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Europe in the Sixteenth Century, by H.G. Koenigsberger and George L. Mosse

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Second paragraph of third chapter:

By the end of the fifteenth century, the towns were almost everywhere governed by an oligarchy, a patriciate of rich merchants and property owners. The composition of these oligarchies varied considerably. In England there were hardly any patrician dynasties: after one or two generations of urban success, patrician families and their property tended to be reabsorbed, by intermarriage and land purchase, into the upper strata of rural society. This is one, though not the only, reason for the relatively small size and restricted autonomy of English provincial towns. As a further consequence, the smaller English boroughs were frequently dominated by one or several great county families, who, from the fifteenth century on, tended more and more to represent the boroughs in parliament. In Hamburg members of the knightly class were not allowed to reside in the city. In Lübeck, by contrast, the patriciate were generally landowners. In Frankfurt a small ring of families monopolized the town council. Most Italian cities had tamed the country nobility of their regions by forcing them to live for at least part of the year in the city; but the cost of urbanizing the feudal nobility was high: it introduced their family feuds into the cities where they became mixed up in the social and faction fights of town politics. Only Venice escaped these feuds; but the Venetian patriciate became the most exclusive ruling class in Europe, looking down even on the oldest nobility of the Venetian mainland who could trace their families back to the Lombards of the seventh century. From 1381 until 1646, the Venetian patriciate admitted no newcomers to its ranks — a unique degree of exclusiveness among the European aristocracies of the time. In the rest of Europe the variations were equally great, from the hidalgo-dominated cities of Castile to the complex of business and aristocratic groups ruling the Netherlands cities, with the banking and mercantile plutocracy of Antwerp as another extreme.

I’ve been digging into the detail of sixteenth-century Irish history so much that I thought it was time to take a step back and think about the wider European context. This is an Open University textbook (probably written to accompany a course) which does what it says on the tin, looking mainly at Western Europe. There is half a chapter on the Ottomans, Russia and the Americas; if Ireland is mentioned, I did not spot it. There are a lot of good set-pieces – Charles V, Henry VIII, the Dutch Revolt, Florence, Luther, Calvin; it was an exciting time in Europe.

I took three main things from it. The first is that the religious situation in the rest of Europe was confused and unsettled for much of the century, so the English flip-flopping between religious regimes in the 1550s and the uncertainty of the Elizabethan settlement has a wider context of which all policy-makers and most international merchants would have been aware. The second is just how marginal Ireland was; the authors go a great deal into the developed economics of the cities, the surrounding countryside and the wider realms, but I suspect that Ireland had never really recovered from the Black Death two centuries before and was only loosely connected to the wider European economy. And the third is that this was an amazing period in the arts and sciences – the authors make the claim that in the sixteenth century, “more of the finest paintings and fresoes of Europe were painted, and in a greater and more contrasting variety of styles, than in any other similar period.” I just had a quick look at Wikipedia; it lists over a thousand Italian painters from the sixteenth century. Europe would never look at itself the same way again.

Anyway, no particular Irish insights but useful context for the day when I get to work on my project. This came to the top of the list of non-fiction recommendations from you guys at the end of last year; next up is Common People: The History of an English Family by Alison Light.

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The Class novels

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Back in January I managed to score signed copes of the three spinoff novels based on the Doctor Who spinoff, Class; and having watched the whole series, I went to the books to maximise my Class experience. (I wonder if there were comics as well? Perhaps Big Finish will do audios in due course.)

Joyride, by Guy Adams

Second paragraph of third chapter:

“Of course it is, The biggest. The best.”

Set between episodes 2 and 3, this is a decent self-contained story of alien tech exploited by nasty humans – the “Joyride” of the title allows people to take over other people’s bodies for a short time, and cause havoc with no consequences to themselves but plenty for their unwilling hosts. Guy Adams wrote a couple of Torchwood books as well (The House That Jack Built and The Men Who Sold The World) which both explored the background of the Torchwood universe in a bit more depth; he doesn’t do that so much here, because the palette of present-day human depravity is background enough. Particularly good for Ram fans.

The Stone House, by A.K. Benedict

Second paragraph of third chapter:

If the rumours are true then kids have visited and gone missing, that others have died. You’d think that’d make it the perfect place for teenagers to dare and date each other but most stay away. Last time Tanya was here, she’d stepped inside the porch and felt so cold and alone that she ran out and didn’t come back. Until now.

