE
Redaction:
2 c lemon juice (either purchased or fresh squeezed from ~12 large lemons)
2 c sugar
2 c water

Boil sugar, lemon juice, and water together in an adequately sized pot for ~15 minutes to obtain a thin syrup. This syrup should be diluted 1:2 with cold water to form lemonade. The original recipe doesn’t mention if this drink is served hot or cold. Served undiluted as a warm syrup it is actually quite tasty as a hot, refreshing alternative to herbal teas. Dilute it as directed above and you have period lemonade. Although dilution is not mentioned in the original recipe, most of the other herb or fruit syrup drinks in the same source do mention diluting with water. Therefore this is a reasonable interpretation of the original recipe. If there is any question about how “modern” this recipe is - a recipe nearly identical to the original period one can be found in The Good Housekeeping Illustrated Cookbook (1989) on p. 470.

===============

My method for this project:

The original recipe called for a ratl of lemon juice and the same amount of sugar. A ratl is between 400g and 470g depending on the source.[2] Martin Levey tells us that one ratl is equivalent to 406.25g, with the following caveat: “The weights mentioned in the text are those of ninth-century Baghdad....Very little is known of the exact weights of the units in most periods and most areas of the medieval Islamic world. The above values must, therefore, be considered uncertain subject to further research.”[3]

The actual amount does not matter; as long as the juice and the sugar are of equal weights.
2 pounds of lemons.
1/2 pound of muscovado sugar.
1 pint water

I zested[4] the lemons, cut them in half and squeezed the juice from them. This gave me just under 1 cup of lemon juice. I topped off the measuring cup with extra water bringing up the volume to 1 cup, or a half a pint. Since a pint’s a pound the world round,[5] we can maintain the equal weight ratio of the original recipe. I used whatever brand of lemons I found at my local grocery store; I did not have a choice between varieties or region, since I started this project at the beginning of May. I moved the zest and juice into a sauce pot and added the sugar.

I brought the mixture up to a boil to dissolve all of the sugar, then I dropped the heat down to a simmer and let the mixture reduce down by half, which took about 45 minutes. Once the mixture had reduced, I took the pot off of the heat and let it cool down.

Once cool, I strained the zest out and moved the syrup to a container and parked in the ‘fridge.

Water

I used tap water run through a Pur filter. The water from my tap is good, but I wanted to make sure that no funky flavors made their way into my syrup.

Sugar

I used muscovado, or un-refined sugar, because I feel that it is very close to the common sugar that was used in the time period.[6] Muscovado sugar, unlike the hard cones of piloncillo sugar, is still soft and scoopable. This means that I can easily measure out the amount of sugar that I need without resorting to a box grater. Period inventories and shopping lists mention sugar loaves as well as references to “sugre blanche”, “white sugar” or “candy sugar”. Which indicates that there was a difference between the varieties of sugar. Furthermore, The Anonymous Andalusian Cookbook uses the word “sugar” in most of its recipes but calls for other varieties of sugar in some: “good white sugar”,[7] “lump white sugar”,[8] “white sugar”,[9] “pounded white sugar”,[10] “white manna of sugarcane”[11] and “Sulaimani sugar”[12]

Balducci Pegolotti, an early 14th century Floretine trader, listed various types of sugar in his hand book...five kinds of loaf sugar, in order of quality: mucchera, cafetino, bambillonia, musciatto and dommaschino. The colour and cost of the loaves varied widely. A sugar loaf looks a little like a bomb. [13]

 

The Arabic sources from medieval times describe raw sugar as red (sukkar ahmar) rather than brown. A cone-shaped loaf of sugar, also called an ubluj, typically had a white upper section and a red or dark lower point. Tricks...were clearly employed by the sugar merchants to hide the red part, and present the illusion of an entire white cone.[14]

We expect our sugar to be white, uniform crystals, readily available at a moment’s notice. And while the market is offering organic, “unrefined” sugar (turbinado, cane crystals, raw sugar) it is still processed and packaged to be easily scooped and measured.

Sugar itself was exported in solid conical loaves of various sizes, since a cone-shaped mould was in standard use wherever sugar was refined. We tend to think of sugar as a pure, white and unvarying substance, but the difficulty and expense of refining meant that until the mid 19th century there were many more grades of sugar than today, and that a batch or loaf of sugar was by no means always white - and if it looked white on the outside, it may have been brown within. [15]

Muscovado[16] is un-refined, crystallized, sugar-cane juice, loaded with molasses. This is not the same as modern brown sugar which is processed, refined, white-sugar mixed with molasses; processed so that it can be easily spooned out.

Lemons

I purchased a bag of small lemons from my local store. The bag did not list a country of origin, but each lemon had a sticker labeled: Sunkist - 4033 - USA. I will assume that they are the Mayer variety grown in Florida.[17] I am disappointed that Wegman’s did not list more information on the bag, like they do for grapes and other bagged produce. I do not know what variety of lemons would have been available in 13th Century Spain, but it certainly wasn’t the Meyer variety, which was “invented” in 1908 by cultivator Frank Meyer who bred them from Chinese varieties he had imported.[18] I do not know what varieties of lemons would have existed in the 13th Century, but it really doesn’t matter; I was only able to secure one variety of lemon and did not have the time to hunt down other varieties. But, what do we know about lemons from the time period of the Cookbook? Did the author only know of one variety of lemon? Were they new to the region? Was this recipe a novel one or would the readers have been familiar with lemons?

According to Dr. Dafna Langgut, of the Tel Aviv University, lemons, sour oranges, limes and pomelos were introduced to the West by Muslim traders via Sicily and the Iberian Peninsula in the 10th century AD. “It is clear that Muslim traders played a crucial role in the dispersal of cultivated citrus in Northern Africa and Southern Europe,” Dr. Langgut said. “It’s also evident because the common names of many of the citrus types were derived from Arabic, following an earlier diversification in Southeast Asia. Muslims controlled extensive territory and commerce routes from India to the Mediterranean.”[19]

In 13th century Arabo-Andalusian cookery, added sourness in dishes was achieved by the use of sour apples, citron or pomegranates, in addition to that of vinegar and verjuice. In Christian Europe, recipes with lemon juice, of Arabic origin, were called Limonia (or limonea in the Sent Sovi) and they are found in the Liber de Coquina, the Anonimo Toscano, the Anonimo Veneziano and the Modus. Recipes with pomegranate were called Romania (Liber de Coquina, Anonimo Toscano, Modus). The Libre del Coch also uses lemon and orange juice for sauces. Candied lemon was used in Arabo-Andalusian cookery, and was found again at the end of the 16th century in Lancelot de Casteau. The Viandier de Taillevent (printed edition) has a recipe for blancmange with pomegranates. .. Initially citrus fruits were valued and cultivated for their healing and medicinal properties, their intense fragrance, and their ornamental flowers. In the 4th century BC, the citron was recorded as being cultivated in Persia and the Middle East, while the first lemons appeared in Rome around the 1st century AD (the citron being known during ancient Roman times as the Persian Pomo). Although, it’s known that lemons were grown at Pompeii earlier, as they feature in one of its famous wall frescoes dating to 79 BC. However, the first of the truly sweet citrus – oranges, only arrived in Italy from China in the mid-17th century.[20]

It would appear that the Andalusians would had had three centuries to cultivate and experiment with lemons, and while the Meyers that I used might have been sweeter than what was commonly available, I think that they would have been recognized as lemons and used in the same fashion as the locally grown varieties.

