 | ||
Sarum
My birthday started out bright and cheery. After breakfast we headed south again, and stopped at the site of ancient Sarum, Salisbury's roman precursor, a large hill fort where, as it happened, there was a gathering of history hobbyists in medieval dress engaging in jousting and other anachronistic activities. | ||
 pike and halberd practice
photo credit: Chad Abramson |
Sarum was the original site for the city now known as Salisbury -- a hill fort town then, now in more peaceful times a pleasant riverside city. Sarum started as a Roman settlement, but its present ruins are mostly from an early Christian era when the Bishop of Sarum attracted royal notice and favor by building a fort for the local king. There isn't much left to the ruins: the hill, a suggestion of walls and the cathedral and interconnected palace used by the bishop and the king when he was in the neighborhood. |
On the Sunday we visited, we had been preceded by a well-organized group of English-folk who enjoy spending their weekends pretending it's 1300 ... or 850, 1550, depending on their specific interests and skills. They occupy a place (by arrangement with the National Trust) and live there over the weekend as if in ancient times ... and charge visitors an extra few pounds. I would have been quite content just to walk the vestigial battlements and enjoy the commanding view over the surrounding countryside, but we enjoyed the added ambiance.
We found most of the villagers, men and women alike, engaged in defensive practice -- perhaps they expected a Goth attack later in the day? |
 Chad testing a halberd |
 readying breakfast for the troops |
Chad tried out a halberd he found lying on the grass, but an officious squat woman bustled over and took it away from him -- maybe she didn't like his shirt. So we found an array of halberds in a secluded corner and Chad engaged in a little practice.
There appeared to be a class distinction -- the warlike folk inside the walls, and the merchant cast (and the jousters on horseback) at the foot of the hill. Inside the wall, those not skirmishing were preparing an "authentic" breakfast of berry sauce and pancakes. It looked yummy, but we weren't wearing the right shirts, and the villagers weren't especially friendly. |
Back down the hill amongst the tradespeople, the "period folk" were friendlier. One fellow, who was selling reproductions of old coins, gave us a lesson about what the common people could have expected of their lord: two meals a day, a dry place to live, two suits of clothing, a patch of land sufficient for the growing of necessaries, education as appropriate for the children, and defense from marauders. In return, they gave work-time on the lord's lands, and dressed up in their best clothes when he asked them to. |
the tradespeople's camp below the mound modern day Salisbury in the distance |
 mounted page at the jousting |
The tradesfolk had spent the day before -- a wet afternoon, as previously noted -- in their well put-together tents, which had three rooms, bedroom (comfy looking beds), sitting room, and storeroom, all inside an oval tent about 20' by 10'. There was a significant amount of wet clothing and other supplies steaming in the sun, although the townsfolk seemed to have fared a little less well than the tradesfolk. On offer: "medieval style" mead and flavored wines, beads, clothing, wooden swords and cardboard helmets for children, and period metalware. I bought two gorgeous stainless steel forks, and got a little lesson from the maker on "the first fork" -- serving many purposes as the pin that held the over-cloak together, eating utensil, and emergency weapon.
Most of the spectators had gathered to watch half a dozen "knights" on horseback practicing hitting a target or picking up rings with their lances and swords. The finely caparisoned fellow at left rode around and looked good for photographers.
 |
After Sarum, we drove on, mostly against the home-bound traffic that was already starting to thicken. A few miles south of Salisbury we saw the southern sea for the first time, in the distance over rolling fields. By the time we reached Lyme Regis, the fine morning had turned grey and threatening, but Lyme was absolutely mobbed, with parking two miles from the beach. At the next beach, at the mouth of the river Ax, we found a parking place half a block from the beach, and enjoyed our picnic as the sky darkened.
the shingle beach at Axmouth
photo credit: Chad Abramson
Chad and Rochelle enjoying the day
photo credit: Chad Abramson |
 the sea in the distance
The water didn't look at all inviting, and the beach was hard to walk on without shoes, but there were nevertheless dozens of stout British lying on beach towels in their bathers, and a few children actually in the surf.
testing the water: cold!
photo credit: Chad Abramson
As we ate our lunch, a couple of dignified British ladies -- let the record reflect that they were wearing sundresses, not bathers -- decided the wind and cloud was permanent, and started putting their bathing gear into their beach house. "Summer's over?" I asked. "Oh yes," they replied cheerfully before heading home for a cuppa.
Well, we can be cheery too! we thought as we got back in the car and headed on to Totnes.
|
|
|
updated 13 August 2001 : 9:10 Caspar (Pacific) time this site generated with 100% recycled electrons! send website feedback to the Solarnet webster |
© 2001-2002 by Caspar Institute. All Rights Reserved. | |