A.K. Benedict is a new writer to me, with a couple of novels edging between fantasy and crime, and also a rather fun Torchwood audio, The Victorian Age. This is a straightforward haunted house story, very similar in fact to this year’s Doctor Who episode Knock Knock, though with some good moments from Tanya and some great moments from Miss Quill, and with plotline involving a Syrian refugee, also trapped in the haunted house, for a contemporary feel. It’s set between episodes 3 and 4. All in the present tense for some reason.

What She Does next Will Astound You, by James Goss

Second paragraph of third chapter:

Learning how to make his new leg work? Worth it.

James Goss is one of the most consistently excellent writers in the Whoniverse right now, and he’s pulled it off again here: this is a great book, both thrilling and funny, about social media, fake news, memes, and awful alien invasion from a parallel reality (and perhaps the former producer of the BBC’s Cult TV website has been thinking about these themes for a while). He even manages to make April’s character look interesting (and has some quite good Charlie/Matteusz exchanges). The three books are all pretty decent efforts, but this is the best of them. (Not sure when it is set, but I think also between episodes 3 and 4 is the most likely.)

Alas, there are unlikely to be more of these, but I’m glad we have what we have.

The Humans, by Matt Haig

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Second paragraph of third chapter:

As I walked towards it, I noticed it was some kind of refill station. Cars were parked there, under a horizontal canopy and stationed next to simple-looking fuel-delivery systems. It was confirmed: the cars did absolutely nothing for themselves. They were practically brain dead, if they even had brains.

A novel about an alien who is sent to contemporary Cambridge to wipe out all knowledge of a particular mathematical theorem, and observes the weirdnesses of human society from the viewpoint of an outsider. It didn't really work for me; I found the protagonist a bit too detached, and the afterword to the book which makes clear that it's all Really A Metaphor rather retrospectively spoiled the reading experience for me. Lots of other people seem to have loved the book, but I didn't. (Read in January, only getting around to blogging now.)

This was the most popular book on my unread shelf acquired in 2015. Next up is Etymologican, by Mark Forsyth.

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June Books

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Non-fiction: 9 (YTD 25)
Belgian solutions 1, by David Helbich
The Case for Impeachment, by Allan J. Lichtman
Great Again: How to Fix Our Crippled America, by Donald J. Trump
The Broken Road, by Patrick Leigh Fermor
Patrick Leigh Fermor: An Adventure, by Artemis Cooper
Europe In The Sixteenth Century by H. G. Koenigsberger and George L. Mosse
Walking the Woods and the Water, by Nick Hunt
Sapiens: A Brief History of Humanity, by Yuval Noah Harari
In Xanadu, by William Dalrymple

sf (non-Who): 10 (YTD 50)
The Voyage of the Argo: The Argonautica of Gaius Valerius Flaccus, translated by David R. Slavitt
Warriors ed. George R. R. Martin and Gardner Dozois
Annihilation, by Jeff VanderMeer
Authority, by Jeff VanderMeer
Harry Potter and the Cursed Child by J. K. Rowling
Acceptance, by Jeff VenderMeer
Dune, by Frank Herbert
De piraten van de Zilveren Kattenklauw by "Geronimo Stilton" [Elisabetta Dami]
HWJN by Ibraheem Abbas
A Woman of the Iron People, by Eleanor Arnason

0765320487.01._SX175_SY250_SCLZZZZZZZ_[1].jpg 0007550715.01._SX175_SY250_SCLZZZZZZZ_[1].jpg

Doctor Who, etc: 5 (YTD 18)
Short Trips: Defining Patterns, ed. Ian Farrington
The Infernal Nexus, by Dave Stone
Joyride, by Guy Adams
The Stone House, by A.K. Benedict
What She Does Next Will Astound You, by James Goss

Comics: 3 (YTD 12)
Professor Bell 1: De Mexicaan met twee hoofden by Joann Sfar
Professor Bell 2: De Poppen van Jerusalem by Joann Sfar
Marzi: A memoir, by Marzena Sowa

7,300 pages (YTD 30,400)
6/27 (YTD 38/115) by women (Cooper, Rowling, "Stilton", Arnason, Benedict, Sowa)
1/27 (YTD 13/115) by PoC (Abbas)