Stove and pot.

As to the cooking hardware, I used my electric stove top, a one quart stainless steel pot and a silicone slotted spoon. In the 13th Century, cooks would have used a ceramic, copper, or lead pot to cook in and would have placed the pot into hot coals, over a fire or on a hearth next to a fire. I prefer to cook using electricity because I can control it completely. And I don’t like open fire in my house. For this beverage I don’t think there would be any difference between fire and electricity other than there would be no smoke, ash, or particulate matter in my beverage, where, depending on the ventilation, there might be if I did this outside on my grill. Also, I used the pot that I had; stainless steel. The metal is non-reactive, but so is ceramic. Copper ions can leach out into acidic solutions and cause copperiedus[21] over time and I do not have to explain why using lead cookware is a bad thing. The 13th Century cooks did not have access to silicone, but I used a high-heat spatula because it is non-reactive and much easier to clean than wood. This is an occasion where the use of modern cookware is preferred to period cookware: safer to use; easier to clean; and doesn’t add or take away anything good that period equipment would possess.

 

Procedure.

Before I started, I gathered my hardware and cleaned everything. Then I scrubbed the edible wax from the lemons using running water and a green scrubby-pad.[22] I used a modern “ribbon” style zester instead of a micro plane as I wanted to be able to strain out all of the zest. I could have used a knife, which is what would have been done before the invention of zesting tools, but the lemons were slippery and I did not want to slice the rinds and then scrape the pith from them: all I wanted was the zest.... And all of my fingers intact. I had also intended to save the zest and hope that it turned into candied lemon peel, which I could use for a future project. With the two pounds on lemon, I ended up with a bit under 1 cup of very loosely packed zest, which turned into about two tablespoons at the end of the project.

Once I had zested all of the lemons, I sliced them in half and juiced them by hand. I didn’t worry about the seeds as I was going to pour the juice through a stainer. The amount of juice I got from the lemons was just under one cup. I had planned for a full pint of juice to go with the full pound of sugar, but I decided to reduce my project’s scope: I felt that working with a cup of juice and of sugar was more manageable than running out to the store and buying another two pounds of lemons.

  

 

   

 I weighed out one half pound of sugar using a kitchen scale and added it to my pot, along with the zest and the juice, poured through a strainer, as mentioned before. I brought the mixture to a boil and held it there until the sugar dissolved. Then I reduced the heat to a quiet simmer and cooked the mixture until volume reduced down to a thin syrup. I used the “back of the spoon” test. This reduction took about 45 minutes, with me adjusting the heat and stirring often. I strained the syrup through a metal sieve, pouring clean water over the zest to get most of the syrup, and poured the syrup into a bottle to cool. I ended up with 350ml[23] of syrup which was a bit thinner than what I was working for, but I did not want to cook the syrup any further and risk burning the sugar. What I had would be fine for a one week project.

While the recipe does not call for the syrup to be diluted, as I quoted from Rowan Houndskeeper, other recipes in the same section of the text do call for dilution with water: “The drink is made with two ûqiyas of syrup to three ûqiyas of hot water”;[24] “The drink is an ûqiya with two of hot water”;[25] “Drink an ûqiya and a half of this with three of water”.[26] I know from experience with this recipe, and other syrups from the Cookbook that the hot syrup is rather harsh and that it would need to cool down, overnight, to let the sweet and sour flavors meld.

Observations:

The recipe does not indicate whether to drink this hot or cold. It is very refreshing when cold, but I did sample it while it was still hot. At temperature, the smell and taste of lemons is almost over powering; it reminded me of a liquid cough drop, which was telling as, when I first made this beverage, many years ago, I did have a scratchy throat, due to the weather. The hot syrup did ease my throat pain almost immediately. This should not be surprising as hot lemon tea and honey is still recommended for sore throats, and the 1918 edition of The Dispensatory of the United States of America does list a very similar recipe for “syrup of lemon”.[27]

“Lemon Peel, in thin slices or grated, 20 grammes; Alcohol (90 per cent.), a sufficient quantity; Lemon Juice, 500 millilitres; Refined Sugar, 760 grammes. Macerate the Lemon Peel in thirty millilitres of the Alcohol for seven days; press; filter; add sufficient of the Alcohol to produce forty millilitres. In the Lemon Juice, clarified by subsidence or filtration, dissolve the Refined Sugar by the aid of gentle heat; cool; add the forty millilitres of alcoholic liquid; mix.” Br.[28]

Due to the molasses in the sugar, lemonade made from this syrup is much darker than modern lemonade, which is made from refined sugar, it also, I feel, has a much richer flavor. I also feel that this syrup can be used to cover a cake or over chicken, as a marinade, although the cookbook does not mention this syrup as an ingredient for other recipes. Further experimentation is necessary.

Due to the nature of these syrups, the actual ratio of syrup to water are user dependant. This syrup is not like a modern lemonade mix, which is formulated to be pleasant to a majority of pallets. The strong lemon and molasses flavors can be over powering if not diluted enough. My recommendation is to use a little of the syrup and dilute with water, taste, and then add more syrup or water as needed. Perhaps start with one quarter teaspoon of syrup to a full cup of water.


   

BIBLIOGRAPHY:

American Friends of Tel Aviv University. “Citrus fruits were the clear status symbols of the nobility in the ancient Mediterranean.” ScienceDaily. ScienceDaily, 18 August 2017. <www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2017/08/170818092100.htm>.

Anonymous Andalusian Cookbook. Kitab al tabikh fi-l-Maghrib wa-l-Andalus fi `asr al-Muwahhidin, li-mu’allif majhul. The Book of Cooking in Maghreb and Andalus in the era of Almohads, by an unknown author: 13th Century Al-Andalus Cookbook. translation is by Charles Perry and others

Cooperson, Michael; Perry, Charles; Toorawa, Shawkat M. “Scents and Flavors: a Syrian Cookbook.” New York University Press. New York. 2017.

Davidson, Linda Kay; Gitlitz, David M. A Drizzle of Honey: The Life and Recipes of Spain’s Secret Jews. Macmillan. 2000

Did You Know It’s Period? - Modern Medieval Food. THL Rowan Houndskeeper. Stefan’s Florilegium: DYKIP-Food-art - 5/29/09

Galloway, J. H. The Sugar Cane Industry: An Historical Geography from Its Origins to 1914. Cambridge University Press. 2005

gardenhistorygirl. “The ‘juicy’ Tale of the Renaissance Citron.” Gardenhistorygirl, 27 Apr. 2022, https://www.gardenhistorygirl.co.uk/post/the-juicy-tale-of-the-renaissance-citron.

Goldstein, Darra. “The Oxford Companion to Sugar and Sweets.” Oxford University Press, 2015.

McGee, Harold. On Food and Cooking: The Science and Lore of the Kitchen. Simon and Schuster, 2007.

The Medical Formulary, or Aqrabadhin of Al-kindi. Translated with a study of its materia medica by Martin Levey. University of Wisconsin Press. Madison, WI. 1966.

Meri, Josef W. “Medieval Islamic Civilization: An Encyclopedia, Volume 1” Psychology Press, 2006

Meyer, F. G.; Trueblood, E.E.; Heller ,J. L. , editors. The Great Herbal of Leonard Fuchs. 1542 edition. Stanford University Press, Palo Alto. CA. 1999.

