A haunting masterpiece: the Steinfeld glass

As I mentioned in my last blog post, I was in London this week for an author visit to Chigwell School, and I managed to squeeze in a very quick visit to the Victoria and Albert Museum afterwards, to see the Steinfeld Abbey stained glass. I have seen it before, at the Schnütgen Museum in Cologne in 2007, where it formed part of a fabulous exhibition entitled Rheinische Glasmalerei: Meisterwerke der Renaissance (Rhenish Stained Glass: Masterpieces of the Renaissance). All the same, I couldn't resist taking the opportunity to see it again. I have a special affection for the Steinfeld glass; its history is so fascinating, and it has touched those who have been associated with it in an extraordinary way. The famous English ghost story writer M.R.James was inspired by it to write his chilling tale The Treasure of Abbot Thomas.

I've blogged about the glass before, for example in this post from May 2010: http://helengrantbooks.blogspot.co.uk/2010/05/glass-demon-published-today.html - its history was a major inspiration for my second novel, The Glass Demon.

I've also written several articles about it for the M.R.James Ghosts and Scholars Newsletter. You can see one of them here: http://www.users.globalnet.co.uk/~pardos/GSNews5.html#anchor60621 The other article, 'Lingering Memories of the Treasure': How the lost stained glass of Steinfeld was discovered, was published in issue 13 of the Newsletter (March 2008) and it has never appeared online. I intend to post it on my blog in the near future.

I wasn't sure until yesterday afternoon whether I would actually have time to visit the museum. The school visit was in Essex, a long journey to the eastern end of the Central Line. My train back to Edinburgh departed from King's Cross so the V&A down in South Kensington was definitely out of my way. However, I did manage to get there, although I only had about 45 minutes in the museum. It was years since my last visit (I've been abroad for most of the last decade, after all) and I was unable to work out where the glass was from the wall plans in the entrance hall, so I had to go and ask for help at the information desk.
"Is the Steinfeld glass on display?" I asked the young man on the desk.
He looked at me rather blankly. "How do you spell that?"
"S-t-e-i-n-f-e-l-d."
He looked at his computer. "Would that be in Mediaeval and Renaissance?"
"Yes," I said, and was instantly rather embarrassed at the sound of breathless excitement in my voice. Is there such a thing as a Stained Glass Geek? I think I have become one.
"Room 64, upstairs on the first floor."
I went upstairs but the layout was rather confusing; did he mean the first landing or the floor at the top of the stairs? Whilst I was debating this, a friendly security guard came out and asked me whether he could help. I explained that I was looking for room 64 because I wanted to see the Steinfeld stained glass. He very kindly directed me to it, adding, "If you go downstairs afterwards there is a room full of stained glass."
He was so friendly that I didn't like to say that it wasn't just any stained glass I was after, it was just one particular set of stained glass! Finally I found room 64 and there it was.

There were only a few windows on display. One or two others are in other rooms in the museum; most are in storage at the moment. As luck would have it, one of the windows on display is the one depicting the Fall of the Angels (in German, Engelsturz) which has a particular significance for me. In The Glass Demon, the heroine Lin describes a window from the fictional Allerheiligen Abbey, that depicts this same scene:

'I looked at the panel he was indicating; it was the one showing the Fall of the Angels. The upper part of the window was crowded with a throng of white-robed winged figures wielding swords and spears, descending out of skies the colour of Ceylon sapphires. Below them were the rebel angels, grotesquely ugly horned and winged creatures whose skin was tinted the crimson of blood or the green of decay. They tumbled down through empty space towards a bleak landscape of rock and fire far below, twisting and turning as they fell, jaws bared to reveal rows of jagged teeth snarling uselessly at their pursuers. Only one had his face turned outwards, as though staring out of the window directly at the observer. The expression on the red-tinted face was sly and complacent, even challenging, and painted with such detail that I could understand the rumours that Remsich had taken his figures from the life.'

The fictional window is based on the Steinfeld window of this subject, which you can see below, even down to the red demon with his calm complacent face staring out at the observer.