Reread: 5 (YTD 7) – In Xanadu, Annihilation, Authority, Acceptance, Dune

Reading now
Watchmen, by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons (a chapter a month)
Lives of Girls and Women, by Alice Munro
Robinson Crusoe, by Daniel Defoe
1688: A Global History, by John E. Wills

Coming soon (perhaps):
New Europe, by Michael Palin
The Angel Maker, by Stefan Brijs
Austerity Britain, 1945-1951 by David Kynaston
Etymologicon, by Mark Forsyth
The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life, by Erving Goffman
Common People: The History of an English Family, by Alison Light
The Help, by Kathryn Stockett
Moon Stallion, by Brian Hayles
QI: The Book of the Dead, by John Lloyd and John Mitchinson
Children are Civilians Too, by Heinrich Böll
Moomin: The Complete Comic Strip by Tove and Lars Jansson
Synners, by Pat Cadigan
The Famished Road, by Ben Okri
The Dancers at the End of Time, by Michael Moorcock
1434: The Year a Chinese Fleet Sailed to Italy and Ignited the Renaissance, by Gavin Menzies
The Past Through Tomorrow, by Robert A. Heinlein
Antarès, Tome 2 by Leo
The Last Castle, by Jack Vance
Thorns, by Robert Silverberg
A Man of Parts, by David Lodge
Alexander the Corrector: The Tormented Genius Whose Cruden's Concordance Unwrote the Bible, by Julia Keay
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, by Roald Dahl
Short Trips: The Quality of Leadership, ed. Keith R. A. DeCandido
Professor Bernice Summerfield and the Glass Prison, by Jacqueline Rayner

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Three Patrick Leigh Fermor books

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The Broken Road, by Patrick Leigh Fermor

Second paragraph of third chapter:

But the redeeming and beautiful line of the mountains sailed across the northern horizon. I pounded towards it, heading for the notch that marked the pass between the Sredna Gora on the west and the Karadja Dagh on the east. Finally, to hoist myself faster out of the plain, I followed a track that led up the side of the Sredna Gora, and, after finishing most of Nadejda's supplies, slept in an abandoned shepherd's lean-to of branches. It was higher and colder than I thought. I woke up to watch the dawn, as I lay luxuriously smoking one of the precious cigarettes. To the north spread a deep green valley about a dozen miles wide, and on the other side of it soared the tall golden brown range of the Great Balkan. A new world! After a drink and a wash at an icy spring trickling into a broken trough hollowed from a tree trunk, bright with green weed and surrounded by an almost fossilized humus of droppings, I struck downhill munching the last of Nadejda's apples. The cloud shadows sliding along the flanks of the Stara Planina were buckled by the scarps and the ravines. I reached the other side by late morning and crossed a river, reduced by the drought to a winding thread of pebbles which carried me to the town of Karlovo.

Ten years ago, I read Patrick Leigh Fermor's two classic books about his teenage walking journey from the Hook of Holland to "Constantinople", and regretted that the final third was unlikely to ever appear. Well, I had missed that in fact the major part of the account has been strung together posthumously, and while it's still a bit raw in places, it's still brilliantly engaging on Bulgaria, Romania and Mount Athos in the early 1930s. Bulgaria in particular gets very good treatment, the young Patrick Leigh Fermor mixing with men and women of his own age and interests, and therefore subject to more emotional involvement than he allowed to show in the two books published in his lifetime. (Nadejda sounds particularly interesting; I wonder what happened to her in the end? And there is a brilliant account of a Romanian brothel.) The one big gap is that he left only short diary notes of his time in Istanbul; it would have been great to have got his insights into the city in transition as it then was. I am particularly recommending this to my Bulgarian friends.

Patrick Leigh Fermor: An Adventure, by Artemis Cooper

Second paragraph of third chapter:

He reached Rotterdam just before dawn, and after an early break-fast strode off through the snow. It fell so thickly that his bare head was soon white with it, but he was in such a state of exalted energy that he did not care. He spent his first night in Dordrecht, some twenty kilometres south of Rotterdam. Having fallen asleep at the table after his supper in a waterfront bar, he was guided upstairs to a little room where he fell asleep under a huge quilt. Payment was accepted for his meal, but none for the lodging: 'This was the first marvellous instance of a kindness and hospitality that was to occur again and again on these travels.'

