#lollardy

[une-sanz-pluis]

The Prince himself had, at the very least, allowed his own name to head the request for measures against Lollardy in 1406; yet a hostile or uneasy observer might find circumstantial reasons for wondering if his commitment to orthodoxy was unshakeably total. It was to the English Border counties, which the Prince had until recently been actively engaged in defending against the Welsh rebels, that the leading religious dissenters had fled in the wake of Archbishop Courtenay's assault on their beliefs; and it was there, in regions far from archiepiscopal surveillance, that they had continued to spread their message. Several of the Border gentry, of whom Sir John Oldcastle was the best-known example, appear to have been at least discreetly sympathetic towards the proscribed opinions, and it was to such subordinates that the Prince had entrusted the defence of the West and the restoration of English dominance in the Principality. There was no hint that his trust in these men was diminished by their unorthodox inclinations, and some suggestion that these did not debar them from becoming his personal friends. In any case, even if it is accepted that the Prince was totally orthodox, it was possible that he might take advantage of Arundel's difficulties at Oxford to serve his own ends.

Peter McNiven, Heresy and Politics in the Reign of Henry IV: The Burning of John Badby (The Boydell Press 1987)

[peacockstalemusicalstorytelling]

(Peacock's Tale folk indie duo)

[jezabelofthenorth]

Lollardy matters to a study of the Reformation, though not because it suggests the terminal weakness of the Church, or the inevitability of any particular direction for future change. Lollardy was a small part of the whole, but it reminds us that the religious landscape of later medieval England was mottled and varied, and that the boundaries between orthodoxy and dissent, though at times vigilantly guarded, were also profoundly permeable. It suggests too how official definitions of tolerable and intolerable religious practice were not unquestioningly accepted, even by those who regarded themselves as conventionally Catholic and orthodox. Furthermore – an instructive straw in the wind – it reveals that the Church’s institutional machinery lacked the capability to impose complete uniformity of belief and practice, even with the apparent backing of the secular authorities.

Heretics and Believers: A history of the English Reformation, Peter Marshall

[fideidefenswhore]

The situation in England in Henry's last years seems more comparable to the clampdown on Lollardy in 1520-2, during which eleven heretics died in Coventry and the Chilterns. It is also worth remembering that, 1539-47, at least fourteen people were executed for their allegiance to the papacy. Although well-aware of the executions that took place, for most of this period evangelicals were conscious that the full power of the state was not being brought to bear on them. Given the fearsome threats of the 'bloudy statute', remarkably little blood was actually shed.

The Gospels and Henry VIII: Evangelicals in the Early English Reformation (Ryrie, Alec)

[boredkaiju]

This is really cool, lovely work!!!! Now... *Puts on the history hat* Buckle in folks you're about to learn about medieval art. :) Firstly I share "Ai Vist Lo Lop" (I Saw the Wolf). This is a medieval Occitan song from Southern France. It opens with lines about a wolf, a hare, and a rabbit dancing around a tree. There are several medieval depictions of this, but I'm having trouble finding them; I think what happened is this song has gotten more popular on the internet and lots of modern art has been made of it. Anyway. There is at least ONE authentic medieval tapestry in this video, shown at 1:06; the other two pictures are newer.

(And yes, this song is actually about taxes, lol) Secondly I shall share the story of the Lollards, a theological movement from the 1300's. It was started by John Wycliffe, a priest who shared theological ideas which the Roman Catholic church condemned as heresy; he and his followers were derisively called "Lollards", with the word "Lollardi" likely referring to "mumbling." Lollard preachers were often depicted in tapestries as foxes preaching to geese, the motif meant to show them as dangerous liars leading the vulnerable astray. (Of course I'm not going to pretend to be unbiased. I don't care to start any religious debates but I personally like Wycliffe, so to me these tapestries are kind of just a cool aesthetic. c:) I believe this motif may have been used several times throughout medieval history during several heresies, too, but I'm too lazy to double check that. The Lollard story is the one where I first heard of it, though. Enjoy a small sampling!

Man. I love medieval art. Such a good style.

I thought it would be funny to draw a medieval style inspired fox and so I did it! I added other animals just for fun (and of course one of them had to be a marten, because you all know my weaknesses).