It is hard for me to express the extent of my fascination with the Steinfeld glass. Each time I have seen it, in 2007 and again yesterday, I have felt overwhelmed. Its history is so dramatic as to be almost improbable - lost for over a century, and rediscovered by someone who is himself famous for the ghost stories he wrote, in one of which the glass features.

More than that, since I became interested in the Steinfeld glass I have taken a general interest in stained glass of the period, and soon realised how little of it there is left, thanks to the church-wreckers of the Reformation. It really is a very rare treasure.

I'm also curious about the man who created much of it - Gerhard Remsich (sometimes rendered Remisch). In all my researches into the Steinfeld glass (much of it conducted amongst old German documents) I have never been able to discover anything about Gerhard Remsich the man and artist. All that we can know about him is painted into the glass: the dynamic compositions, the vivid colours, the meticulous brush strokes. Some faint echo of personality is evident in the energy and flair with which he depicted the ancient and well-worn Bible stories.

I took as many photographs as I could, and have posted some of them below. Photography was not permitted at the exhibition in the Schnütgen museum, so this is the first time I have had any photographs of my own to share, rather than posting links to other people's.

Finally I had to take my leave, hoping that this time it won't be another five years before I see the glass again. If there is CCTV in room 64, it may have caught sight of the lady in the leather jacket glancing around to make sure there was no-one else in the room, then blowing a kiss at the glass before hurrying away. 

This week, the only way was Essex...

This week I had a rare treat: I went down to London - my birthplace! - for a school visit. I suppose that if Scotland becomes independent this will eventually count as "abroad." Certainly it felt like "abroad." It has been so cold in Perthshire recently that I have been writing my novel whilst wrapped in a sleeping bag. When I mentioned this to someone recently they told me that I shouldn't be surprised because Scotland is on the same latitude as Moscow. I have no idea whether this is true or not, but if it isn't, it jolly well ought to be.
In London, however, it was hot. Actually hot. I took off the two jackets I had piled on in Perthshire and did my best to soak up enough rays to last me until next spring.
The school visit was to Chigwell School in Essex, which meant a journey far further out on the eastern end of the Central line than I have ever been before. The school had arranged accommodation for me on the premises, and before I went down there I had been joking to my friends that I hoped it wouldn't be in the girls' dorm. Well, I had one of those imagine-my-surprise moments when it turned out that I really was sleeping in a dorm! Thankfully it wasn't full of pillow-fighting midnight-feast-eating schoolgirls; it was actually a former dorm, now no longer occupied by the students. It was in a very large, very old building which in common with many old houses has its share of unidentifiable creaks and groans. If this was not eerie enough, my friend the professor texted me to tell me that my goddaughter (her daughter) wished to remind me of the scene in The Devil's Backbone where the ghost of a boy appears to his schoolfellows in a boarding school. Thanks very much, Alex! I texted back to tell her mother to tell her that if I died of fright she need not expect to be remembered in my will...
The sessions with the students the next morning were great - a fantastically attentive audience and some very interesting questions. I used to talk a lot about the inspiration behind specific books, but as it is a bit much to expect everyone to have read all my books, I now tend to talk more about where I get my ideas. My first three books were very much inspired by the places and things I saw around me, but when we moved away from Germany I found myself in a new and unfamiliar environment and I started actually looking for creepy and sinister places as inspiration for future books. I went up church bell-towers and down sewers and catacombs. The photographs from the catacombs always go down well; there is pretty nearly always an audible gasp from someone when the slide of the skulls comes up! Afterwards I had time to answer questions and then sign copies of my books.
A very big thank you to Paul Fletcher, the Senior school Librarian at Chigwell, for organising the visit, and to all the students who listened so attentively and asked so many great questions. My favourite was whether I ever have an idea for a new book when I am halfway through writing one, and what do I do in that case? The answer is, yes, I do get ideas for future books whilst I am already working on other ones, and it nearly sends me distracted because I want to write all of them at once! I wish there were more hours in the week!
One final thing: during my talk I mentioned the Steinfeld Abbey stained glass, which inspired my second book, The Glass Demon. I had it in mind that if time permitted before I took my train back to Edinburgh I would go to the Victoria and Albert Museum in South Kensington to see the Steinfeld glass, and I'm pleased to say that I did have time for a very quick 45-minute visit to the museum. I've seen the glass before, when it was on display in the Schnütgen Museum in Cologne in 2007, but I couldn't resist going to see it again. I'm going to blog about it later, but in the meantime: if you want to see (some of) the Steinfeld glass, it's in room 64 of the V&A, amongst the Mediaeval and Renaissance artefacts.