I really knew Patrick Leigh Fermor only for his teenage odyssey; I had forgotten, if I had ever known, that he was a very well-known travel writer already before A Time of Gifts was published, winning awards for his accounts of the Caribbean and Greece. This all came after an extraordinary incident in the war, immortalised in the film Ill Met By Moonlight, where he mastermninded and carried out, at huge personal risk, the kidnapping of the German general in charge of the occupation of Crete. He swam the Hellespont at the age of 69; a friend of mine of my own age is planning to do this next month to fight slavery – I would not be capable of it.

Cooper is the daughter of John Julius Norwich and grand-daughter of Lady Diana Cooper, who were close friends of Leigh Fermor's, but she maintains a critical distance from her subject – notably, his inability to take orders which meant that he never successfully worked for anyone else (apart from his military career, though even that was constant chafing with authority) and his complex love life, which eventually settled down into a long-term open relationship with Joan Monsell, who he finally married after more than twenty years together. He seems to have been very happy, and generally charming (though there is a horrendous account of a disastrous set of exchanges with Somerset Maugham, in which Leigh Fermor was clearly at fault), and lived doing the things that he loved doing, leaving the world generally a better place for his existence.

Walking the Woods and the Water, by Nick Hunt

Second paragraph of third chapter:

This palace was my first encounter with the German High Baroque, an intimation of the Catholic South. Paddy had slept in this rococo pile as the guest of the resident Bürgermeister, but since then the building had been destroyed by Allied bombs – these scrolling red and yellow walls were a perfect replica, built from plans discovered in the ruins. There was no bed for me here; the place was now a museum. Instead I stayed in a modern apartment with an engineer called Thomas, and my first act was to slip in his bathroom and snap his toilet seat into two perfect halves.

If a thing is worth doing, it's probably worth doing again, and Nick Hunt replicated Patrick Leigh Fermor's 1933-34 walk, as far as possible, in 2011. The world has changed, and the Netherlands, Germany, Austria, Hungary, Bulgaria, Romania and Turkey have all changed too since 1934. The journey changes the writer as well; the pace of walking is of course far different to the more usual speed of travel today, and enables him to engage with the locals in a way that we casual tourists who drop in and out of hotels, pubs and restaurants will never get. Some of it is depressing – the relationship between Hungarians and Romanians is never going to be smooth; war, Communism, industrialisation and ethnic homogenisations have reshaped and destroyed large parts of the landscape that Leigh Fermor knew, particularly the homes of the Hungarian nobles who he visited and made love to. At the same time, crucially, Hunt is travelling across a continent at peace, and unlikely to return to war; where Leigh Fermor caught a moment in time as the old order entered its terminal disintegration, Hunt captures societies picking themselves up – some more slowly than others – after the disasters of the twentieth century. It is a rather hopeful account.

Many thanks to Bob Hall who gave me the first and third of these for my birthday – I had bought the Diana Cooper biography a couple of years ago and this spurred me to read it too.

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Dingle of the Husseys, Part 17 and end

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The last day:

The twenty-ninth we marched to Corke, where the Maiour and citizens receive the Lord Justice after their best manner. We met there with the wheat and malte which your lordship sente for the provision of the army, to their grete comfort ; and here I must lette your Lordship to understand, that your grete care and providence in sending hither of said shippes and good store is gretely commended, for it is gretely murmurred that the same is miserably misused and delayed by the victuallers and their ministers both before and after it cometh thyther, besydes the length of tyme ere it came. We camped before the cittie the space of fower dayes, during which tyme we entreated the citizens for the loan of 3 or 4 LI (£3— 400), who, after many persuasions used to them, lent the Lord Justice c LI (£100) in money ; c LI (£100) of wynes ; and offered him another c LI (£100)’s worth of fishes, pork, and beofe (beef) and such other havings for the souldiers, which, I assure your Lordship, was gretely pulled down with their journies and ill waies, ill wether, and grete want of brede (bread), whereof some dropt by the waie. They are able to endure alle this, if they had but bredde, the lack whereof is the only derthe here, and nought els.

And so the story of the expedition ends, with the descent onto Cork in search of provisions.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this account of a journey to south-west Ireland 437 years ago. For me, it’s a work in progress, thinking about how I will use it for my wider project on Nicholas White’s life.

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Dingle of the Husseys, Part 16

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A short one today.

The twenty-eighth we camped by the edge of Muskerry, in Sir Cormac Mac Teige’s countrie.

