History YouTube Channels

 

One of my favourite ways to procrastinate is watching YouTube channels, usually on the subjects of history, fantasy, or videogames. When I have time to kill, or sandwiches to vanquish, I normally have a video on, reminding me of past events or teaching me about new ones. Here are a few that I like, which may be of interest to you:

Flash Point History

This is far and away the newest one (to me) on my list as I only discovered it today, and have already watched the first three parts of the Reconquista. In addition to many videos (including subjects such as the Eastern Roman Empire and Spain), there are also podcasts so if you prefer audio to visual then this is just the ticket.

https://www.youtube.com/@FlashPointHx

Serapeum

The second newest to me is a history channel largely focused on the Western and Eastern Roman Empire. Serapeum also has videos on Alexander his Successors/Diadochi, so if Eastern European and Near Eastern history is your cup of tea this might be right up your street. The Byzantine/Eastern Roman Empire can be a shade neglected relative to its Western counterpart, so this is also a very good channel for bridging that gap.

https://www.youtube.com/@Serapeum

History Marche

One that I’ve watched for a long time is more focused on the military side of things, and covers everything from the Punic Wars to medieval battles and clashes in India and Japan. While most things are in Europe this does offer a great degree of breadth, and the time frame ranges from the ancient world to the 20^th century (although most videos are earlier than this). Fans of warfare and battle maps will probably like this a lot.

https://www.youtube.com/@HistoryMarche/videos

Modern History TV

This is a bit different as all the others are effectively maps of political/military events with voiceover. Modern History TV is fronted by Jason Kingsley and covers practical history, learning by doing in many cases. Weirdly, two of the most interesting videos I found on the channel included waxed linen (effectively medieval cling film) and rush lights (cheaper than candles). There’s also plenty on swords, riding, and little things that can only be learnt in a practical way, such as wagons have their own unique melody of creaks, or how the shape of a mule’s back makes riding it a little different to riding a horse.

https://www.youtube.com/@ModernKnight

Anyway, these are some of the channels I’ve found most interesting to watch, so perhaps they’ll be entertaining for you as well.

Thaddeus

Crusader Kings 3: Reading Recommendations

It isn’t long now until the current-gen consoles get some more grand strategy in the form of Paradox’s Crusader Kings 3. As someone into history, and enjoying strategy games coming to consoles, this is right up my street.

The game can start in 867 AD or 1066 AD, and I know a little of British (and, to an extent, European/Near East/North African) history of that period. Fairly poor on the rest, and given the map includes all of Europe, the northern half of the African continent, and most of Asia there’s a lot of new stuff to explore.

If you’re into the backstory and want to learn more, here are some reading recommendations, with links to full reviews of each book indicated.

 

The Norman Conquest, by Marc Morris

This is a fantastic book, and probably my favourite by the historian (I own four of his works). Not only does this detail what goes on in 1066, one of the most important years in British history, it also explains what happened beforehand and for decades afterwards, providing plenty of context.

 

 

 

Byzantium: The Apogee (book 2 in a trilogy), by John Julius Norwich

This entire trilogy is a riveting tale of the Eastern Roman Empire, which was a yawning chasm of ignorance in my understanding of Europe before I read it. All of it is worth checking out, but both start years are covered by a single volume, The Apogee. This covers, unsurprisingly, the high point of the Eastern Roman (also known as the Byzantine) Empire and, of course, their allies and enemies over this period.

 

Viking: The Norse Warrior’s (Unofficial) Manual, by John Haywood

A slightly more lighthearted book this one, and part of a fun yet informative series. To dive into Norse culture and the raiding military antics of the time (covering both start dates), this is one of the shorter and easier reads on the list, but still does much to shine a light on the Vikings and their impact on wider Europe (most notably in Normandy and England, as well as setting up numerous cities in Ireland).

 

Alfred the Great: The Man Who Made England, by Justin Pollard

This biography covers one of England’s most important kings. While technically never ruler of all England, he and his brother halted the seemingly unstoppable Viking advance and drove it back, thereby increasing the power of Wessex. Alfred’s reign started a few years after the earlier start date in CK3, but it’s still a wonderful book and one that goes a long way to painting a picture of a very different England.