“Muscovado, N.” Oxford English Dictionary, Oxford UP, September 2024, https://doi.org/10.1093/OED/1357600444.

“Oldcook : Fruits in Medieval Europe.” Oldcook, https://www.oldcook.com/en/medieval-fruit. Accessed 5 May 2025.

Richardson, Tim. Sweets: A History of Candy. Bloomsbury Publishing. 2008

Roberts, Teresa. Did You Know It’s Period? Modern Medieval Food by HL Rowan Houndskeeper. Stephen’s Flogiorun. 2008

Ruas, Marie-Pierre, et al. “Citrus Fruit in Historical France: Written Sources, Iconographic and Plant Remains”. AGRUMED: Archaeology and History of Citrus Fruit in the Mediterranean, edited by Véronique Zech-Matterne and Girolamo Fiorentino, Publications du Centre Jean Bérard, 2017, https://doi.org/10.4000/books.pcjb.2243.

Sato, Tsugitaka. Sugar in the Social Life of Medieval Islam. Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands 2014

ScienceDaily. “Citrus Fruits Were the Clear Status Symbols of the Nobility in the Ancient Mediterranean.” ScienceDaily, 18 Aug. 2017, https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2017/08/170818092100.htm.

Serjeant, R. B.; Bidwell, R. L. Arabian Studies. Cambridge University Press. 2005

Toussaint-Samat, Maguelonne. History of Food. Translated from the French bu Anthea Bell. Barnes & Noble Books. 1992.

University of Florida. “Meyer Lemon – Gardening Solutions.” UF/IFAS Center for Land Use Efficiency, https://gardeningsolutions.ifas.ufl.edu/plants/edibles/fruits/meyer-lemon/. Accessed 6 May 2025.

Vaughan, J. G.; Geissler, C. The New Oxford Book of Food Plants. Oxford University Press, Oxford. 1997.

Weiss Adamson, Melitta. Food in Medieval Times. Greenwood Publishing Group, 2004.

Wood, George Bacon; Bache, Franklin; Remington, Joseph Price; Sadtler, Samuel Philip. The Dispensatory of the United States of America. Grigg & Elliot. Philadelphia. 1918.

Zaouali, Lilia. “Medieval Cuisine of the Islamic World: A Concise History with 174 Recipes” Univ of California Press, Sep 14, 2009

 

[1] Andalusian Cookbook, p18
[2] Perry and Serjeant/Bidwell, respectively
[3] The Medical Formulary, or Aqrabadhin of Al-kindi, p25
[4] Using a modern zesting tool, I did not want to risk using a knife.
[5] At least it is here on planet Earth.
[6] 13th century Spain.
[7] Recipe for Zrbja
[8] Making of Elegant Isfunja
[9] Recipe for Jullbiyya, a Dish with Julep
[10] White Fldhaja With Milk
[11] Syrup of Sandalwood
[12] Another Like It, a Summer Dish that Cools the Body
[13] Richardson, p101-2
[14] Sato, p69
[15] Richardson, p101
[16] Muscovado is derived from a corruption of Portuguese “açúcar mascavado” (unrefined sugar) or the Spanish “mascabado” - (sugar) of lowest quality: EOD.
[17] Based on Sunkist’s website, and from reports of bad harvests in Texas and California.
[18] University of Florida
[19] ScienceDaily, quoting Dafna Langgut. The Citrus Route Revealed: From Southeast Asia into the Mediterranean. HortScience, 2017; 52 (6): 814 DOI: 10.21273/HORTSCI11023-16
[20] GardenhistoryGirl
[21] Copper toxicity
[22] Also not found in period, but our 13th Century cooks didn’t have to deal with edible wax and fruit stickers.
[23] Yes, I’m throwing in a metric measurement. I took the picture with the metric gauge facing me.
[24] p13,The Little Drink of Roots: Way of Making It
[25] p13, Syrup of Aloe Wood: Way of Making It
[26] p16, Syrup of Dried Roses
[27] Only mixed with alcohol.
[28] p147

 Scroll Text - Queen's Rapier Champion - Myrkfaelinn War Practice 2025

Kingdom of AEthelmearc - Rapier Championship

Do listen to these present letters of Murdoch and Ríoghnach, King and Queen of AEthelmearc; greeting and recommendation. Equity requires and reason ordains that nobles, virtuous and of good skill and knowledge, be rewarded for their merits by renown and recognition. And therefore We who not only by common renown, but also by the report and testimony of other nobles worthy of credence, are truly advertised and informed that [INSERT NAME HERE] has performed feats of combat and as well in this as in other of their affairs has borne them self valiantly and honorably so that they deserved well, and is well worth that henceforth they may be in all places be honorably admitted, renowned, counted, numbered, and received among the number and in the company of the Rapier Champions of AEthelmearc. And for the remembrance of this we assign to the said [INSERT NAME HERE] the right to bear the arms and devices of the Kingdom Champions. In witness whereof We King and Queen of AEthelmearc, as above named, have signed with our hands and sealed with our seal and given this 14 day of June in the Year of the Society fifty and ten.

based on the 1459/60 grant of arms to John Alfrey.

 Scroll Text - Rapier Champion - Baronial Champs 2025

Barony of the Rhydderich Hael - Rapier Championship

_______________________________________________

It has come to our notice the notable skill of arms shown in the list that we are so moved to take action. Thus, be it know that we have selected you as our rapier champion and to wear our regalia so that all may know our will in this matter. In witness whereof we have caused to be made these our letters. Witnessed in the 60th year of the Society. So signed Magnus, Baron. So signed Thalia, Baroness. 

https://www.flickr.com/photos/calebreynolds/54546636347/in/dateposted/

The Booke of Kervinge

The Booke of Kervinge - from a post originally published August 24, 2016

I'm re-posting the original post just so I can add the additional information to it. One of my future projects is to do a video or a photo journal of the methods of carving, listed, and if I post everything here, I won't have to look for the information, again.

====================================

"The Booke of Kervinge", published in 1508, listed the various methods of carving meat. Each animal was given its own term for dis-membership:

To break a deer
To lesche (1) a brawn (2)
To thigh a woodcock
To sauce a tench (3)
To disfigure a peacock
To lift a swan
To sauce a capon (4)
To spoil a hen
To frusche (5) a chicken
To unbrace a mallard
To unlace a coney (6)
To dismember a heron
To display a crane
To unjoint a bittern (7)
To untache a curlew (8)
To alay a felande (9)
To wing a partridge
To mine a plover (10)
To thigh a pigeon
To wing a quail
To border a pastry
To timber a fire (11)
To tire an egg
To chine a salmon
To string a lamprey
To splat a pike
To sauce a plaice (12)
To splay a bream (13)
To side a haddock
To rusk a barbel (14)
To culpon a trout
To fin a chevin (15)
To tranesse an eel
To tranch a sturgeon
To undertranch a porpoise
To rear a goose
To tame a crab
To barb a lobster

"The Booke" is an interesting read and I might have to go through and make a list of the methods of dismembering that are described in it. Certainly we can conclude that, if you were wealthy enough, you could eat any type of meat you wished.