Sir Cormac McTeig McCarthy, as Lord of Blarney, engaged in such flattering discourse with Queen Elizabeth that he gave his title to the word “blarney”.

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Dingle of the Husseys, Part 15

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This is one of the main tourist traps of Ireland now; who knows what it was like in 1580?

The twenty-seventh, we marched by the famous Lough Leyn, out of which the ryver of Lowgen doth spring, and falleth into the sea beside Magne. The Logh is fulle of salmon, and hath in it eleven islands, in one of which (Innisfallen), there is an abbey in another a parish church, and in another (Rosse) a castel, out of which there came to us a fair lady the rejected wife of Lord Fitz-Maurice, daughter to the late McCartie-More (elder brother to the Erle). It is a circuit of twelve miles, having a faire plaine on one side, faire woodes and high mountaynes on the other side, thence we passed bv the entrie of Glanflesk, that “famous Spelunck,” whereof the traytours make their chief fastnesse, and, finding neither people nor cattel there, we held on and camped that night in O’Kallaghan’s countrie, by the river of Brode water which passeth by Youghal.

Not surprised that the expedition cane around the eastern side of the lake in the end.

The rejected wife of Lord FitzMaurice is Katherine, daughter of the Earl’s brother Teige (who most sources give as younger rather than older). Her estranged husband isn’t James Fitzmaurice but Thomas Fitzmaurice, Baron Kerry. She was his second wife; she died of smallpox in 1582 and he married again.

I can’t find any recent mention of the traitors’ cave in Glenflesk, which is a shame as it sounds rather fun. It was being shown to tourists in 1846, anyway.

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Dingle of the Husseys, Part 14

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In case you were wondering, there is no diary entry for 25 June 1580.

The twenty-sixth, after storing of Castle-Magne with victuals, we marched thence towards Corke, through part of Desmond, the Erle of Clancartie‘s contrie, and camped that night by the fayre river of Lawyn (Laune), tween “The Palace,” one of Clancartie’s chiefe houses and Downelow (Dunlogh) a house of O’Sullivan-More’s rased by the Erle of Ormond in the last warre of James Fitz-Maurice. The river hath in it many big muscles, where in are found many fayre perles.

The two castles took me some effort to identify. “The Palace” is Pallis Castle, AghadoeParkavonear Castle. “Downelow” (which Mary Agnes Hickson thinks is “Dunlogh”) is surely Dunloe, the start of the famous Gap of Dunloe.

I find it a little odd that the expedition camped on the north-west side of Lough Leane rather than the easier east side.

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Two Professor Bell comics by Joann Sfar

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Second frame of third page of De Mexicaan met Twee Hoofden:


The Mexican: "You cannot leave me to my fate. This head is driving me crazy. It
keeps pulling faces and wakes me in the middle of the night by grinding its teeth."
Professor Bell: "Ask a dentist to pull them out."
Second frame of third page of De Poppen van Jerusalem:

Eliphas the Ghost: "Do you think it is wise to flee from reality?"
Professor Bell: "Yes."

At a book fair a couple of years ago, I spotted these going for less than a euro, and snapped them up, having hugely enjoyed the first and second Rabbi's Cat collections. I wasn't so sure about these two, which open a series of five albums about a heavily fictional version of Professor Joseph Bell, who in real life inspired his student Arthur Conan Doyle's most famous creation. In the first, Bell is approached by a character based (anachronistically) on Pasqual Pinon, and must explore zombies and ghosts while avoiding the police; in the second, he rescues a rabbi and a priest from Jerusalem who have been shrunk to doll-size and transported to Scotland, and then in turn heads off to Jeruslaem to prevent an infernal summoning. It somehow lacks the quirkiness and humanity of the Rabbi's Cat, and the genre teeters uneasily between horror and fantasy. So, not really recommended. (I read the Dutch translation, and won't bother to find the French original.)

This was at the top of my pile of unread comics in languages other than English; next is the second volume of Antarès, by Leo.