 

The Inheritance of Rome: A History of Europe from 400 to 1000, by Chris Wickham

This is easily the broadest book on the list, covering not only Europe but north Africa and parts of the East over a period of centuries. It’s one of the best histories I’ve read and does a great job bridging the gap between the Western Roman world and the medieval era. If you ever want to understand why Europe was the way it was when the earlier start date comes about, look no further.

 

The Anglo-Saxons: A History of the Beginnings of England, by Marc Morris

Another Marc Morris history, this one covers almost the exact same period as Wickham but looks at England and, thus, the Anglo-Saxons. If you want a more specific look at England, this is what you’re after (note it ends right before the Battle of Hastings).

 

Thaddeus

Review: The Anglo-Saxons: A History of the Beginnings of England, by Marc Morris

I’ve got a few books by the author, this being the fourth, and, as with the others, this is an easy to read book so whether you’re looking to bridge the Roman-Norman gap on your bookshelf or are buying this as a first foray into history it’s a sound purchase.

The period covered includes a useful section preceding the arrival of Angles and Saxons explaining what the Roman state of play was, their departure, and the unexpectedly ‘free’ Britons of the 5^th century AD. From there it goes up to the Norman Conquest but there’s little after 1066 (although the author does have an excellent book dedicated to the Norman Conquest which I can heartily recommend).

After the Romans left, the central authority was gone and trade declined substantially. This impoverished and weakened Britain and enabled the Saxons, and others, to roll up, invade, and carve out significant territory (more or less modern day England). After a brief period of many low level ‘nobles’ power began to be aggregated into larger realms by aggressive kings. As time passed, the number of kingdoms declined and the power of individual kings waxed. And then the Vikings showed up and everything went arse over kettle.

It was interesting to read how the heptarchy, which I’ve often heard of, is more or less fictional, a simplification based on something existent in a brief period of time during significant political flux.

Maps are presented roughly at the start of each chapter and reflect the changing political state of play, which fluctuates wildly from the start to the finish. Useful for both British and non-British readers as there are some places that either don’t exist any more or were far more important in the past than they are today (it’s surprising how many settlements have lasted the millennium or more to still be around).

Incidentally, anyone after a similar time frame (400-1000 AD) but covering a much wider geographical area should definitely consider Chris Wickham’s The Inheritance of Rome, which is a cracking book.

Thaddeus

Review: The Middle Ages (Everyday Life in Medieval Europe), by Jeffrey L. Singman

Recently, as a belated (for obvious reasons) Christmas present I received The Middle Ages (Everyday Life in Medieval Europe) by Jeffrey L. Singman. As I found Ian Mortimer’s The Time Traveller’s Guide to Medieval England very engaging I had high hopes for this. Did it fulfil them?

In a word, yes.

The period covered is a little broader than Mortimer’s 14^th century, covering the high Middle Ages (10^th to early 14^th). It’s also, interestingly, both more and less focused, using examples from across western and northern Europe. But the two-thirds of the book dedicated to specific chapters on life in village, castle, monastery, and town use specific examples from history to explore what life was like (in England for the first two and France for the latter two).

It’s a very easy to read book, with helpful information presented in tables (how much English/French money was worth, prices, the monastic calendar etc). Unusual terms are explained, and the author does a very good job of putting the reader in a medieval person’s shoes. If you’re into world-building then this would be a very worthwhile book to buy. But even if you’re not, it’s highly engaging, with many little details that help bring the dim and distant past alive (monks were only allowed to run if one of them was about to imminently die, or the monastery was on fire, for example).

In addition to the specific setting chapters there are a few others covering a more general medieval worldview, and certain big differences that might not be immediately obvious (labour and land were cheap, objects were very expensive so possessions tended to be far fewer than today).

Very interesting book, and well worth reading.

 
Thaddeus

Review: A Brief History of Life in the Middle Ages, by Martyn Whittock

This book was a delightful gift I received recently, and one I read rather rapidly.

The time period covered is pretty broad, although as the author acknowledges a lot can be argued about when the Middle Ages starts and when it ends (personally, I always liked the view that the Middle Ages is the period of time from the fall of the Roman Empire until the fall of the Roman Empire). In this book it covers pre-Conquest Anglo-Saxon England all the way until the middle of the 16^th century.

The broader approach taken allows for a look at what changed over the centuries and what stuck around for a long time (indeed, part of the reason the end date was chosen was because of the founding of the Church of England which ended many longstanding practices).

