Category: Other Page 119 of 177

John Frederick Rowbotham (1859–1925)

Rowbotham, John Frederick. A Scotch miscellaneous writer; born April 18, 1859; died in 1925. He resided in Germany several years, collecting material for his elaborate ‘History of Music’ (1885); after which he turned his attention to the study of mediæval poetry, and published ‘The Death of Roland: An Epic Poem’ (1887); ‘The Human Epic’ (1902); ‘The Epic of London’ (1908); ‘The Epic of God and the Devil’ (1911); ‘The Epic of the Empire’ (1914).

Source: John Frederick Rowbotham (1859-1925). Ayres, ed. 1917. The Reader’s Dictionary of Authors

The work contains a number of prophecies attributed to Merlin, the wizard of legend, whose mythical life is often regarded as created by Geoffrey himself although Geoffrey himself claims to have based on older Brittonic traditions some of which may have been oral but now lost. The Prophetiae preceded Geoffrey’s larger Historia Regum Britanniæ of c. 1136, and was mostly incorporated in it, in Book VII;[4] the prophecies, however, were influential and widely circulated in their own right. […]

When Geoffrey’s Historia was largely translated by Wace into the Roman de Brut, he omitted the material on Merlin’s prophecies, though he does profess knowledge of them.[7] […]

This work not only launched Merlin as a character of Arthurian legend: it also created a distinctively English style of political prophecy, called Galfridian, in which animals represent particular political figures.[9] Political prophecy in this style remained popular for at least 400 years. It was subversive, and the figure of the prophetic Merlin was strongly identified with it.[10] […]

In this work Geoffrey drew from the established bardic tradition of prophetic writing attributed to the sage Myrddin, though his knowledge of Myrddin’s story at this stage in his career appears to have been slight.[11] […]

Geoffrey apparently introduced the spelling “Merlin”, derived from the Welsh “Myrddin”. The Welsh scholar Rachel Bromwich observed that this “change from medial dd > l is curious. It was explained by Gaston Paris as caused by the undesirable associations of the French word merde”.[13]

Source: Prophetiae Merlini – Wikipedia

The Aeolians (/iːˈoʊliənz/; Greek: Αἰολεῖς) were one of the four major tribes in which Greeks divided themselves in the ancient period (along with the Achaeans, Dorians and Ionians). […]

Their name mythologically derives from Aeolus, the mythical ancestor of the Aeolic branch and son of Hellen, the mythical patriarch of the Greek nation. It actually comes from Greek aiolos meaning “quickly moving”.[1] The dialect of ancient Greek they spoke is referred to as Aeolic. […]

According to Herodotus, the Aeolians were previously called Pelasgians.[2]

Source: Aeolians – Wikipedia

The Dardanoi (Greek: Δάρδανοι; its anglicized modern terms being Dardanians or Dardans) in classical writings were either the same people as, or a people closely related to, the Trojans, an ancient people of the Troad, located in northwestern Anatolia. The Dardanoi derived their name from Dardanus, the mythical founder of Dardania, an ancient city in the Troad. Rule of the Troad was divided between Dardania and Troy. Homer makes a clear distinction between the Trojans and the Dardanoi.[1] […]

The Royal House of Troy was also divided into two branches, that of the Dardanoi, and that of the Trojans (their city being called Troy, or sometimes Ilion/Ilium). The House of the Dardanoi (its members being the Dardanids, Greek: Δαρδανίδαι; Latin: Dardanidae[2]) was older than the House of Troy, but Troy later became more powerful. Aeneas is referred to in Virgil’s Aeneid interchangeably as a Dardanian or as a Trojan, but strictly speaking, Aeneas was of the branch of the Dardanoi. Many rulers of Rome claimed descent from Aeneas and the Houses of Troy and Dardania.

Source: Dardanians (Trojan) – Wikipedia

Mergolech, who, along with Eradus, had voted against Murta’s proposed invasion of Quatria, immediately thereafter tried to amend the resolution to become an armed trade mission. The Lawspeaker reminded him that motions could only be amended prior to adoption, unless the councilors agreed to allow a vote. They did agree to allow a vote, with the initial support of Greppo, who had been on the prevailing side of the vote. But when the actual vote occurred, the measure was once again struck down in a 3-2 vote against modification, and so the fate of Quatria was sealed.

Observing Benda weeping openly, Mergolech stood up and reaffirmed his vow to protect Benda, Lualla and Sol as their rightful king. The matter did not require a motion or resolution, but the Lawspeaker nodded solemnly and said, “The Lawspeaker notes it. Let no lawful man oppose the right of kings.”

After a period of silence, Martis Ovnis spoke thus, “The Fourth and Fifth Kings have not had their full say, as have the others. May the Lawspeaker grant this under right of kings.”

“The Lawspeaker grants it,” he said.

“Whether by arms or by exchange, let us return then to this ancient land, and do justice by all under whatever conditions with which we are met. There remains, however, the matter of the spoils… It is proposed we divide the spoils and any lands lawfully taken under the rules of war equally amongst the Five Kingdoms.”