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Sunday reading

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Current
Watchmen, by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons (a chapter a month)
1688: A Global History, by John E. Wills
Robinson Crusoe, by Daniel Defoe
Lives of Girls and Women, by Alice Munro

Last books finished
In Xanadu, by William Dalrymple
Marzi: A memoir, by Marzena Sowa
HWJN by Ibraheem Abbas
A Woman of the Iron People, by Eleanor Arnason

Next books
New Europe, by Michael Palin
The Angel Maker, by Stefan Brijs
Short Trips: The Quality of Leadership, ed. Keith R.A. DeCandido

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Dingle of the Husseys, Part 13

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The armies reunite:

The twenty-fourth the Erle of Ormond came to us to Castel-Magne, in his route into Korke, bringing with him the Erle of Clancartie, O’Sullivan-Beare, O’Sullivan-More, O’Donoghuc-More, McFynin of the Kerrie, McDonogh, O’Keefe, O’Kallaghan, McAwley, and alle the rest of the L L [Lords] of Desmond, except O’Donoghue of Glantlesk, which was with the traytours. Manie of them do not obeye the Erle of Clancarty, and yet they came with the Erle of Ormonde, without pardon or protection, whose credit is great among them; and by whose example of loyaltie and faithfulnesse to her Majestie, they are greatlie drawne to theyr dutie, contrarie to the pernicious persuasions that hath been used to them. They humbly submitted themselves, humbly acknowledging their dedes, and swearing fealtie and allegiance to her Majestie, with profession from thence forth devotedlie to serve her, after a dutiful fashion, by the Erle of Ormonde these brought a prey of iooo kyne, and slewe fower principal gentlemen of the Mac Fyneens and O’Sullivans.

White was a protege of Ormond as well as of Cecil, and uses the opportunity to get a good word in for one patron with the other. Ormond was a cousin of the Queen and his loyalty was never in question.

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Dingle of the Husseys, Part 12

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Off the peninsula:

The twenty-third, we came to Castel-Magne where we found the pynance of the victuals at the Castel syde, and the master which guided her thyther, told my Lord Justice that he had sounded the channel, and durst undertake to bring a ship of c tons within a stone’s cast of the castel; and, truly, it is built on a notable place to rule both the counties of Kerry and Desmond, on both sydes of the River of Magne.

Indeed, Castlemaine was to become the main royal fortress in the area for the next few centuries.

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Dingle of the Husseys, Part 11

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Start of the return journey:

The twenty-second, having well refreshed our soldiers, and agreed on the plan of fortifications, with other matters for answering the service both by sea and lande. we returned back to Castel-Mayne, camping that night at The Inch, beside the Baye of Dingell. I have forgotten to lett your Lordship understand, that the ships hath made themselves a sort of castel upon the shore, and hath their cattel passing about it, which they take from the natives by marching farre into the countrie.

Interesting and entirely un-ironic reference to “natives”. (Of course, White was an Irish native himself.)

No more cockle-picking.

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Dingle of the Husseys, Part 10

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The next daie being the twenty-first we went to see the Forte of Smerwicke, five myles from the Dingell to the westward, accompanied by Sir William Wynter, Captain Bingham, and Mr. Greville. The thing itself is but the end of a rocke shooting out into the Baye of Smenvicke, under a long cape, whereupon a merchant of the Dingell, called Piers Rice, about a year before James Fitz-Maurice's landing, built a perty castel under pretence of gayning by the resort of strangers thythir a fishinge, whereas, in very truth, it was to receive James at his landinge, and because at that very instant tyme, a ship laden with Mr. Furbisher's newe found riches happened to presse upon the sandes near to the place, whose carcase and stones I saw lie there, carrying also in his mynde a golden imaginacion of the cominge of the Spaniards, called his bylding Down-enoyr, which is as much as to say, "The Golden Downe."

The ancient name of the Baye, in the Irish tongue, is the Haven of Ardcanny, compounded of these words Ard and Canny, and signifieth "Height," and "Canny," as derived from a certain devout man named Canutius, which upon the height of the cliffs, as appears at this day, built a little hermitage for himself to live a contemplative there, and so is it as much as to say "Canutius's Height;" and afterwards by the Spaniards it was called Smerwicke, by what reason I know not.

James Desmond did cut a necke of the rocke from the mainland, to make it the stronger, it lyeth equal with the maynlande, having a hole, with grete labour, digged into it, and to my measurement, it conteyneth but 40 foote in length, and 20 for brode, at the brodest place, now all passed and judged by menne of skyll a place of noe strength. The whole ground whereof it is parcel, is a peninsula, within which the Knight of Kerry's house standeth, and is called "The Island of Ardcanny."