[luciality]

U r my personal... lol... love... hold on gimme a minute. Lo- Lollard?

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lollardy this is me???

[misspeculiar-chroi]

Lollardy

[nem0c]

The tapestry was a statement of the central place of the guild in urban politics and of the symbiotic relationship between the fraternity and the civic rulers in the governance of Coventry. Why might this statement have been necessary? 

There was a cluster of enclosure riots in the late fifteenth century – in 1481, 1489, 1494 and 1495 – several of which were indelibly scored into the collective memory of the city. In the first, the ‘Commons rose’, broke down an enclosure, rang the city’s bell and stole the mayoral sword and mace from the mayor’s house. In the laconic words of one Coventry annalist, in 1489, ‘then the Commons of Coventry rose again’. Internal unrest was such a characteristic feature of Coventry’s political history in this period that in one version of the city’s annals, the exceptional state of civic concord was worthy of comment. Under the entries for two mayoralties, the annalist wrote ‘In his yeare was peace.’

In addition to urban decline and social and political disorder, the civic rulers also confronted the challenge of heresy. There was a Lollard community active in Coventry between the 1480s and 1520s, most of whose members were artisans. Between 1511 and 1512, 64 suspected Lollards from Coventry were brought before the bishop of Coventry and Lichfield and his representatives. This official inquiry followed the prosecution of eight heretics from the Coventry community in 1486. In the light of the close connections between the city’s political elite and the Holy Trinity guild, Lollardy can only have been regarded as a threat to the authority of the city’s magistrates. It was a heretical creed which denied the power of the saints and which therefore rejected many of the practices of the late medieval church. One of the most striking aspects of the charges levelled in 1486 was the repeated accusation that suspected Lollards had attacked the local shrine known as the ‘image of Blessed Mary of the Tower’, which was located in the city wall. The penance imposed by the bishop included a pilgrimage to the shrine, where the recanted heretic was instructed to make an offering. Coventry’s town hall was, of course, dedicated to St Mary. The mayor’s election and inauguration took place on the feast of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The Virgin Mary was also one of the major patronal saints of the Holy Trinity fraternity.

Christian D. Liddy, Urban politics and material culture at the end of the Middle Ages: the Coventry tapestry in St. Mary’s Hall

[rw7771]

Lollardy - Wikipedia

[skeleton-richard]

Since I didn't get to present my paper on Lollardy at the school history conference, which was cancelled due to plague (how appropriate), I'm thinking of maybe doing a video on it. Would anyone be interested in that and maybe send me questions about anything you want to know about Lollardy, Wycliffe, and Transubstantiation (but were afraid to ask)?

Tagging my medieval/medieval adjacent friends @nuingiliath @shredsandpatches @themalhambird @oldshrewsburyian @feuillesmortes @lloerwyn @morgauseoforkney @ardenrosegarden @harry-leroy @princess-of-france @fade-steppin @mediaeval-muse @chaotic-archaeologist @juliacaesaris @maplelantern @sleepinelysium @themummersfolly @stripedroseandsketchpads (apologies to anyone I left out)

[bantarleton]

The Scottish Lollards

Before the Covenanters, before John Knox and the Reformation in Scotland, even before Martin Luther nailed his 95 theses to the door in Wittenberg, there were a group of people in Scotland known as "The Lollards of Kyle".The Lollards of Kyle were followers of John Wycliffe, the Morning Star of the Reformation and they were mainly from Kyle in Ayrshire. Though Wycliffe was English, as were the vast majority of Lollards, there was support for him across Britain and interest on the continental. Like other Lollards, the Lollards of Kyle  sought reform of the Roman Catholic Church and to provide the Bible in the language of their own people, the Scots tongue. 