"The scum of the World": pirates in the 17th century.

This morning I visited Innerpeffray Library again, and in honour of International Talk Like A Pirate Day, which is today (19th September), I decided to find something pirate-related for my blog. Innerpeffray Librarian Lara Haggerty entered into the spirit of the day, and after telling me what must have been one of the worst pirate jokes ever, she found me A Collection of Voyages and Travels in Four Volumes, printed in 1704. It is a collection of works by various authors but the chapter about piracy occurs in Volume 2, as part of the True Travels, Adventures and Observations of Captain John Smith (1580-1631) - the very same John Smith who met Pocahontas!

I've transcribed the chapter exactly as it appears in the book - so there are some curious spellings and free use of capital letters and italics! Interestingly, the writer is not unsympathetic to the reasons why men became involved in piracy - often poverty or the fact that they had not been paid wages they were due. He concludes by encouraging merchants and shop owners to pay fairly and seamen themselves to consider reputation and prospects and therefore avoid piracy. 

Here is the chapter:

The true Travels, Adventures, and Observations of Captain JOHN SMITH.

CHAP. XXVIII

The bad Life, Qualities and Conditions of Pirates; and how they taught the Turks and Moors to become men of Warr.

As in all lands where there are many People, there are some Thieves, so in all Seas much frequented, there are some Pirates; the most Ancient within the Memory of threescore Years, was one Callis, who most refreshed himself on the Coast of Wales; Clinton and Purser his Companions, who grew famous till Queen Elizabeth of Blessed Memory, hanged them at Wapping; Flemming was as expert and as much sought for as they, yet such a Friend to his Country, that discovering the Spanish Armada, he voluntarily came to Plimouth, yielded himself freely to my Lord Admiral, and gave him notice of the Spaniards coming; which good warning came so happily and unexpectedly, that he had his Pardon, and a good Reward; some few Pirates there then remained; notwithstanding it is incredible how many great and rich Prizes the little Barques of the West Country daily brought home, in regard of their small Charge; for there are so many difficulties in a great Navy, by Wind and Weather, Victual, Sickness, losing and finding one another, they seldom defray half the charge: But for the Grace, State and Defence of the Coast and narrow Seas, a great Navy is most necessary, but not to Attempt any far Voyage, except there be such a Competent stock, they want not wherewith to furnish and supply all things with expedition; but to the purpose.

After the death of our most Gracious Queen Elizabeth of Blessed Memory; our Royal King James, who from his Infancy had Reigned in Peace with all Nations; had no imployment for those Men of Warr, so that those that were Rich rested with what they had; those that were poor and had nothing but from hand to Mouth, turned Pirates; some, because they became slighted of those for whom they had got much Wealth; some for that they could not get their Due; some that had lively bravely, would not abase themselves to Poverty; some vainly, only to get a name; others for Revenge, Covetousness, or as ill; and as they found themselves more and more oppressed, their Passions increasing with discontent, made them turn Pirates.