(1) Leach.
(2) Meat from a pig's or calf's head that is cooked and pressed in a pot with jelly.
(3) A doctor fish (they wear little fezes and bowties).
(4) A castrated rooster.
(5) Truss.
(6) Either a rabbit or a grouper.
(7) A short-necked bird related to a heron.
(8) A long-beaked sea bird.
(9) Not a clue, but it might be a bird. And there is a possibility that the word is actually selande. Robert May substitutes "allay that pheasant" in his cookbook. It could be faisandé, which is an old French word for guinea fowl. Or it could be latin for pheasant, "FESAWNT, byrde. [The pheasant was brought into Europe from the banks of the Phasis, in Colchis, according to Martial, by the Argonauts ...  Ornix est gallus vel gallina silvestris, Anglice a fesande or a werkok." ORTUS. "A fesande, fasianus." CATH. ANG.] Fasianus, or∣nix, CATH." (Galfridus Anglicus' Promptorium parvulorum sive clericorum, dictionarius anglo-latinus princeps, auctore fratre Galfrido grammatico dicto, ex ordine fratrum Predicatorum, northfolciensi, circa A. D. M.CCCC.XL. Olim ex officina Pynsoniana editum, nunc ab integro, commentariolis subjectis, ad Fidem codicum recensuit Albertus Way, A. M. (1440))

(10) Small, wading bird.

(11) This might be a joke. "A Dictionary of Archaic & Provincial Words, Obsolete Phrases, Proverbs & Ancient Customs From the Fourteenth Century" gives this phrase ("tymbre that fyre") as "to supply it with wood. To timber-cart, to go with a team for timber."
(12) A flat-fish similar to a flounder.
(13) A fresh-water fish.
(14) A freshwater fish of the minnow family.
(15) A freshwater fish.

Since I wrote this post, I have been unable to find am online copy of the The Book of Kervynge, until today. I discovered that Wikisource has an online copy of the text, which I will copy parts below.

Fowls

Sauce that capon - Take up a capon & lyfte up the ryght legge and the ryght wynge & so araye hy forth & laye hy in the plater as he sholde flee & serve your soverayne & know well that capons or chekyns ben arayed after one save the chekyns shall be sauced with grene sauce or bergyus.

Lyfte that Swanne. - Take and dyghte hym as a goose but let hym have a largyour brawne & loke ye have chawdron.

Alaye that fesande. - Take a fesande and seyse his legges & his wynges as it were an henne & no sauce but onely salte.

Wynge that partryche. - Take a partryche and reyse his legges and his wynges as a henne & mynce hym sauce hym with wyne poudre of gynger & salte than set it upon a chaufyng dysshe of coles to warme and serve it.

Wynge that quayle. - Take a quale and reyse his legges and his winges as an henne and no sauce but salte.

Dysplaye that crane. - Take a crane and unfolde his legges and cut of his wynges by the Joyntes, than take up his wynges and his legges & sauce him with powders of gynger mustard vynegre and salte.

Dysmembre that heron - Take an heron and reyse his legges and his wynges as a crane and sauce hym with vynegre mustarde poudre of gynger and salte.

Unjoynte that bytture - Take a bytture & seyse his legges & his wynges as an heron and no sauce but salte only.

Breke that egryt. - Take an egryt and reyse his legges and his wynges as an heron and no sauce but salte

Untache that curlewe. - Take a curlewe and reyse his legges and his wynges as an henne and no sauce but salte.

Untache that brewe. - Take a brewe and reyse his legges and his wynges in the same maner and no sauce but onely salte & serve your soverayne.

Unlace that cony. - 
Take a cony and laye hym on the backe & cut awaye the ventes, than reyse the wynges and the sydes and laye bulke chyne and the sydes together sauce vynegre and poudre of gynger.

Breke that Sarsell. - Take a sarsell or a teele and reyse his wynges and his legges and no sauce but sale onely.

Mynce that plover. - Take a plover and reyse his legges and his wynges as an henne and no sauce but onely salte

A snyte. - Take a snyte and reyse his wynges his legges and his sholders as a plover and no sauce but salte.

Thye that woodcocke - Take a woodecocke & reyse his legges and his wynges as an henne this done thyght the drayne. And here begynneth the feest from Pentecost unto mydsomer.

The kerver of fysshe must se to pessene and foutmentye the tayle and the lyver ye must loke yf there be a salte purpos or sele turrentyne & do after the fourme of venyson, baken herynge laye it hole upon your soveraynes trenchour, whyte herynge in a dysshe open it by the backe pyke out the bones & the rowe & se there be mustarde. If salte fysshe greme fysshe salte samon & congre pare awaye the skyn, salte fysshe stocke fysshe marlynge makrell and bake with butter take awaye the bones & skynnes. & Pyke laye the wombe upon his trenchour with pyke sauce ynoughe. & salte lampraye gobone it flatte in. vii or viiii peces & laye it to your soverayne. & playce put out the water, than crosse hym with your knyfe cast on salte & wyne or al.e. Gornarde rochet breme chevene base molet roche perche sole makrell & whytynge haddocke and codlynge reyse theym by the backe & pyke out the bones & clense the refet in the belly. Carpe breme sole & troute backe & belly together. Samon congre sturgyon turbot thorpole torbake hounde fysshe & halybut cut them in the dysshe as the porpas abouthe, tenche in his sayce cut it eles & lamprayes roost pull of the synne pyke out the bones thereto vynegre and soudre. & crabbe breke hym in sonder in to the dysshe make the shelle clene & put in the stuffe agayne tempre it with vynegre & pouder than cover it with brede and sende it to the kytcheyn to hete, than set it to your soverayne and breke the grete clawes and laye them in a dysshe. & creves drght hym thys departe hym a sonder & slytte the belly and take out the fysshe pare away the reed skynne and mynce it thynne put vynegre in the dysshe and set it on the table without hete. & Jol of of sturgyon cut it in the thynne morselles & laye it roude aboute the dysshe. Fresshe lamprayne bake open the sasty, than take whyte brede and cut it thynne & laye it in a dysshe & with a spone take out galentyne & laye it upon the brede with reed wyne & pouder of synamon, than cut a gobone fo the lamraye & mynce the gobone thynne and laye it in the galentyne than set it upon the fyre to hete. Fresshe herynge with salte & wyne, shrympes well pyked flouders gogyons menewes & muscles eles and lamprayes sprottes is good in sewe, musculade in wortes, oysters in ceuy oysters in gravy menewes & porpas samon & seele gelly whyte and reed cremem and almondes dates in comfetes peres in quinces in syrupe with percely rotes mortrus of houndes fysshe ryse standynge.

===================

Robert May, in his 1685 "The Accomplisht Cook" also quotes from "The Book of Kervynge". His translation of the text is as follows (it appears that he did more than just copy the text; he expanded on the procedure. 

The most Exact, or A-la-mode Ways of Carving and Sewing.

Terms of Carving.

Break that deer, leach that brawn, rear that goose, lift that swan, sauce that capon, spoil that hen, frust that chicken, unbrace that mallard, unlace that coney, dismember that hern, display that crane, disfigure that peacock, unjoynt that bittern, untach that curlew, allay that pheasant, wing that partridge, wing that quail, mince that plover, thigh that pidgeon, border that pasty, thigh that woodcock; thigh all manner of small birds.