We went then aborde the Queen's shippes, with some merrie scruple, whether the realme should be without a governor, whereas the Lord Justice was uponne the sea; but hunger moved us to make a favourable construction of the lawe. We had grete entertainment on boarde, and the Admiral and the reste of the Captains lente us of their stores to refresh our camp withall, both byer (beer) and byskett for two dais, which we stretched to fower, and sent theyr pinnace to Castel-Mayne.

After our coming from aborde, the Admiral shott off an ayre (discharge) of ordnance whereoff one demi-culverin in the stemme did flame, and therewith the master-gunners cabin brake out the side one grete piece of tymber, and like to have made fowle worke, but God be thanked, no manne hurte, nor the ship brought out of plight to serve. All this while the Erle of Ormonde was over agaynst us in this journey through the mountayn of Desmond, towards Valentia, whose fyres we might discern from us by the baye, about ten miles over.

This is almost a year after the Desmond rebellion had been sparked by James FitzMaurice landing a small force at Smerwick, and five months later a besieged Spanish force were to be massacred by Walter Raleigh and his men.

There is a theory that the local name for Smerwick, "Dún an Óir", "fort of gold" (as White says), is a mistake for "Dún an Áir", "fort of the massacre", but since White reports the "gold" derivation five months before the massacre that seems unlikely. The fort itself was based on an Iron Age construction.

"Ard na Caithne" is still the official Irish name for Smerwick. However it seems more likely to be from "caithne", the arbutus or strawberry tree. The name associated with the ancient hermitage, which still stands, is Gallarus, not Canutius.

The question of whether the Lord Deputy could leave Ireland without royal permission was to have fatal consequences for the Earl of Essex two decades later.

Good to hear of the Earl of Ormonde again – I was wondering what had happend to him.

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Dingle of the Husseys, Part 9

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The expedition reaches Dingle.

The twentyeth we came to the Dingell, where Sir William Wynter, Captain Bingham, and Mr. Fowlke Greville came to us from aborde the Queen's shippes, which laye in the Bay of Dingel, a mile to the west of the Haven of Dingell.

A part of that daie we passed in reviewing both havens and the towne, and also in considering what place were fittest to fortify for defence of both, which, after a long debating between the Lord Justice and the Admiral, was agreed to be in the Haven of VentrieVentrie is called Coon Fyntra, which is almost as to saie "White Sand Haven," because the strand is white sand, full of white shells ; and Dingle Haven is called in the Irish Coon e daf deryck, which is almost to say " Red-ox-Haven," and took that name of the drowning of an ox in that haven, at the first coming over of the Englishmenne from Cornwall, which brought some cattel with them.

We find the chiefest merchantes of the towne's houses rased, which were very strong before and built castel-wyse, — done by Sir John of Desmond, and the Knight of Kerrie, as they say, cursing him and Doctor Saunders as the root of all their calamities. The Burgesses were taken into protection by Sir William Winter before our coming, to helpe buildinge the towne againe, whose names are those following,

Bonvilles. Baileys. Skurlocke.
Kleos als Knolls. Rices. Sleynes.
Horgetts. Teraunts. Angells and Goldings.

One of the eldest of them told me that soone uppon the conquest of Englishmen in Ireland, a gentleman named “De La Cousa” was lord of that town and builded it, whose issue in manie years after finding the towne escheated to the House of Desmond, and by that reason it is called to this daye “Dingell de Couse.”

This is now a major military force, with the army arriving from the east and the naval component from the west. NB the appearance of 26-year-old Fulke Greville, at the start nof a long political career.

The official Irish name of Venrty these days is just Ceann Trá rather than Cuan Fionn Trá, but the latter obviously is the source of the English name (and I wonder why "Ceann", "Head" is the official irish rather than "Cuan", "Bay").

"Coon e daf deryck" is presumably "Cuan damh dearg", which is indeed an old name for Dingle (the official Irish these days is "An Daingean", "The Fort").

I have tended to assume that White could understand and speak Irish; he obviously was not acquainted with the written language. (Though he is writing here for Cecil, who spoke Welsh but would perhaps have been unable to manage written Irish.)

Sir John of Desmond and the Knight of Kerry were both also called John FitzGerald, just for confusion.

Dingle's population today is about 2,000. Impressive that there were as many as ten families of English settlers who could call themselves "burgesses". Trade with France and Spain mst have been good.

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