Tag: historical analysis

Dear maester Steven, you’ve mentioned at times in the past that the only part of Westeros’ central government that seems out-of-date for the Late Middle Ages is the Judiciary, and to rectify this you suggested the creation of royal courts similar to the ones that Henry UK built. However, if a King of Westeros did intend to do this how many courts do you think should be built for the entire realm?

Well, let’s take Henry II’s judicial reforms as a jumping-off point: he’s perhaps best known for the Assizes of Clarendon (which in addition to asserting exclusive royal jurisdiction over criminal cases and royal jurisdiction over land disputes, also created some of the first grand juries) where he established the justices in eyre – six judges from Westminster who divided England between them and would travel in a circuit from county to county, covering their entire circuit every two years. He also established permanent judiciaries in the capitol which would eventually be known as the Court of Common Pleas and the Court of King’s Bench.And this was pretty much how things went from about 1166 to 1285-1360, where the system of local justices of the peace began to replace the justices in eyre in terms of who does the majority of judicial work. 

So if we were talking about providing a judiciary for Westeros, I think you’d probably start with a system of itinerant justices who could cover a good deal of territory between them, and you’d probably stagger the numbers by the size of the territory involved: Iron Islands are pretty small geographically so you could get away with one, Stormlands and Crownlands could probably be covered by two justices each, Westerlands and Vale maybe three or four each given the difficulty of mountain travel, the North and Dorne would probably need 5-6 given the long distances but also the lower population density, and the Reach would probably need 10 or more given the size and high population. 

Do you buy the pre-Conquest historical record of ASIOF? The apparent stagnation of the thousands of years that supposedly separate the Long Night, the Andal invasion, and the events of the books seems very suspect to me. Of course, it could simply be an authorial choice, but Martin’s routine use of unreliable narrators makes me more inclined to think the Long Night was “actually” no more than a couple thousand years prior to the books and that Martin is imagining a Phantom Time hypothesis.

Yes I do, but I entirely disagree that it’s a history of “stagnation.” Indeed, this is one of my pet peeves about the ASOIAF fandom – Westeros is not stagnant either technologically (moving from the Stone Age to the Late Middle Ages), culturally (the arrival of the First Men, their assimilation with CotF culture, the arrival of the Andals, the assimilation of most First Men into Andal culture, the “Old God and the New” tolerance, the arrival and integration of the Rhoynar into Dorne, etc.), or politically (the shift from a hundred kingdoms to Seven, then from Seven to the Iron Throne, then from Targaryen hegemony to the Baratheon dynasty to civil war).

Moreover, WOIAF actually supports a narrative of technological change over time: 

…in the first age of the world, the Dawn Age, men were not lettered. We can be certain that the world was far more primitive, however—a barbarous place of tribes living directly from the land with no knowledge of the working of metal or the taming of beasts…

…The children of the forest …worked no metal, but they had great art in working obsidian…They wove no cloths but were skilled in making garments of leaves and bark…they made their homes simply, constructing no holdfasts or castles or cities…

…unlike the children, the First Men farmed the land and raised up ringforts and villages. And in so doing, they took to chopping down the weirwood trees, including those with carved faces, and for this, the children attacked them, leading to hundreds of years of war. The First Men—who had brought with them strange gods, horses, cattle, and weapons of bronze—were also larger and stronger than the children, and so they were a significant threat…

…the Valyrians hungered for…copper and tin for the bronze of their weapons and monuments; later iron for the steel fo their legendary blades; and always gold ans silver to pay for it all…

…the Rhoynar…were said to be the first to learn the art of iron making…

…the Andals brought iron weapons with them and suits of iron plates…The fact that the Andals forged iron has been taken by some as proof that the Seven guided them—that the Smith himself taught them this art—and so do the holy texts teach. But the Rhoynar were already an advanced civilization at this time, and they too knew of iron, so it takes only the study of a map to realize that the earliest Andals must have had contact with the Rhoynar…and it would not be the first time that men learned of the working of iron from the Rhoynar; it is said that the Valyrians learned the art from them as well, although the Valyrians eventually surpassed them…

…Sweeping through the Vale with fire and sword, the Andals began their conquest of Westeros. Their iron weapons and armor surpassed the bronze with which the First Men still fought, and many First Men perished in this war…