Timber the fire, tire that egg, chine that salmon, string that lamprey, splat that pike, souce that plaice, sauce that tench, splay that bream, side that haddock, tusk that barbel, culpon that trout, fin that chivin, transon that eel, tranch that sturgeon, undertranch that porpus, tame that crab, barb that lobster.

Directions for the order of carving Fowl.

Lift that Swan.

The manner of cutting up a Swan must be to slit her right down in the middle of the breast, and so clean thorow the back from the neck to the rump, so part her in two halves cleanly and handsomly, that you break not nor tear the meat, lay the two halves in a fair charger with the slit sides downwards, throw salt about it, and let it again on the Table. Let your sauce be chaldron for a Swan, and serve it in saucers.

Rear the Goose.

You must break a goose contrary to the former way. Take a goose being roasted, and take off both his legs fair like a shoulder of Lamb, take him quite from the body then cut off the belly piece round close to the lower end of the breast: lace her down with your knife clean through the breast on each side your thumbs bredth for the bone in the middle of the breast; then take off the pinion of each side, and the flesh which you first lac’t with your knife, raise it up clear from the bone, and take it from the carcase with the pinion; then cut up the bone which lieth before in the breast (which is commonly call’d the merry thought) the skin and the flesh being upon it; then cut from the brest-bone, another slice of flesh clean thorow, & take it clean from the bone, turn your carcase, and cut it asunder the back-bone above the loin-bones: then take the rump-end of the back-bone, and lay it in a fair dish with the skinny-side upwards, lay at the fore-end of that the merry-thought with the skin side upward, and before that the apron of the goose; then lay your pinions on each side contrary, set your legs on each side contrary behind them, that the bone end of the legs may stand up cross in the middle of the dish, & the wing pinions on the outside of them; put under the wing pinions on each side the long slices of flesh which you cut from the breast bone, and let the ends meet under the leg bones, let the other ends lie cut in the dish betwixt the leg and the pinion; then pour your sauce into the dish under your meat, throw on salt, and set it on the table.

To cut up a Turkey or Bustard.

Raise up the leg very fair, and open the joynt with the point of your knife, but take not off the leg; then lace down the breast with your knife on both sides, & open the breast pinion with the knife, but take not the pinion off; then raise up the merry-thought betwixt the breast bone, and the top of the merry-thought, lace down the flesh on both sides of the breast-bone, and raise up the flesh called the brawn, turn it outward upon both sides, but break it not, nor cut it not off; then cut off the wing pinion at the joynt next to the body, and stick on each side the pinion in the place where ye turned out the brawn, but cut off the sharp end of the Pinion, take the middle piece, and that will just fit the place.

You may cut up a capon or pheasant the same way, but of your capon cut not off the pinion, but in the place where you put the pinion of the turkey, you must put the gizard of your capon on each side half.

Dismember that Hern.

Take off both the legs, and lace it down to the breast with your knife on both sides, raise up the flesh, and take it clean off with the pinion; then stick the head in the breast, set the pinion on the contrary side of the carcase, and the leg on the other side, so that the bones ends may meet cross over the carcase, and the other wings cross over upon the top of the carcase.

Unbrace that Mallard.

Raise up the pinion and the leg, but take them not off, raise the merry-thought from the breast, and lace it down on each side of the breast with your knife, bending to and fro like ways.

Unlace that Coney.

Turn the back downwards, & cut the belly flaps clean off from the kidney, but take heed you cut not the kidney nor the flesh, then put in the point of your knife between the kidneys, and loosen the flesh from each side the bone then turn up the back of the rabbit, and cut it cross between the wings, and lace it down close by the bone with your knife on both sides, then open the flesh of the rabbit from the bone, with the point of your knife against the kidney, and pull the leg open softly with your hand, but pluck it not off, then thrust in your knife betwixt the ribs and the kidney, slit it out, and lay the legs close together.

Sauce that Capon.

Lift up the right leg and wing, and so array forth, and lay him in the platter as he should fly, and so serve him. Know that capons or chickens be arrayed after one sauce; the chickens shall be sauced with green sauce or veriuyce.

Allay that Pheasant.

Take a pheasant, raise his legs and wings as it were a hen and no sauce but only salt.

Wing that Partridg.

Raise his legs, and his wing as a hen, if you mince him sauce him with wine, powder of ginger, and salt, and set him upon a chafing dish of coals to warm and serve.

Wing that Quail.

Take a quail and raise his legs and his wings as an hen, and no sauce but salt.

Display that Crane.

Unfold his Legs, and cut off his wings by the joynts, then take up his wings and his legs, and sauce them with powder of ginger, mustard, vinegar, and salt.

Dismember that Hern.

Raise his legs and his wings as a crane, and sauce him with vinegar, mustard, powder of ginger and salt.

Unjoynt that Bittern.

Raise his legs & wings as a heron & no sauce but salt.

Break that Egript.

Take an egript, and raise his legs and his wings as a heron, and no sauce but salt.

Untach that Curlew.

Raise his legs and wings as a hen, & no sauce but salt.

Untach that brew. 

Raise his legs and his wings in the same manner, and no sauce but only salt.

Unlace that Coney.

Lay him on the back, and cut away the vents, then raise the wings and the sides, and lay bulk, chine, and sides together, sauce them with vinegar and powder of ginger.

Break that Sarcel.

Take a sarcel or teal, and raise his wings and his legs, and no sauce but only salt.

Mince that Plover.

Raise his leg and wings as a hen, and no sauce but only salt.

A Snite.

Raise his legs, wings and his shoulders as a plover, and no sauce but salt.

Thigh that Woodcock.

Raise his legs as a hen, and dight his brain.

The Carving of Fish.

The carver of fish must see to peason and furmety, the tail and the liver; you must look if there be a salt porpos or sole, turrentine, and do after the form of venison; baked herring, lay it whole on the trencher, then white herring in a dish, open it by the back, pick out the bones and the row, and see there be mustard. Of salt fish, green-fish, salt salmon, and conger, pare away the skin; salt fish, stock fish, marling, mackrel, and hake with butter, and take away the bones & skins; A Pike, lay the womb upon a trencher, with pike sauce enough, A salt Lamprey, gobbin it in seven or eight pieces, and so present it, A Plaice, put out the water, then cross him with your knife, and cast on salt, wine, or ale. Bace, Gurnet, Rochet, Bream, Chevin, Mullet, Roch, Pearch, Sole, Mackrel, Whiting, Haddock, and Codling, raise them by the back, pick out the bones, and cleanse the rest in the belly. Carp Bream, Sole, and Trout, back and belly together. Salmon, Conger, Sturgeon, Turbut, Thornback, Houndfish, and Holibut, cut them in the dishes; the Porpos about, Tench in his sauce; cut two Eels, and Lampreys roast, pull off the skin, and pick out the bones, put thereto vinegar, and powder. A Crab, break him asunder, in a dish make the shell clean, & put in the stuff again, temper it with vinegar, and powder them, cover it with bread and heat it; a Crevis dight him thus, part him asunder, slit the belly, and take out the fish, pare away the red skin, mince it thin, put vinegar in the dish, and set it on the Table without heating. A Jole of Sturgeon, cut it into thin morsels, and lay it round about the dish, Fresh Lamprey bak’d, open the pasty, then take white bread, and cut it thin, lay it in a dish, & with a spoon take out Galentine, & lay it upon the bread with red wine and powder of Cinamon; then cut a gobbin of Lamprey, mince it thin, and lay it in the Gallentine, and set it on the fire to heat. Fresh herring, with salt and wine, Shrimps well pickled, Flounders, Gudgeons, Minews, and Muskles, Eels, and Lampreys, Sprats is good in few, musculade in worts, oysters in few, oysters in gravy, minews in porpus, salmon in jelly white and red, cream of almonds, dates in comfits, pears and quinces in sirrup, with parsley roots, mortus of hound fish raise standing.

