20 Journey Through the Middle Ages 020

Anthony Scott was invited by Count Balzac to the Brudo court to teach the princess of Brudo the language and grammar of the Eastern Roman Empire. He had originally been traveling through various countries as a renowned scholar, naturally seeking potential patrons along the way. Upon arriving in Vason, the invitation from the Brudo court came at a most opportune moment.

Count Balzac promised a generous remuneration and also agreed to fund Anthony’s alchemical experiments... Yes, he was still an alchemist. He had once studied under the imperial astrologer of the Eastern Roman court, who was both a scholar and an alchemist. This was hardly surprising, as astrology and alchemy had long been deeply intertwined.

“Looks quite decent, Father.” Helena, Anthony’s daughter, who had accompanied him, glanced over him to ensure his attire was appropriate for the day.

Anthony’s wife had passed away many years ago, and he had never remarried, living only with his daughter. Helena was now twenty-seven but showed no intention of marrying. The official explanation was that she stayed to care for her aging father; after all, traveling from country to country was arduous and difficult for an elderly person without constant care.

In truth, that was only part of the reason. More importantly, Helena had absolutely no interest in marriage. Compared to most women of their era, she had received a more comprehensive education and was keenly aware of women’s status in society. The prospect of marriage held no allure for her; she rejected it from the depths of her soul.

Fortunately, Helena had a loving and understanding father. Anthony never found fault in his daughter’s choice to remain unmarried, as long as she was happy. As for the future, even after his passing, with Helena’s erudition, securing a livelihood within a noble household would be easy.

“...a banquet, I hope there won’t be any annoying guests this time. Last time at Sidai...” Anthony shook his head, recalling some unpleasant memory, then said to his daughter, “May the Lord bless us. My only hope is that Miss Louisa proves to be a diligent student.”

Anthony’s feelings about having a female pupil were mixed.

From his experience, noblewomen generally had stronger cultural literacy than noblemen. Perhaps this was because many noblemen still held to centuries-old beliefs that “knowledge was useless,” reserved only for “those who pray” — a medieval classification dividing people into those who pray (clergy), those who fight (warriors), and those who labor (mainly peasants).

True military nobles were expected to flaunt their strength and pride themselves on their unlearned “simplicity,” setting themselves apart as worldly warriors. They feared that knowledge would erode their nature, much like the ever-increasing folds of their robes, silk pennants on their spears, polished armor, high beds with soft pillows, and golden and silver cups... These splendid but impractical indulgences seduced the stalwart warrior, leading them to decline into weakness, cunning, debauchery, and frivolity.

Of course, the world’s changes do not bend to the will of a few. Human nature loves to gain without effort, to be supreme, to feast, and to indulge vanity. The early, arduous days have passed; now that people can enjoy comforts, how many can maintain their ancestors’ “simplicity”?

This is true across time and cultures: the first and second generations are plain in spirit; later generations become increasingly ostentatious. Regarding “culture,” the first generation may be illiterate or semi-literate, but once order is established and achievements made, refinement and music flourish.

In short, the military nobility of the time still clung somewhat to the idea that “the ancestral ways must not change.” Many pursued knowledge, but many did not. Even so, their daily lives were far less austere than their ancestors’, indulging in lavish food and drink.

One might wonder if their rejection of knowledge was due to loyalty to ancestral traditions or simply an aversion to the hardships of study. Likely, it was a combination of both.

Noblewomen fared much better in this regard, at least bearing no ideological burdens. Many castles lacked dedicated tutors, so young pages learned their basic culture from noblewomen — although knights were often illiterate or semi-literate (strictly speaking, all military nobles were knights, including the king, who also held a knightly title), they at least recognized local script to avoid being easily deceived.

Additionally, arts like poetry and music, part of the knightly seven liberal arts, required some cultural foundation.

However, noblewomen often lacked the ambition to pursue knowledge vigorously — hardly their fault. Male nobles who studied under renowned scholars usually did so with earnestness because their learning had practical application. For noblewomen, unless they had a genuine passion or sought it as a hobby, motivation was scarce.

If Louisa showed little interest in her studies, Anthony would have no less worry! His employer, Count Balzac, naturally expected results...

With some apprehension, Anthony attended the feast. Tonight’s banquet at the Brudo court was not especially grand; it was held to celebrate All Saints’ Day — known in later ages as “Halloween,” a festival where people dressed as eerie creatures and children went door to door for sweets, threatening tricks if none were given.

But at this time, it was a relatively important religious festival — though certainly not as significant as Christmas, Easter, or Pentecost.

All Saints’ Day served as a commemoration for the multitude of saints. While many renowned saints had their own feast days, the many others were collectively honored on November 1st, hence the name “All Saints’ Day.”

The later fusion of All Saints’ Day with November 2nd’s “Day of the Dead” created the modern Halloween, much like how certain Chinese festivals merged due to proximity.

Strictly speaking, this festival was to be celebrated in churches. Yet, since everyone attended church during the day, the evening was free for feasting under the festival’s pretext.

The dinner was held in the grand hall on the west side of the castle’s first floor (the Brudo castle had two grand halls, one west and one east; the west hall was more magnificent). When Anthony arrived, servants had already arranged tables and chairs in the hall’s center.

The dining tables were set in a U-shape, open toward the room’s entrance to facilitate the serving of dishes and performances by entertainers. At the innermost part, on a raised platform facing the opening, was the “high table” for the count’s family. Clearly, no distinguished guests were present tonight, or they would have been invited to the high table.

Anthony was not seated at the high table either but was given a place near the front on one of the sides, close enough to the high table to indicate favor.

The tables were covered with pristine white linen cloths, and silver candlesticks gleamed, each holding numerous lit candles that brightly illuminated the entire hall. The expense for this alone was considerable, proving the Brudo family’s wealth was well deserved.

As for the tableware, each place setting included plates, wine glasses, soup spoons, knives, and hand-washing basins — all made of gold or silver. This was unsurprising; the great nobles of the time all possessed such items, which were heirlooms rather than expendables like candles.

Guided by the court steward’s staff, Anthony took his seat — seating arrangements being a crucial aspect of courtly banquets. Poorly planned seating could breed discontent among guests, tarnishing the event’s success.

Sometimes such errors even sparked violent conflicts!

When Anthony sat, he found a brightly colored silk quilted cushion on his chair. Shortly after, the guests had mostly arrived, and twenty knights dressed in blue silk (the Brudo family’s color) entered, carrying basins and towels.

These attendants helped the host and guests wash and dry their hands — a vital custom, as meals were often eaten with hands; handwashing before eating was not only etiquette but also a matter of hygiene, vaguely understood even then as linked to health.

Following them came musicians and singers, who performed to enliven the feast.

At this moment, Anthony took the chance to observe the count’s family at the high table. He had previously met the count upon arriving at the Brudo court. Tonight, the count wore a more splendid silk robe than on their first meeting, draped with a brocade cloak, and adorned with a beautiful belt, clasps, and a hat decorated with gold, silver, and jewels that shimmered finely in the candlelight.

Beside the count sat the countess, as the rumors described: fair and dignified, though with lips too thin — a notable flaw. Beyond that, appearances revealed little.

On the other side sat the count’s eldest daughter, presumably the future countess of Brudo.

She was also Anthony’s pupil, Miss Louisa Balzac.

Seeing this young lady, Anthony could not help but feel the Lord’s favor upon her.