Martis Ovnis, who was very crafty, said this primarily because he knew that his small northern Kingdom of Edebia could not match the soldiery available to Kremel, or the ships of Cannaxus. And while his people might contribute less in the overall effort, he hoped he might still protect their gain to come.

To his surprise, Eradus said, “I second.” For he and his dear friend Benda, there was opening in their imaginations a devastation of an entire land and its people. He thought his even tinier kingdom claiming an equal stake in that future might help secure a one-fifth measure of justice. He deemed it better than potentially none at all.

The Lawspeaker held the matter of equity of spoils to a vote, and despite the inequalities in their relative forces, it passed unanimously for political reasons. Greppo, in particular, felt that this was the best manner to alleviate any potential division or disagreement amongst the Five Kingdoms as they moved forward together on this one path.

“If it please the Lawspeaker, the Fifth King demands now his allotted time,” proclaimed Eradus.

The Lawspeaker indicated he should proceed, and Eradus did so: “Upon finding upon the shores of Devera a bedraggled half-alive man alongside a strange foreign vessel, I dubbed this man without a name First Minstrel of the Realm of Devera. Since then we have faced many trials together, and his memory of his past and his identity have returned to him. While I recognize the right of his king to rule him, I also affirm his obligation as an officer of my court, to render me service, alongside the sable golek, King Machef, who I have also taken as valet.”

“The Lawspeaker recognizes it. Let no lawful man put asunder the right of kings,” said Outhne, the Lawspeaker.

“I cede the remainder of my time to Benda, if it be allowed.”

“The Lawspeaker allows it.”

Benda, eyes still wet with tears, said, “Ye gallant kings, you know not what you do. Never a more peaceful people have graced the Wide Lands than the people of Quatria, who spend their days dedicated to song, and against whom an irrational fear has been constructed out of illusions by a power-mad conjurer…”

“Hold thy tongue, demon!” cried out Murta, rising up in anger.

“The Lawspeaker absorbs any injury to honor, and prohibits further direct or indirect insult or slander.”

He added, as Outhne, the man, informally: “Sit down Murta. You have had your turn to speak, and your motion has won the day. Push not your luck.”

Red-faced, Murta sat down.

“Forgive me,” continued Benda, “for I love those people like my own. If I am to be a citizen of the place of my choosing, let it be there, though I shirk no obligation to others in so saying. It is a question of loyalty to where the heart truly dwells. When my men and I were lost in a storm-at-sea, those people took us in, and joined us intimately with their lives, loves, songs, and festivals. They know not hate, nor even can comprehend violence. Their only swords are dull pageant accessories. Their only war cries are the songs of their hearts which they lift day and night in joyful exultation.”

“I shall take you there if I must – though I truly do not know the way – but in exchange then I beseech you all in your power and majesty to do them no harm. Do them no violence. Welcome you they will with open arms, and the joy of long lost brothers, cousins, friends, and mothers. Let neither fear nor greed guide this mission, or it will bring about too your own ruin. I yield my time.”

“Though I am not bound by the rules of men,” spoke a voice then in the hearts of the assembled participants, “I request too my allotted time under the right of kings.” The councilors and Lawspeaker looked about, and realized that the mindspeaker was Machef.

“The Lawspeaker grants it,” he said aloud.

Machef spoke then, in their hearts thus, “It is true that Benda does not know the way, for I have seen into his heart, just as I have seen into each of yours. Let then the Wayteller speak, and let us embark at once upon this foolhardy quest. Though it will bring you not what you think, it will bring upon each what is owed after the purity of his heart. I yield my time.”

Greppo, stirred, spoke up, “What the mindspeaker says is true. The Way has not been forgotten by the long memory of the Citadel. It’s mystery is contained still in the Scroll of Omounna, whose vessel landed upon these shores so long ago, and which the Iabolex came down out of the mountains and cracked like an egg. The child born to her among our people was called Embatet, and he grew at a pace unmatched among our people. Each week for him was like a year, and he ate enough for ten men, and within a few months, he was a full grown man himself. He took then Scroll from his mother, and deciphering it, ruled under the signs of its wisdom, building first the original fortress, then the Citadel, and later City of Kremel.”

“A legend recorded in that scroll describes in occult terms the way back to the land of his mother, Kwetuoria, or as we know it today, Quatria. When the Four Ships people came, they came primarily seeking after Omounna, having realized in their hearts the wrong they had done by putting her out to sea. They came in our time many centuries later, though in their according to the arrow of time in that land, not very much time had passed all. Unknown to them, she and her son were long since dead, and many generations had passed. None among our people had ever attempted the return trip outlined by the scroll prior. And once the Four Ships people had come, there was no reason to try to get back to Quatria, for we entered a Golden Age here in Kremel under their influence.”

“After the tumult of their departure, we thought not to go to that land either. We sought only rather the settling of affairs to rights amongst the Five Kingdoms. Besides, according to the legend contained within the scroll, the Gate of Song would neither appear nor open for us without its key…”

“In which direction shall we sail then?” asked Mergolech. Though his people were not illustrious seafarers, they were hardy fishermen, and knew the waters all about Kremel, parts of Ner and far Ablem. “We know these waters, but know not this Gate of Song you speak of.”