…The Rhoynar brought considerable wealth with them; their artisans, metalworkers, and stonemasons brought skills far in advance of those achieved by their Westerosi counterparts, and their armorers were soon producing swords and spears and suits of scale and plate no Westerosi smith could hope to match. Even more crucially, it is said the Rhoynish water witches knew secret spells that made dry streams flow again and deserts bloom…

…Tyrosh…not long after the city’s founding, however, a unique variety of sea snail was discovered in the waters off the bleak, stony island where the fortress stood. These snails secreted a substance that, when properly treated, yielded a deep dark reddish dye that soon became wildly fashionable amongst the nobility of Valyria. As the snails were found nowhere else, merchants came to Tyrosh by the thousands, and the outpost grew into a major city in the space of a generation. Tyroshi dyers soon learned to produce scarlet, crimson, and deep indigo dyes as well by varying the diet of the snails…

…The artisans of Myr, many of slave birth, are also greatly renowned; Myrish lace and Myrish tapestries are said to be worth their weight in gold and spice, and Myrish lenses have no equal in all the world…

…The oldest of these—a long-abandoned tower, round and squat and covered with gargoyles—has become known as the First Keep. Some take this to mean that it was built by the First Men, but Maester Kennet has definitively proved that it could not have existed before the arrival of the Andals since the First Men and the early Andals raised square towers and keeps. Round towers came sometime later…

…after Qhored, a slow decline began. The kings who followed QHored played a part in that, yet the men of the green lands were likewise growing stronger. The First Men were building longships of their own, their towns defended by stone walls in place of wooden palisades and spiked ditches…The arrival of the Andals in the Seven Kingdoms only hastened the decline of the Iron Islands, for unlike the First Men who had gone before, the Andals were fearless seamen, with longships of their own as swift and seaworthy as any that the ironborn could build. As the Andals flooded into the riverlands, the westerlands, and the Reach, new villages sprang up along the coasts, walled towns and stout stone-and-timber castles rose over every cove and harbor, and great lords and petty kings alike began to build warships to defend their shores and shipping…

…Braavos has a wall of ships such as no other city in the world possesses…the true wonder is the Arsenal. There, one of the purple-hulled war galleys of Braavos can be built in a day. All the vessels are constructed following the same design, so that all the many parts can be prepared in advance, and skilled shipbuilders work upon different sections of the vessel simultaneously to hasten the labor. To organize such a feat of engineering is unprecedented; one need only look at the raucous, confused construction in the shipyards of Oldtown to see the truth of this…

And so on and so forth. 

Indeed, I would argue that if there is inaccuracy in the historical record, it actually is the appearance of stagnation, due to later chroniclers reinterpreting the history of eras thousands of years ago to fit the social order of their own time. As the WOIAF notes:

And besides the legendary kings and the hundreds of kingdoms from which the Seven Kingdoms were born, stories of such as Symeon Star-Eyes, Serwyn of the Mirror Shield, and other heroes have become fodder for septons and singers alike. Did such heroes once exist? It may be so. But when the singers number Serwyn of the Mirror Shield as one of the Kingsguard—an institution that was only formed during the reign of Aegon the Conqueror—we can see why it is that few of these tales can ever be trusted. The septons who first wrote them down took what details suited them and added others, and the singers changed them—sometimes beyond all recognition—for the sake of a warm place in some lord’s hall. In such a way does some long-dead First Man become a knight who follows the Seven and guards the Targaryen kings thousands of years after he lived (if he ever did). The legion of boys and youths made ignorant of the past history of Westeros by these foolish tales cannot be numbered.

It is best to remember that when we speak of these legendary founders of realms, we speak merely of some early domains—generally centered on a high seat, such as Casterly Rock or Winterfell—that in time incorporated more and more land and power into their grasp. If Garth Greenhand ever ruled what he claimed was the Kingdom of the Reach, it is doubtful its writ was anything more than notional beyond a fortnight’s ride from his halls. But from such petty domains arose the mightier kingdoms that came to dominate Westeros in the millennia to come.

So has Westeros been in medieval stasis for eight thousand years? No. Westeros was in the Bronze Age until 6000 years ago, with the ancient Kings of the First Men having far more in common with Agamemnon or Hammurabi than they would with Edward III. If the account of the Rhoynar bringing steel into Westeros is accurate, then Westeros has only had steel for a thousand years and in that time has already hit the Late Middle Ages.