Topics covered include diet, the cultural/religious calendar, and the role of women. I found especially interesting the section on lepers and the way different people of the same era might consider them holy (suffering purgatory on Earth, effectively) or sinful (punished by God with disease). Similarly, the general demographics were of interest, as England’s population had an effective cap that wasn’t really surpassed until the Industrial Revolution rolled around.

The author does make use of ancestral examples here and there, but they always fit into and add to the history rather than being awkward (in short, they’re not an act of conceit, but of explanatory use).

Map fans have a few at the front, though it should be stressed both the maps and the book itself focus on England.

If you’re after a broad scale overview covering an extensive period of time, this book will suit you rather well. If you’re after a more boots-on-the-ground and/or time-specific (14^th century) then you may prefer Ian Mortimer’s The Time Traveller’s Guide to Medieval England.

Thaddeus

Review: The Hundred Years War, by Alan Lloyd

Written in the 1970s, this book is about 170 pages and covers the entirety of the war. Naturally, that means it has to skimp on detail in places (although the battles are well-described and I did learn some interesting facts I didn’t know previously, such as France’s population at the time being roughly three or four times that of England).

There’s plenty of medieval artwork (although the Henry IV portrait actually isn’t him, according to a much more recent biography of said monarch by Ian Mortimer) and maps, which are clear and helpful, are peppered throughout the pages.

The general ebb and flow of this prolonged contest, which was as much down to who happened to be king of either side as anything that happened on the battlefield, is well-described, and I’m glad the relatively low number of battles was gotten across, as was the development of siege weaponry and varying martial habits (from brutalising the peasantry to trying to win them over through restrained behaviour).

I liked reading the book, though it should be stressed this isn’t an exhaustive account (or, indeed, an attempt at one) so it’s perhaps best as an overview or introduction. Other general books of that nature, with more detail, include Philippe Contamine’s War in the Middle Ages (reviewed here), and Christopher Allmand’s The Hundred Years War (reviewed here).

There’s also Ian Mortimer’s excellent biography of Edward III (The Perfect King, reviewed here), which covers about half the conflict.

Thaddeus

Review: The Inheritance of Rome, by Chris Wickham

For a while I’ve wanted a book that bridged the classical-medieval gap, so this book, subtitled ‘A History of Europe from 400 to 1000’ seemed ideal.

And what a book it is. Taking us from the Western Empire’s latter decades to its disintegration, the fragmentation of power across Europe, the continuation, decline and rise again of the Eastern Empire, the birth of the Caliphate, its rise and fragmentation, England’s weakness and rise, the Merovingian and Carolingian peaks of Francia, the ebb and flow of power being centralised and divided.

Practically the whole of Europe is considered. The ancient equivalents of France, England, Spain, Germany and Italy get most coverage, with a lot about the early Caliphate and Eastern Roman Empire too. Ireland and Scandinavia are also written about, a little less, and other parts of Europe (mostly eastern) are covered in less detail due to less evidence.

The book proceeds in chronological order, with differing parts having a different geographical focus. This works very well for keeping a tight enough focus to avoid the work becoming a sprawling mess, which could easily have happened, whilst at the same time providing the reader with a great breadth of information across both space and time.

The heart of the book is political, with the church, wider culture, and the economy also featuring heavily. It’s not militarily focused but significant military effects (perhaps most notably the rise of the Caliphate in the East, and Carolingian expansion in the West) are included where they impact upon politics, culture, and/or economy. Changes both between powers and within them (the relative power of kings, aristocrats and peasants, and how that altered over time) are considered.

I was wryly amused when the author criticised those who used ‘value-laden’ terms such as ‘prosperity’ when describing the changing nature of the peasantry up to 1000 AD, as the condemnation came in a chapter entitled ‘The Caging of the Peasantry’.

The maps, at the front of the book, are excellent, covering multiple geographical areas and time periods.

Downsides are few. Occasionally there’s slight clunkiness in phrasing, and I saw one mistake that’s obvious (the suggestion heading west from Dublin takes you to Great Britain) but otherwise there isn’t much to criticise. I do remember having some doubts regarding particular interpretations of history, but I do not see this as a flaw, as there are many valid but differing opinions regarding the past, especially periods for which documented evidence is limited. Although I didn’t necessarily agree with all the author’s views, they all seemed to me to be valid and reasonable.