Now because the grew hatefull to all Christian Princes, they retired to Barbary, where altho’ there be not many good Harbours, but Tunis, Argier, Sally, Mamora, and Tituane, there are many convenient Rodes, or the open Sea, which is their chief Lordship: for their best Harbours Massalqueber, the Towns of Oran, Mellila, Tangier, and Ceuta, within the Streights, are possessed by the Spaniards; without the Streights they have also Arzella, and Mazagan; Mamora they have likewise lately taken, and Fortified. Ward a poor English Sailer, and Dansker a Dutchman, made first here their Marts, when the Moors knew scarce how to sail a Ship; Bishop was Ancient and did little hurt; but Easton got so much as made himself a Marquess in Savoy; and Ward lived like a Bashay in Barbary; those were the first that taught the Moors to be Men of War. Gennings, Harris, Tompson, and divers others were taken in Ireland, a Coast they much frequented, and died at Wapping. Haws, Bough, Walsingham, Ellis, Collins, Sawkwel, Wollingstone, Barrow, Wilson, Sayres, and divers others, all these were Captains amongst the Pirates, whom King James Mercifully Pardon’d; and was it no strange, a few of those should command the Seas. Notwithstanding the Malteses, the Pope, Florentines, Genoeses, French, Dutch and English, Gallies and Men of War, they would rob before their Faces, and even at their own Ports, yet seldom more than three, four, five or six in a Fleet: many times they had very good Ships, and well Man’d, but commonly in such Factions amongst themselves, and so Riotous, Quarrellous, Treacherous, Blasphemous and Villanous, it is more than a wonder they could so long continue, to do so much Mischief; and all they got, they barely consumed it amongst Jews, Turks, Moors and Whores.

The best was, they would seldom go to Sea, so long as they could possibly live on shoar, being compiled of English, French, Dutch and Moors, (but very few Spaniards or Italians) commonly running one from another, until they became so disjointed, disordered, debauched, and miserable, that the Turks and Moors began to command them as Slaves, and force them to instruct them in their best skill, which many an accursed Runnagado, or Christian turned Turk did, till they have made those Sally-men or Moors of Barbary  so Powerful as they be, to the Terror of all the Streights, and many times they take Purchase in the Main Ocean, an, yea sometimes in the narrow Seas in England, and those are the most cruel Villains in Turky or Barbary; whose Natives are very Noble, and of good Natures, in comparison of them.

To conclude, The Misery of a Pirate, (altho’ many are sufficient Seamen as any) yet in regard of his superfluity, you shall find it such, that any wise Man would rather live amongst wild Beasts, than them; therefore let all  unadvised Persons take heed they entertain that quality; and I could how wish Merchants, Gentlemen, and all Setters forth of Ships, not to be sparing of a Competent Pay, nor true Payment; for neither Soldiers nor Seamen can live without Means, but necessity will force them to steal; and when they are once entred into that Trade, they are hardly reclaimed. Those Titles of Seamen and Soldiers, have been most worthily honoured and esteemed, but now regarded for the most part, but as the scum of the World; regain therefore your wonted Reputations and endeavour rather to Adventure to those fair Plantations of our English Nation; which however in the beginning were scorned contemned, yet now you see how many Rich and Gallant People come from thence, who went thither as Poor as any Soldier or Sailer, and gets more in one Year, than you by Piracy in seven. I intreat you therefore to consider how many Thousands yearly go thither; also how many Ships and Sailers are imployed to Transport them, and what Custom they Yearly pay to our most Royal King Charles, whose Prosperity and his Kingdom’s good, I humbly beseech the Immortal God to preserve and increase.

...and finally, here is a picture of a lady pirate from M&D's theme park in Glasgow (above)! Still capturing the imagination.  

No excuses not to visit: it's FREE for 2 days

 I admit it, I'm alway going on about Innerpeffray Library. It's one of my absolutely favourite places in Scotland, a 250 year old building containing books dating back to 1502, next door to an ancient church with a leper squint. What's not to like?

If you're within travelling distance of Innerpeffray (it's near Crieff, in Perthshire, Scotland) but have never visited, now's your chance. You can even get in FREE if you go next weekend (22nd and 23rd September) because the library is taking part in Perth and Kinross Doors Open Days. You can read about it here: http://www.doorsopendays.org.uk/opendays/Programme/Perth-and-Kinross/Innerpeffray-Library-191 The Library will be open 10am-5pm on Saturday and 2-4pm on Sunday. One thing to remember: you can't handle books on these open days. There will be more visitors than usual so it isn't practical. If you have to get your hands on them, visit another time! There will however be introductory talks (see the above link for times) and plenty of gorgeous old books on display for you to drool over. Well, not literally drool. It's inadvisable to get 500 year old books damp...