============================

Contributors to Wikimedia projects. “The Book of Kervynge.” Wikipedia, 3 July 2022, https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Book_of_Kervynge.

May, Robert, and W. W. "The Accomplisht Cook, Or, The Art & Mystery of Cookery: Wherein the Whole Art Is Revealed in a More Easie and Perfect Method, Than Hath Been Publisht in Any Language. Expert and Ready Ways for the Dressing of All Sorts of Flesh, Fowl, and Fish, with Variety of Sauces Proper for Each of Them; and How to Raise All Manner of Pastes; the Best Directions for All Sorts of Kickshaws, Also the Terms of Carving and Sewing. An Exact Account of All Dishes for All Seasons of the Year, with Other À-La-Mode Curiosities." 1685.
https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/22790 pages b2-6

"Promptorium parvulorum sive clericorum, dictionarius anglo-latinus princeps, auctore fratre Galfrido grammatico dicto, ex ordine fratrum Predicatorum, northfolciensi, circa A. D. M.CCCC.XL. Olim ex officina Pynsoniana editum, nunc ab integro, commentariolis subjectis, ad Fidem codicum recensuit Albertus Way, A. M." In the digital collection Corpus of Middle English Prose and Verse. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/CME00028. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 23, 2025.

 Scroll Text - Duncan MacAngus of Skye - Golden Alce 2013

Kingdom of AEthelmearc - Martial Award

Come forth good gentles of the Land and know the will of your Sylvan Sovereigns. Where as anciently from the beginning, the valiant and virtuous acts of worthy persons have been commended to the world with sundry monuments and remembrances of their good skills. Duncan MacAngus of Skye has done commendable deeds of arms on the battle field and has been a leader through good example, and has been seen in the semi-finals of the Tournament of Chivalry at Agincourt. It is only fitting that We should recognize his efforts and welcome him into Our Order of the Golden Alce that all may know of his worth. So say We Murdoch and Rioghnach, on this fine day of May, at AEthelmearc War Practice, three score years after the founding of The Dream.

Based on an English Patent of Arms to an Individual, 1576

Gilding Made Easy

By Master Caleb Reynolds

Published on the AEGazette, 4/1/2019


Nothing says “medieval manuscript” quite like the gleam of gold shining on the page. Gilding is the high wire act of the scribe’s art, the skill that can boost a scroll from “not bad” to “wow!”

Gilding can be an intimidating skill, and all too many scribes give up after a few hesitant experiments. Gilding is not as difficult as it first appears, and the results are well worth the effort. This article is the result of several minutes worth of experimentation with gilding; it’s so easy anyone can do it.

Step 1: Make your design. For this example I will be using a simple design: just some dude in a ‘T’. Pencil in the design, ink over the pencil marks, and then erase the pencil marks. I find that the end result looks better.

Step 2: Mask off everywhere on the image that you don’t want gilded.

Take your time to make sure that you cover everything. And use good painter’s tape. Cheap tape will only disappoint. Use multiple layers as needed. A good X-ACTO knife will help you trim the tape to fit the curves and oddball shapes on your image. You might want to start off with straight lines and borders until you get the hang of it.

Step 3: Shake up your can of gold spray paint. I prefer Rust-Oleum to Krylon. I think that the Rust-Oleum gold is shinier and doesn’t require a primer. And since you don’t have to put down a primer coat, you save time.

Hold the can a couple of inches away from the paper and spray in short bursts. By spraying close to the paper, you can make sure that the paint doesn’t touch the area around your mask. And using short sprays you make sure that you don’t over saturate the paper. Use quick sprays until you cover all of the desired parts. Once you have covered all of the area, let the paint dry overnight. This is important. You don’t want to skip this step. If the paint isn’t dry, you can smudge it when you remove the tape.

Step 4: Time to remove the tape. You can see how shiny the paint is. Krylon doesn’t look this good. Now, carefully peel up the tape. You might need an X-ACTO knife to get underneath the tape. Work slowly and peel away from the gold paint. Again, work slowly. You don’t want all of your work to go to waste. Don’t try to save the tape. It’s given all that it can give. Some of you might be thinking that you can re-use your mask on another sheet of paper and save you some time, if you want to make two copies of the same scroll. It really isn’t worth the time and effort: the tape is covered in paint and will curl up on itself. Painter’s tape isn’t that expensive.

Once you have all of the tape removed, you can sit back and admire how nice your gilding is. And you didn’t have to mess around with gold leaf and gesso. Don’t be overly concerned with not having a perfect mask. If some gold paint bled through the edges of the tape, don’t sweat it: just paint over the errant gold and no one will notice the difference.

With only a small amount of practice, you should be able to lay gold quickly and easily. I find this method works best for me, but please, experiment and practice for yourself. You may well find a better brand of spray paint that works better for you, and you should always strive for better results and greater accuracy. Whichever way, gilding will enhance the look of your work immensely, and make the scrolls you create treasures indeed.

London Destroyed by Kaiju

Published on the AEGazette, 4/1/2022

Fake Research: Real Writing
by Caleb Reynolds

We are taught that London burned down in 1667 because of a fire that started in a bakery on Pudding Lane. When the fire was brought under control, four days later, more than four-fifths of the city was destroyed. Miraculously, only 16 people were known to have died. Was this due to advanced fire-fighting technology or was this because the fire was actually planned to destroy a kaiju? A “dragon”, if you will. Granted, the people of 17th century London would not have used the word “kaiju” as Godzilla movies did not appear in England until the mid 1950s. The natives would have used such language as was familiar to them. And since Jacobean English had few Japanese words mixed in with it, they would have turned to their own legends and used the word “dragon” to describe the giant beasts that roamed the country.

In 1217, there was a beast of a sea monster that prowled the Thames river; some references referred to it at 300 stone in size. The poem “The Dragon of Wantley”, first published in 1685, recounts an legendary monster that ravaged the land in the mid 15th-century.

All sorts of cattle this dragon did eat.
Some say he ate up trees,
And that the forests sure he would
Devour up by degrees:
For houses and churches were
to him geese and chickens
He ate all, and left none behind,
but some stones, dear Jack,
that he could not crack,
Which on the hills you will find. [1]

Geoffrey Of Cambria’s 1455 “The History of Britain” recounts what might have been the same monster.

Then a great dragon began to ravage the country-side with fire and alone did a single knight take arms against it, and in the end, was the victor. All night long did the raging flames swept o’er the land and the water, and all withered and burned at it’s touch. The dragon had burned up the people’s homes and fields. The city did burn as likewise did the ships and the water-skirted land was devastated. Not ‘til the touch of dawn did the dragon end it’s destruction and retreat to its lair. Great faith did it have in the safety of its hiding place, but it’s faith was to be futile.