This is not ideal as an entry level book for someone just getting into history, but for those with some background knowledge of classical and/or medieval history, and looking for something between those periods, it’s well worth reading.

Thaddeus

Through the Looking Glass

A while ago, there was some ‘controversy’ when Warhorse Studios, the chaps behind the game Kingdom Come Deliverance (set in Bohemia [roughly the Czech Republic] in 1403), were criticised because everyone in it was white. The game’s set in a small geographical area, and everyone being white then is realistic, which is the angle that’s strongly pushed at every level in KCD. Larger cities were more cosmopolitan, but there’s no equivalent of Prague or Vienna in the game. In my view, those wanting diversity were simply trying to impose modern standards on historical reality (which isn’t necessarily unreasonable if you have a fast and loose approach to history, but the whole KCD game was focused on being realistic).

But it did get me thinking. Sometimes, people want to impose modern social, moral norms on historical works of media, whether videogames, film, TV etc. But what if it happened in reverse? What if we had a roughly medieval mindset, and assessed modern works by that standard?

In Stargate: Atlantis, female cast members often have bare arms. That would be frowned upon. (Plunging cleavage, not a problem, but biceps? Titillating beyond acceptability). There’s also a lot of loose hair. Again, at some periods in history this was rather indicative of, er, prostitution (as were the bare arms). A medieval person, once having gotten over the witchcraft of television, would be bemused to see this.

In the West, there’s generally been a decrease in formality between higher and lower status people (thinking primarily of working relationships, but also in those wonderful countries that still benefit from the splendidness of monarchy). This lack of formality would seem quite odd to those of a medieval mindset, where one’s social superior (local lord, say) could be the man sitting in judgement on you one day, and it paid to show due deference.

Medieval attitudes to vegans would be interesting to observe. Animal cruelty was pretty widespread, yet meat wasn’t eaten on around half the days of the year (it was permanently banned on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, as well as being forbidden on certain holy days). Voluntarily not eating meat might be seen as indicative of religious devotion.

Sticking with food, being fat was seen as a sign of prosperity. In a world where one bad harvest can kill the frail and two bad harvests can destroy peasant villages, having sufficient food to not merely meet but exceed needs was proof of wealth. Paler skin was also indicative of high status, as more time was spent indoors rather than working the fields. Thinner people (generally but not always considered more attractive these days) were seen as less attractive because it was down to lack of food, rather than an aesthetic choice.

Despite certain glass-ceiling smashing memes, women have had leading roles in sci-fi for quite some time (Ripley, Janeway, Samantha Carter, etc). In a world where petty treason makes it a criminal offence for a wife to disobey her husband, and which could be successfully used by a woman ordered to commit a crime to escape legal punishment, this would probably be seen as really rather odd. That said, there were exceptions in medieval times (Black Agnes commanded a Scottish castle when her husband was away, defying English attempts to capture it, for example) but it’d still seem rather peculiar in medieval eyes.

The absence of references to God would be utterly perplexing. Excepting the odd expression (“Thank God for that” etc), most people hardly ever refer to God in day to day conversation. Obviously religious people do more often, but even that would be dramatically less than was usual for medieval England, which was steeped in Christianity.

Which brings us to an ugly aspect of medieval thinking: widespread dislike of the Jews. Jews came over with William the Conqueror in 1066, and suffered particularly during the reigns of John and Edward I. They were generally concentrated in a small number of urban centres, mostly London, and were pretty well-off due to usury (the forerunner of modern banking). However, this was against Christian teaching at the time, so, whilst economically beneficial for the Jews, and also more widely, the wealth was achieved through acts against Christian doctrine, by a minority. Sadly, the average medieval fellow watching TV showing anti-Jewish behaviour might be more likely to side with the bigot than the victim.

It’s almost as if imposing the moral and social attitudes of one time period on another, far removed, is a daft thing to do…

Thaddeus

Advantages for Women in the Middle Ages

As a rule, life in the Middle Ages was rubbish. It was especially rubbish if you were poor, and even more rubbish if you were a poor woman. Often there was overt sexism (you were expected to obey your father, then your husband) and sometimes it was a bit more subtle (sometimes a guild would allow a woman to own a business but not be self-employed).

However, there were some upsides for women.