A demon lover, a mermaid bride and a monstrous baby!

Here are the latest excerpts from the Treatise of Specters, which I copied out this afternoon. These are from the section entitled An History of Strange Apparitions, and cunning delusions of Devils. I'm really excited about these stories: they're dramatic, gruesome and weird - judging by the content, sex and violence in the media is nothing new!

The first one is from De Praestigiis Daemonum et Incantationibus ac Veneficiis (On the Illusions of the Demons and on Spells and Poisons) of Johann Weyer (1515-1588) and gives new meaning to the expression "horse-faced"...

34. Hieronymus in his lives of the Fathers, tells of a certain Monk, who was enticed to most foul and lustfull embraces by a Devill in the shape of a most amiable Woman, who, when to propagate their lust, she bended forward her members towards him; seemed like a Mare or Mule, or some bruit creature. And when he endeavoured to accomplish carnall copulation, she making an ugly howling noise, like a spirit as she was, and a Phantasm, vanish’t from between his hands as he embraced her, and left him (wretched man!) miserably deluded. Vierus l. 2. C. 46. De Praestigiis Daemonum.

This next tale is attributed to Vincentius, who I think must be Vincentius of Beauvais, a thirteenth century Dominican friar who wrote the Speculum Maius, an encyclopaedia which included a history of the world up to his time. This story is about a mermaid. 

35. It is storied by Vincentius in the third Book of his Histories, that there was in Sicily under the King Rogerius, a young man of good courage, and very skilfull in swimming, who about twilight in a Moon-shine evening was washing himself in the Sea, and a woman swimming after him caught him by the hair, as if it had been some of his fellowes that intended to drown him. He spake to her, but could not get a word from her; whereupon he took her under his cloak, and brought her home, and afterward married her. On a time one of his fellows upbraiding him, told him he had hugg’d a phantasm; he being horribly affrighted, drew his sword, and threatened his Wife, that he would murder his son which he had by her, if she would not speak, and make her originall known. Alas poor wretch, saith she, thou undoest a commodious wife, in forcing me to speak; I should have continued with thee, and should have been beneficiall to thee, if thou hadst let me alone with my commanded silence. But now thou shalt never see me more. And immediately she vanished. But the Child grew up, and much frequented the Sea. In fine, on a certain day, this phantasm meeting him in those waters, carried him away in the presence of many people.

To finish, here is a gruesome story from Hector Boece's History of the Scottish People (1527)! 

36. In a Country called Marra, there was a very gallant and handsome young Lady, that had refused many in marriage, and most wickedly kept company with an evil spirit, by the Greeks termed Cacodaemon, who being with child by him, and by her Parents severity constrained to tell the father of it; answered, that she knew not where she was, that a very fair young man did oftentimes meet her by night, and sometimes by day. Her parents, though giving small credence to their daughter, yet earnestly desiring to know the truth, who it was that had perswaded and enticed their daughter to this lewdnesse, within three dayes after, the damosel having given them notice thereof, that he which ravish’d her, was with her; having therefore unlock’d the doors, and set up a great light, coming into the Chamber they saw an ugly foul Monster of such a fearfull hue, as no man can believe, in their daughters arms. Very many that were sent for, came in all haste to this unseemly object; Among whom, a Priest of an approved life, and well disciplined, all the rest being scared away, and amaz’d, when repeating the beginning of St. John’s Gospel, he came to that place, The Word was made Flesh, the evil Genius with a horrible outcry goes away, carrying the roof of the house away with him, and set all the furniture on fire. The woman being preserved from peril, was 3. dayes after brought to bed of a most deformed Monster, such as no man (as they say) ever saw; which the Midwives, to prevent the infamy and disgrace of that family, heaping up a great pile of wood, did instantly burn to ashes. Hector Boethus libr.8 hist. Scotorum.