Consider by contrast that the European Iron Age lasted ~1,800 years, and the Middle Ages another 1,000 years. 

I have a few questions regarding chartered cities, if that’s alright. First, how did the populations of the cities break down in terms of class? You’ve said that the people living in one are legally considered burghers, but surely not everyone would be of the middle class. Would many people be working higher income jobs than serfs, and be wealthier on average due to the lack of feudal taxes? Would there be taxes, if slightly lower, for the upkeep of the city? (1/2)

(2/2) As well, would cities have militia or a police force, similar in size, equipment and role to the goldcloaks in King’s Landing? Finally, would burghers be expected to join in military campaigns? If so, would they commonly have better equipment than the average serf due to their greater wealth? Thanks, and sorry about all of the questions.

So, as a legal term (as opposed to a class distinction), burgher originally meant that you are a citizen of the town (burgh means a town, and going further back means a fortified settlement), with the right to reside in the town and enjoy its rights and privileges. The social class of burghers that emerged in the 11th century were the elite of the towns and cities who were leaders of the guilds and who had the status necessary for being a city official. 

In terms of Medieval urban class structures, we don’t have anything like good enough evidence to give detailed population breakdowns – and there’s a lot of social categories that don’t fit well into modern conceptions of class. For example, by the Early Modern period (when we have better statistics), about 20% of the population were servants – do we see these people as part of the poor or working classes, when  being a servant was almost always a time-limited occupation where people in their teens from a range of backgrounds would work as servants until they had enough money set aside to set up their own household? 

Likewise, I’ve seen some Early Modern figures that say that around 27% of the population of London were apprentices  – again, our perspective of these people’s class position depends on how likely they were to make the climb up to journeyman and then master, which would radically alter their class position. Certainly, apprentices would have been seen as better off than unskilled laborers.

In terms of income, yes, city-dwellers tended to have higher wages (and living standards) than rural peasants, but you have to balance that against their significantly worse mortality statistics – living in a medieval or early modern town or city was a recipe for epidemic disease, so lots of people died in the cities. So city living was something of a gamble of higher wages in the short-term vs. increased likelihood of death in the long run? 

There were taxes – burgage taxes for leasing property (and later on, being a voter), murage taxes for building and maintaining walls, pavage taxes for streets, pontage taxes for bridges, and so on. But most of these taxes were property taxes, so if you didn’t own property (or if you were a sub-tenant), you didn’t pay. There were fairly hefty import, export, and other customs duties, which your average laborer would pay indirectly. 

Yes, there were militias, and they did tend to be better trained and equipped, because the towns and cities could support them from public revenue. And if they had enough money, they could even hire a mercenary company. 

Krim here, are you really suggesting a pre-modern abolition of monarchies for large nation states and replacing them with a fully representative people’s assembly? Would that realistically be feasible during such troubled eras in history, RL or Westeros?

Let me tell you a story about my ancestor. His name was Adam Attewell, he was a London butcher, and in the 14th century, he joined an illegal organization created by John Ball, known as the Great Society, dedicated to the proposition that peasants should be free and equal people under the law, and that the land belonged to the man who works it. And when Wat Tyler rose up, here’s what Adam did: 

image

When I say Team Smallfolk 4 Life, I mean it. 

I hope this isn’t too off-topic, but I’ve been reading Maurice Druon’s Accursed Kings lately, and had some questions about it. How historically valid are some of the more lurid or conspiratorial events Druon depicts, like Marguerite and Blanche taking lovers; Marguerite being strangled in prison; the poisoning of Guillaume de Nogaret, Louis X, “John I”, Mahaut of Artois, and her daughter Jeanne; and the massive (heh) role the dispute over the Artois inheritance had on the events of the books?

For the most part, Druon as the French academic he was, is quite accurate. But because he was writing historical fiction, he sometimes embellished. 

  • The Tour de Nesle Affair was quite real, and Marguerite was strangled to death by the executioner, according to one account by her own shroud, which is a nice Gothic touch.
  • It’s unclear whether Guillaume de Nogaret was poisoned; we do know that he died “with his tongue horribly thrust out,” which could mean a great many different things.
  • What part of Louis X’s story are you unsure about?
  • As far as Jon I goes, there was a real-life case where an Italian named  Giannino Baglioni claimed to be the true King of France during the reign of Jon II, was briefly given credence by the kings of Hungary, but then was arrested and died in prison. Druon thought it would be more fun if he really was the real Jon.
  • Mahaut’s feud with Robert over Artois was quite real, and not only did it lead to the events of the books, but it also played a quite pivotal role in starting the Hundred Years War. 