While stories of giant dragons continued to be written, in England, after the Great Fire, [2] no credible accounts of dragons were recorded. I feel that the last of the great, English kaijus was killed in London, in 1667. While there are many conspiracy theories that have survived even to this day, (Freemasons started the fire to create more work for themselves; French and Dutch agents started it to punish the English for their pie eating habits; Charles II started it as revenge for London’s support of Parliament during the Civil War; Robert Hubert claimed to start the fire in Westminster but it got out of hand when the wind shifted.) [3]




The 200 foot tall monument to the fire might be a clue as to the size of the kaiju that attacked the city. It is possible that the kaiju was lured to the city to destroy it, hence the few fatalities recorded, as the population was told “to remove themselves and Goods into the open fields” [4] for their own safety. “The London Gazette” recounts the fight against the monster with chilling words:

…pulling down houses…”, “Too big to be mastered by any Engines or working near it.” “About the Tower the seasonable orders given …to secure the Magazines of Powder.” “…but all in vain, the [monster] seizing upon the Timber and Rubbish and so continuing it self, even through those spaces, and raging in a bright flame all Monday and Tuesday, notwithstanding His Majesties own, and His Royal Highness’s indefatigable and personal pains to apply all possible remedies to prevent it.

Finally, the monster was defeated. Again, from “The London Gazette”:

…by the falling … upon a Pile of Wooden buildings; but his Royal Highness, who watched there that whole night in Person, by the great labors and diligent [used], and especially by applying Powder to blow up the Houses about it, before day most happily it [stopped].” “On Thursday by the blessing of God it was wholly beat down and extinguished.

London was destroyed, but its citizens lived and the last of the great English kaijus was dead.

Footnotes

[1] “The Dragon of Wantley”, quoted from Thomas Percy’s “Reliques of Ancient Poetry”

[2] Even an opera was written in the 18th-century.

[3] These are all actual conspiracy theories about the fire.

[4] “The London Gazette”

References

Æthel, Aunt. “Models of Dragons Are Not To Scale.” Aunt Æthel’s Big Blog of Baloney. Created on February 31st, 1987.

Anonymous. The Dragon of Wantley, quoted in Thomas Percy’s Reliques of Ancient Poetry (17th Century)

Anonymous. “The London Worm?” Punch Magazine. Unknown Volume. 1891.

Bell, Walter. The Great Fire of London in 1666. New York Bodley Head. 1923.

Jones, Terry, and Alan Ereira. Terry Jones’ Medieval Lives. London: BBC, 2004.

Mortimer, Ian. The Time Traveler’s Guide to Elizabethan England. New York: Penguin Books, 2013.

Moxon, Steve. The Dragon of Wantley. Creative Commons, May 2013

Shorpe, L. Geoffrey of Cambria’s The History of Britain. London: Penguin Books Ltd. 1981

“The London Gazette – Fire of London” The London Gazette. Published by Authority From Monday September 3 to Monday September 10 1666. British Library. Timelines: Sources from History.

Ask Another Laurel - What is a Mark?

by Caleb Reynolds

The following was written for the AEthelmearc Gazette

I'm still working on part two of the how not to be noticed series, but I keep getting distracted: orange omelets; certifications for work; medieval riding horses; cleaning the house; car repairs; Roman dodecahedrons. Part 2 is being written but I needed a mental pallet cleanser. I will keep this short.

So, I was doing some research and kept coming across a Mark as a unit of currency. I kept finding references such as "A 1265 French ordinance ruled that a squire could not spend more than twenty Marks on a rouncey", or "The Bohemian King Wenzel II rode a horse valued at one thousand Marks in 1298", or "[London] servants and artisans were not allowed to buy cloth costing more than 2 marks a length". But, what is a Mark? Why did France, England and Bohemia use the same currency?

The short answer is that they didn't. Kingdoms used a Mark to do monetary transactions. A medieval Mark, unlike the pre-Euro German Mark, wasn't a coin, but an international unit of accounting that was the equivalent of 160 Pennies (ish). This allowed people to easily convert money from one currency to another, since most European kingdoms used a similar form of currency derived from ancient Rome: Denarius (Penny, Pence, Pfennig, Denier), Sesterius or Solidos (Shilling, Sous, Groschen, Quentchen), and Libra (Pound, Pfund, Livre, Gilder, Taler). All rabbit holes lead to Rome. See, one Imperial Roman pound of silver was minted into 240 silver coins called denarius or denarii.

Each currency followed similar rules, although the actual numbers changed over time: 12 pennies to the next biggest coin, 20 of those to the next step up. On paper, 240 pennies would weigh one pound-weight of silver and the Pound, Livre, etc, would be the equivalent value of a pound-weight of silver: an ancient Roman pound-weight, which is less than a modern pound-weight (329g vs 454g). A Mark (from the Latin "Marca") was 160 silver pennies (ish) from anyplace, or 2/3 of a pound-weight of silver, ancient Roman pound-weight, of course. Or 8 troy ounces; about 250g. This dates back to the time of Charlemagne's father, Pepin the Short. I have been unable to find out why this arbitrary weight was used. I couldn't find anything obvious, like the annual salary of a Roman soldier or the cost of a plow horse. There probably was a logical reason for the 2/3rd of a pound-weight, but I have been unable to discover it.

I can't imagine that Pepin was brain storming about what weight they should use to make international commerce easier and instead of using a full pound-weight, he picked up a 12" Philly cheesesteak and said, "Yes, this cheesesteak is the right weight for these new Marks." And, of course, since he was the king, they had to go with the cheesesteak's weight, much to the disappointment of team-double-order-of-Buffalo-wings. The only "logical" explanation I could find, while searching academic sources, was that a Libra (Pound, Pfund, Livre, Gilder, Taler) was 12 troy ounces of silver and a Mark was 8 troy ounces of silver. You will notice that while this is technically correct, it doesn't answer our question as to why.

Seriously, I can't think of any logical reason why. Everyone already agreed to use the 12 troy ounces as the weight of 240 silver pennies (more or less), so the Pound, Pfund, Livre, Gilder, and Taler would represent the same mass of silver. I don't know why everyone didn't just use that as the inter-kingdom standard. Why 2/3rd of a pound? How is 13s 4d an easier number to deal with than 20s. Both 160 and 240 are divisible by 10, 8, and 4, but 240 is also divisible by 12. I've been racking my brain as to what logical reason why a Mark was such an arbitrary weight. It's about the weight of two adult hamsters, or ten 'AA' batteries, or an empty heart of a child. Or a medium sized russet potato. Or a small, paper-back book. Or, as Google AI tells me, a handful of coins (I hate AI because of answers like that). Maybe Pepin just hated exchequers.

Robert Tye's "Coin Weight and Historical Metrology (Third Revision, 2022)" gives the following explanation: "The simplest and most readily available measure of volume available to mankind, at least for a stuff like grain, is using a kind of cup made up of the two hands, when used to scoop up a small heap. My own trials of this with modern wheat grain suggest this amount of grain weighs about 250g. In addition, many authors have estimate the average human daily bread ration at about 500g, thus approximately double that amount. These two physical measure arise out of the basic facts of human beings themselves, and might well be connected to the prominence of 500g and 250g standards in Europe, Persia, and China, as will be accounted below." [p116]

This is an interesting idea, but the 2/3rd of a Roman pound-weight was never, as far as I can tell, used to measure out grain or bread; only silver. Most set pricing for bread mentions a full pound of bread to be sold a certain amount. Criminal charges were handed out to bakers who sold bread under a full pound; the whole concept of the baker's dozen was a way of making sure that a dozen small rolls weighed a combined 1 pound, with an extra roll thrown in to make up for any undersized rolls. Philip Grierson, in "Money and Coinage under Charlemagne" theorized that there were two different Carolingian pounds, a heavy one of 16 troy ounces and a light one made up of 15 troy ounces, which might have had something to do with the difference between a Roman pound and an Arabic pound. Or it might have had something related to internal and external commerce. Tye went on in his paper to write, "...but with a general lack of consistency in the coins and apparently no weights or texts to corroborate anything, we are left somewhat whistling in the dark." [p143] We might never know the real reason.