[une-sanz-pluis]

The most enduring element in the mythology which surrounded the man who has been regarded as the greatest of English kings has been the story of his wild and scandalous behaviour as Prince – behaviour which was banished for ever by a sudden and total reformation when he became king. Historians have speculated for centuries upon whether the 'charges' against the Prince were true; whether they were supported by objective evidence as against popular legend, and whether his known record of public service was compatible with the discreditable tales of debauchery and riotous indiscipline. This traditional approach may be a little naive. There is no serious doubt that anyone, especially a young man as dynamic and enterprising as the Prince, could have found time amidst his official responsibilities to indulge in disreputable or frivolous activities. There is likewise no real doubt that two such diverse facets of personality could be combined in one person. The question which ought to be asked is whether conduct which in itself would surely have been regarded as basically 'normal' in a young prince or lord would have been of sufficient consequence or interest to merit the emergence of a very positive legend; especially as it seems that any dubious pursuits were not allowed to interfere with his public duties and political aspirations. The existence and perseverance of the story is surely evidence not merely of its popular appeal, but of its importance; and it may be reasonable to assume that this importance lay not in the precise nature of the Prince's alleged misconduct, but in his conversion at his accession. Was this momentous conversion really only from sexual indulgence and practical jokes? Or was there something more serious in his years as Prince which the chroniclers wished to emphasise that he had put behind him irrevocably? Had he changed in some profound way which was better recorded for posterity in simple and non-controversial terms? In one sense the Prince did indeed abandon, at his accession, one form of unconventional and questionable behaviour. He put behind him personal and political conduct which had led to charges that he had departed from the standard of honesty, loyalty and duty which were considered proper in the dealings of a son with his father and a subject, however exalted, with his king. His father's death meant that the Prince did not actually have to do anything to change this aspect of his image, and his literary admirers might well have felt a need to express this change in a way which was more creditable to his memory.

Another possibility is more directly relevant to the events of the foregoing narrative. It is fairly common knowledge that the original of the Falstaff character in Shakespeare's Henry IV plays was Sir John Oldcastle, and there is little doubt that there was a tradition linking the Prince with the real Oldcastle in some form of reprehensible conduct. Only the sternest of puritans, however, would have been likely to have censured the carousing of Prince and knight in hostelries in London or on their Welsh border campaigns. There would have been more cause for concern if there had ever been a suggestion that the Prince had shared or sympathised with Oldcastle's Lollard convictions. The fact that the Prince had been associated with Oldcastle at all, given the latter's heretical professions in 1413 and his treason in 1414, might need to be explained away. Association with Oldcastle was not proof of Lollard sentiments; yet there were obviously anti-clerical or Lollard elements in the parliament of 1410 who hoped for the support of the new ministry which was coming into being under the Prince's leadership. If the chroniclers' stories of 'reformation' were inspired by misgivings about the Prince's attitude towards the Church and the heresies of Oldcastle and his allies, it might indeed seem appropriate to date it from the first year of his reign as Henry V, when Oldcastle was called to account for his beliefs and Henry supported his old opponent Archbishop Arundel in condemning the heretical opinions of a man who had once been a loyal servant and personal friend of the Prince. Here, too, can be seen an analogy with Shakespeare's account of Henry V's rejection of Falstaff.' Yet it was surely more than three years earlier that the critical decision was made; when the Prince's initially ambiguous conduct ended in his decision to be personally responsible for committing Badby to the flames. If anyone was looking for the Prince's conversion on a religious issue by 1413, it was not the orthodox, but any remaining optimists among the Lollards.

Peter McNiven, Heresy and Politics in the Reign of Henry IV: The Burning of John Badby (The Boydell Press 1987)

[agistment]

This is a very nice touch on how magic, land and politics overlap in Britain.

[skeleton-richard]

I NEED THIS PLEASSEEEEE

A lot of the humor revolves around Wycliffe being a grouchy old guy who tells his detractors to get bent.

Each episode is named for a verse from the "Wycliffe" Bible.

i need a dramedy series about the lollard movement featuring episodes about::

- wycliffe’s trial in which john of gaunt threatened to yeet a bishop and then had to flee for his life while the bishop pleaded on his knees for the londoners not to murder gaunt

- that time the lollards were like “my god, the clergy is full of sodomites” and the clergy as like “takes one to know one! you’re all sodomites too!” (or vice versa, idr) bonus points for lollard/priest enemies-to-lovers as the main plot.