I just read that link on Henry VII and bonds, pretty interesting, thank you. Just one question, the article mentioned that Henry recieved money for knighting his son, could you please elaborate on this occurrence?

So this is an example of Henry VII looking back into the statute books to find old rights or powers that hadn’t been invoked in a while – in part because earlier kings had abused the hell out of them and in the process helped to provoke the Barons’ Revolt and the Magna Carta – and then using the hell out of them.

In this case, Henry VII was invoking the right of feudal aid. Feudal aid was a special one-time payment to be made to one’s liege lord on special occasions: when the oldest son became a knight, when the eldest daughter was to be married, when the lord was going on crusade or needed to be ransomed, etc. 

Henry VII missed few tricks, so not only did he invoke feudal aid when he knighted his eldest son Arthur, but when Arthur died and Henry became his new eldest son,  he did it again, and then again when he married his daughter to the King of Scotland. And each time, he raised the equivalent of at least £11-20 million pounds in today’s money. 

The Westerosi seem to be both religiously conservative while also surprisingly tolerant of prostitution (brothels operate openly, pay taxes and its not even a secret that a member of the small council operates one.) Is this realistic? how freely could sex workers work in medieval/renaissance europe?

Yep, it’s pretty realistic. There’s a pretty wide literature on the history of medieval prostitution, which is very interesting if you want to know more about the history of gender, sexuality, and culture, and I haven’t read more than just the basics. 

Here’s the short and simplified version: in Medieval Europe, prostitution was seen as a necessary evil, something that would prevent adultery, rape, masturbation, and sodomy (which were seen as more important sins). The Church wasn’t super happy about it, and preachers would try to persuade prostitutes to reform, but the Church wasn’t about to ban it (especially since a lot of clergymen made use of prostitutes since they weren’t allowed to get married). 

What did happen is that prostitution was regulated: in some places, it could only be done outside the city walls; in other places, it was restricted to certain streets or neighborhoods; in some places, there were civic brothels that were given a monopoly on the trade. 

How common historically were secret treaties like the marriage pact for Viserys and Arianne? It makes sense that you would want a heavy hitter with at least a veneer of impartiality as witness for an agreement like this (thus the Sealord rather than some random clerk from the Iron Bank), but were witnesses more likely to be strictly impartial, or were they usually involved to some degree? Thank you!

Secret treaties were absolutely commonplace for much of recorded history – hence why it was such a big deal when Woodrow Wilson put banning them as one of the first of his Fourteen Points during WWI . According to Chad Khal, there were no less than 593 such treaties made between 1521 and 2004. 

As for witnesses, that’s a bit more unusual. In no small part because they were so common, states just treated them like normal treaties, requiring only the signatures of the parties involved. You’d hardly want a lot of witnesses to a secret treaty, lest you compromise the treaty’s secrecy. 

Hi! Couple of questions: what does a steward actually do, and what were the real-world equivalents of maesters and Hands of the the King?

A steward is the chief servant of an estate: they are responsible for the condition of the buildings, the productivity of the land, whether the taxes are being paid, and at least in the early period, they were also in charge of the household and thus managed all the staff. 

However, the term can also be used to describe more illustrious offices: in the UK, the Lord Steward is one of the highest-ranking officials of the royal household and historically both carried out normal stewardly duties (for the king, mind you) and carried messages between King and Parliament and swore in new members of Parliament; the Lord High Steward is one of the Great Officers of State, outranking even the Lord Chancellor, responsible for bearing the crown during coronations, historically responsible for trials of peers in the Lords, and attached to the Earldom of Leicester since the 12th century. 

In Holland, Norway, Denmark, etc. the etymologically equivalent term – statholder – referred to an official appointed by a feudal lord (more often king) to govern part of their estate, essentially a royal governor. 

In the real world, the closest thing to maesters were university-educated priests, who were among the literate elite and thus invaluable in running both secular and church bureaucracies. There isn’t exactly a Hand of the King analogue, because historically no one gave out that many powers and authorities to just one man. The Hand is like the entire Privy Council rolled up into one.