Unfortunately, despite the general agreement about the theoretical weight of the penny, the number Pennies to a Mark varied, based on the time and place, being 144 in some parts of Germany and 160 in others, 160 in Britain, Scotland, Ireland, Flanders and France, and between 160 and 384 in Scandinavia, probably due to the physical size of coins minted in various places. Several sources I found list the weight of a Mark in Gotland as 200g, whereas in Pomerania the Mark was just under 250g. Spain had a complicated history of coinage in the Middle Ages due to the various Islamic and Christian kingdoms that were rivals and what was done after the unification of Spain under Ferdinand and Isabella. And don't get me started on what the Italians were doing. But, for the purposes of this short article, let us just agree that a Mark was 160 silver pennies and move on.

The purpose of the Mark was to make commerce easier, particularly between kingdoms. If you owed someone 1 Mark, you could either count out 160 pence, or the local equivalent, or you could hand over 2/3rd of a Roman pound-weight of silver, about 250g, as mentioned above. As long as the weight of silver was sufficient, that was what was used to pay your debt. Coins, ingots, serving plates, cutlery, rings; the weight of silver was all that mattered. If you owed 100 Marks, you would need to turn over 25kg of silver as collecting and transporting 16,000 pennies would be more of a challenge. Richard the Lionheart's ransom was set at 150,000 Marks, which was 32,900kg of silver. No fiddling about with converting English Pounds to Austrian Talers, the English just had to fork over almost 33 metric tonnes of silver. The huge amount of silver was split between The Holy Roman Emperor, Heinrich VI and the Duke of Austria, Leopold V. The Austrians used the silver to improve the walls of several cities and to establish the Austrian mint. What the Emperor used his share for is a subject for another article.

Marks weren't used for small debts; if you owed someone 50 Pennies, you paid in coins. Either 50 silver pennies, or, 4 Shilling coins and 2 Pence. Pound coins, and their equivalent, were used for medium sized payments within one kingdom. Because of the difference in weight between various coinage, an exchequer or a money changer could figure out the the relative value between coinage which could be various sizes and weights, particularly in port cities where sailors and merchants could have money from almost anywhere in their pockets. The exchequer did this using an exchequer, which is defined as a calculation board used by an exchequer. This is like how a casserole is any dish that is baked and served in a casserole dish. Writing about how to use an exchequer is already on my to do list, but if anyone in the Kingdom's Coiner's Guild wishes to write about it, I would be happy to share the spot light.

Buying a cheap horse from a local seller was normally done with coins, but buying a expensive horse from the other side of Europe was normally done with Marks, or with letters of credit that could be redeemed for a named weight of silver. Marks continued to be used for international accounting until the early 16th Century when new coinage were created for high denominations, minted in gold. But, that will be a more complicated deep dive because everyone kind of went nuts with making new coins. Gold became more common, in Europe, as the new world was looted of everything shiny. The Spanish and Portuguese crowns were using that gold to buy influence across Europe, and gold coins can always be melted down and re-minted.

I hope this helps puts things into perspective when you do your research and come across prices in Marks. Now, back to researching sumptuary laws.

Jochem Becker and Pretzles

I pulled this from some notes and a FB post I made on 6/10/24. I'm posting this here so that it will be more visible.

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I'm putting together class notes for my pretzel rant and I found another BS source. I have found the following line from multiple sources: "there is a story that in 1652 a settler named Jochem Becker was arrested for using good flour to make pretzels to sell to the Indians at a time when his white neighbors were eating bran flour."

I found the court records regarding Jochem and it is a perfect example of sloppy research. Jochem was a baker in 17th century Beverwyck, which is near modern day Albany, NY. He was in court in 1652. And 1653. And 1654. But it does not appear that he had anything to do with pretzels. No. He was called into court multiple times as both a witness for allegations against other people and for himself being rude, insulting, violent, as well as a cheat: He owned numerous people money or goods, and there is even a record that he tried to take possession of someone else's house.

 
What does this have to do with pretzels? Well, on the same court records we find:
Ordinary Session, Tuesday, March 4, 1653
A petition was read from the respective bakers in Beverwyck, requesting mitigation of the ordinance concerning the baking of white bread, pretzel and cookies to be sold to the Indians. Resolved to refer the petitioners to the ordinance

And then, later in the record:
Delivered this day to the honorable gentlemen and signed by all members of this court. After some verbal questions had been asked of their honors, orders were given to put them into writing and to deliver [the petition] to their honors, which was done, the contents or tenor being as follows:
To the Hon. Director General Peter Stuyvesant and the Hon. Nicasius Sille
Upon the complaint of the burghers here, the petitioners find and have daily experienced that the bakers do not act in good faith in the matter of baking bread for the burghers, but bolt the flour from the meal and sell it greatly to their profit to the savages for the baking of sweet cake, whit bread, cookies and pretzels, so that the burghers must buy and get largely bran for their money, and even then the bread is frequently found to be short of weight, and they ask one guilders, yes, as much as 24 stivers for such poor and short-weight baked bread. Which the petitioners in the interest of this community have thought it necessary to bring to your honors' attention, in order that in the future your honors may provide herein as you shall see fit, in the interest of the community here and escpeially of the plain and common people, who can not bake themselves, so that if this continues the Christians must eat the bran while the savages eat the flour; [praying therefore] that a proper weight and a price for the sale of proper bread may be set
Your honors obedient and faithful servants, the magistrates of the court of Fort Orange and Beverwyck. Fort Orange, this 17th of March 1654

What does this have to do with Jochem Becker? Well, the next court entry reads:
Tuesday, March 31, 1654
Commissary Dyckman, plaintiff, against Jochem Becker and Jacob Willemsz de Wolff, defendants, on account of assault and battery by Jochem Becker upon Jacob Willemsz de Wolff at his house on the last of February preceding.

The court having heard the statements of both sides and also examined the evidence, it is resolved to condemn Jochem Becker to pay a fine of thirty guilders to the officer here within the space of forty-eight hours, on pain of execution and to order the aforesaid Becker, as it done hereby, to leave his neighbor, the aforesaid Jacob Willemsz, and all others henceforth unmoloested and in peace, on pain of arbitrary correction.

The next item (5/5/1654)was that Jochem shot someone's dog.

 
Holy crap. How can one poorly presented piece of information can miss the mark so bad? Why even mention Jochem at all? The quote could just have been about the court record of the bakers of Fort Orange and Beverwyck. Why even mention Jochem Becker who appeared to be a douche-canoe. His name shows up about 40 times in a ten year period. If you want to mention pretzels in colonial America, great, use this source, but don't bring Jochem into it unless you want to pour through years of criminal behavior.... It's a wonder how he got any baking done