- archbishop arundel’s attempt to visit oxford university to stamp out heresy where he was not allowed in

- sequel to the above in which arundel complains to his bff the king about not being allowed to visit and the king forces the chancellor of oxford to resign and the university to elect a new chancellor and they re-elect the guy he just made resign

[godrevy]

“And þese comen in þe time of grace, for lasse laboure þat þey doon þan þey diden in þe olde lawe. For al þis labour hangeþ in loue, and loue is þe liȝtest labour þat may.” 

from a sermon in MS Bodley 806, qtd. in Bose, M. and Hornbeck, J.P. (eds.) (2011). Wycliffite Controversies. Turnhout: Brepols Publishers. p. 182.

[mask131]

Demonic hierarchies: The Seven Princes of Hell (updated!)

Given the Helluva Boss finale is upon us and people are yet again going cuckoo for demon hierarchies, I thought I’d make a quick series of explanatory posts about the different demonic hierarchies that were formed through time, for you lazies that don’t want to dig up stuff for themselves :p

 [NOTE THAT ALL HERE IS COVERED WITHIN CHRISTIAN CONTEXT! And this is just a quick over-view, not an in-depths analysis of the theological arguments. ]

 So… let’s start with a simple idea – people tend to know that there are seven typical demons associated with the seven deadly sins. But where does this idea comes from? Well, very simply, from a little piece of text called “The Lanterne of Light”.

The Lanterne of Light was written and printed around 1409-1410. It was not a proper book but rather a religious tract that went around England at the time. It was a Lollard text, and if you don’t know, the Lollard movement (or Lollardy) was a Christian and English religious/intellectual movement that started in the mid-14th century and that criticized the Roman Catholic Church, demanding a whole reform of Catholic Christianity – as a result the Lollardy was seen as a proto-Protestant movement (and they shared similar beliefs and concerns).

Nobody knows exactly who wrote the Lanterne of Light (though John Wycliffe is often accused), but it is in this text that we find for the first time the association of the seven deadly sins with individual demons. Each of those seven demons was supposed to tempt humanity with one of the seven deadly sins. In order you have Lucifer, who is the first in malice among the rulers of Hell, and who patrons all the prideful ones ; second is Belzebub, who rules over the envious ; third is Sathanas, who rules over wrath ; fourth is Abadon, the demon of sloth ; fifth is Mammon who makes men avaricious ; sixth is Belphegor “the god of the gluttonous”, and seventh is Asmodeus who rules over the lecherous. 

This list was influential enough that the English poet John Taylor (one of the most popular poets of the Stuart England) reused it in his works.

   However the list we know and often bring up today is a “modernization” of this initial list – it is the “Binsfeld list” as people remember it. Peter Binsfeld was a bishop and theologian of the 16th century Germany, a fervent anti-Protestant, but also a famous German with hunter (he was behind the Trier witch trials for example). His most popular work was in fact a book about his experience as a witch-hunter and witch-judge: “De confessionibus maleficorum et sagarum”, which could be translated as “Of the confessions of warlock and witches”, or “Treatise on the confessions of evildoers and witches”. In this 1589, Binsfeld mentions a list of demons, which seems strongly inspired by the one from “The Lanterne of Light”, but while The Lanterne had success only in England, Binsfeld’s work was translated in several European languages and became very popular.

Binsfeld claimed that those seven demons that were responsible for the seven deadly sins, patrons of the cardinal vices, were commonly known as the “seven Princes of Hell”, the seven masters of the infernal world. The order was slightly changed and the names were different, but we find back Lucifer as the Prince of Pride and the first of the seven Princes, ruling over the others, Mammon as the Prince of Greed, Asmodeus as the Prince of Lust, Leviathan as the Prince of Envy (instead of Beelzebub), Beelzebub as the Prince of Gluttony (instead of Belphegor), Satan (modernization of the old Sathanas/Sathanus) as the Prince of Wrath and Belphegor as the Prince of Sloth (instead of Abaddon).

   But of course, this is just one of the several hellish hierarchies that were created through the centuries…

EDIT:

A few more informations to add.

# I see a few websites mentionning that the list of the seven Princes of Hell according to Binsfeld can be found in a book called “Classification of Demons”, a follow-up of his “Of the confessions of warlock and witches”. However other sources do not mention this so-called book and rather say the list can be found in the “Of the confessions of warlock and witches”. I do not know which record is true.