“Simply put,” said Greppo, “we sail in the Lost Direction.”

“We Drynareans know only four directions,” said Eradus, “Though some would divide those each into two, for a total of eight. We know of no Lost Direction.”

“Our tales speak of it,” said Mergolech. “The name we use is Buorthus. It is said to lead to the sea-bridge, which connects the waters below to the waters above – the realm of the Sky Lords. Is Quatria then in the heavens above?”

“Nay,” said Benda. “It is a most real and earthly place. But I traversed there and back again using neither bridge nor gate, but only storm-at-sea.”

“The place is called Tetharys,” said Greppo, “Where the Gate of Song stands on open ocean. In the scrolls it is described as two enormous white pillars, and it is guarded by jealous storm gods, though it is said they will let the Righteous Keyholder pass and open the way for others.”

So it was decided then that after five days, they would depart in three of the largest ships in the small fleet of the Citadel, and sail into the Lost Direction, towards the Buorth, and whatever lay beyond. To counter-act the possible magical effects of the storms-at-sea which protected Tetharys and the Gate of Song, their ships would sail in a single column, one after the other, with chains linking one to the next. Wherever the ship containing Benda, the Keyholder, would be taken off to, they trusted in these stout chains to pull them along safely through as well.

SOURCE: “Historia Regum Britanniae: Book III, Chapter 19“, Geoffrey of Monmouth (1136), Translated by Aaron Thompson & J. A. Giles (1842)

TEXT:

“Then succeeded Urianus,^[33] the son of Andragius; after whom reigned in order, Eliud,^[34]Cledaucus,^[35]Cletonus,^[36]Gurgintius,^[37]Merianus,^[38]Bleduno,^[39]Cap,^[40]Oenus,^[41]Sisillius,^[42]Blegabred.^[43] This last prince, in singing and playing upon musical instruments, excelled all the musicians that had been before him, so that he seemed worthy of the title of the God of Jesters. After him reigned Arthmail,^[44] his brother; […]”

SOURCE: List of Legendary Kings of Britain

Listed as equivalent of Beldgabred (Geoffrey of Monmouth)

Beldgabred (Welsh: Blegywyrd) was a legendary king of the Britons as accounted by Geoffrey of Monmouth. He was preceded by Sisillius III and succeeded by his brother Archmail. Geoffrey says that Beldgabred surpassed all other musicians on every kind of instrument and was claimed to be the god of minstrels.[1]

Source: Beldgabred – Wikipedia

The following list of legendary kings of Britain derives predominantly from Geoffrey of Monmouth’s circa 1136 work Historia Regum Britanniae (“the History of the Kings of Britain”). Geoffrey constructed a largely fictional history for the Britons (ancestors of the Welsh, the Cornish and the Bretons), partly based on the work of earlier medieval historians like Gildas, Nennius and Bede, partly from Welsh genealogies and saints’ lives, partly from sources now lost and unidentifiable, and partly from his own imagination (see bibliography). Several of his kings are based on genuine historical figures, but appear in unhistorical narratives. A number of Middle Welsh versions of Geoffrey’s Historia exist. All post-date Geoffrey’s text, but may give us some insight into any native traditions Geoffrey may have drawn on.

Geoffrey’s narrative begins with the exiled Trojan prince Brutus, after whom Britain is supposedly named, a tradition previously recorded in less elaborate form in the 9th century Historia Brittonum. Brutus is a descendant of Aeneas, the legendary Trojan ancestor of the founders of Rome, and his story is evidently related to Roman foundation legends.

The kings before Brutus come from a document purporting to trace the travels of Noah and his offspring in Europe, and once attributed to the Chaldean historian Berossus, but now considered to have been a fabrication by the 15th-century Italian monk Annio da Viterbo, who first published it. Renaissance historians like John Bale and Raphael Holinshed took the list of kings of “Celtica” given by pseudo-Berossus and made them into kings of Britain as well as Gaul. John Milton records these traditions in his History of Britain, although he gives them little credence.

Source: List of legendary kings of Britain – Wikipedia

Historia regum Britanniae (The History of the Kings of Britain), originally called De gestis Britonum (On the Deeds of the Britons), is a pseudohistorical account of British history, written around 1136 by Geoffrey of Monmouth. It chronicles the lives of the kings of the Britons over the course of two thousand years, beginning with the Trojans founding the British nation and continuing until the Anglo-Saxons assumed control of much of Britain around the 7th century. It is one of the central pieces of the Matter of Britain.

Although taken as historical well into the 16th century,[1] it is now considered to have no value as history. When events described, such as Julius Caesar’s invasions of Britain, can be corroborated from contemporary histories, Geoffrey’s account can be seen to be wildly inaccurate. It remains, however, a valuable piece of medieval literature, which contains the earliest known version of the story of King Lear and his three daughters, and helped popularise the legend of King Arthur.

Source: Historia Regum Britanniae – Wikipedia