Petty treason had a few definitions, one of which was a woman refusing to obey her husband. That’s bad. But there’s a flip side. If a man and wife are found guilty of committing crime, the wife can say she was ordered by her husband to do bad things. What’s she expected to do? Disobedience would be treason. The man will hang, the wife will not.

Sticking with crime, there were a couple of special pleas available. One was to plead clergy, meaning one had to demonstrate the ability to read, and get shunted to a softer clerical court. The other was to plead pregnancy. A woman would be examined and, if considered to be pregnant, any sentence of death would be delayed until after the birth. There was always a chance that the sentence might just be dropped entirely.

There was quite a lot of war in the Middle Ages, including the Hundred Years’ War. Edward III (and others) called up huge armies to cross the Channel and introduce the French to the excitement of English archery. But those armies, risking death and injury in war, and pestilence in camp, were almost entirely men. Woman weren’t dragged on pain of hanging across the sea to wage war.

Domestic violence is not a good thing, yet it was broadly accepted in the Middle Ages. A man beating his wife was not unusual. But if he went too far neighbours and family might put a stop to it. A woman kicking the crap out of her husband, however, would lead not to sympathy and sorrow for him, but mockery and contempt.

Despite the low life expectancy, many kings lived long lives (Henry III, Edward I, and Edward III collectively reigned for 141 years). But there was a problem for them in particular, and men in general. Men were meant to be strong and vigorous, able to defend their home and kingdom (the king, of course, leading this). An old man was worn out and feeble, weak and decrepit, lingering with the mantle of power but lacking the frame to fill it. Old age was not good for men. It was good for women. Longevity gave them the reputation of wisdom, (hence ‘wise women’) as women did most of the healing and nursing, and older women had a great store of knowledge.

I certainly wouldn’t claim life was better for women than for men in the Middle Ages. Property law, inheritance, petty treason, risk of death in childbirth, all made things rather horrid, even without delving into general problems men faced too (high mortality, risk of famine every bad harvest etc). But, as with almost everything, it’s not entirely black and white, and it’s interesting to consider the nuances.

Thaddeus

Review: The Time Traveller’s Guide to Restoration Britain, by Ian Mortimer

This is the third Time Traveller’s Guide that Ian Mortimer has written, the previous two being of Medieval and then Elizabethan England. They’re completely self-contained, but I thought it worth mentioning in case anyone reading this preferred to get them in chronological order.

The Time Traveller’s Guide to Restoration Britain is a sort of everyday history, relating the habits of people high and low through the latter half the 17^th century, when the monarchy was restored after the censorious puritanism of Cromwell’s reign. Innovations and advancement are everywhere, as Newton, Purcell, and Wren set to work furthering the boundaries of science, music, and architecture (the latter ‘aided’ by the Great Fire of London in 1666).

It is in this period that superstition really buckles beneath the weight of science, or starts to, at least. Speech becomes freer as newspapers spring up and a short-lived attempt at regulation ends, enabling a free press (which has continued to this day). Literacy rises, transport is improved with flying coaches and the impressively swift postal service. The plague sees its last occurrence on British shores, doctors soar in number, and women begin to break into art, acting, and other fields.

But it also sees terrible fires, the coldest winter ever, political turmoil when James II is deposed, the ongoing battle between puritans and those who preferred a freer society and many attitudes we would consider horrendous today (a love of cockfighting, religious segregation, kidnapping people for enforced servitude on ships/in colonies etc).

Ian Mortimer tells of life from the very richest to the very poorest, what people ate, how they lived, what work they did, and how the country changed so dramatically from the austere reign of Cromwell to the flamboyant Charles II (and his successors). It’s engaging and places you in the boots of the 17^th people he describes.

This did throw up an interesting question. Until quite recently I didn’t give books specific ratings (on a personal level, I dislike them because a small problem for one reader is a deal-breaker for another, but do appreciate that others find such things useful). How to define a five star book? Something nigh on perfect? Something that’s 81% or better?

Regardless, I believe this excellent book, full of interesting snippets of information and insightful commentary, to be a five star book.

Thaddeus

Review: Kingdom Come Deliverance (PS4)

As the title indicates, I played this on the PS4 (an old, fat one). At the time of finishing the game, the 1.3 patch had not released, and I played the game to completion once.

Story

The premise of the story is thus: King Wenceslas has been kidnapped by his half-brother Sigismund, King of Hungary, who has rolled up in Bohemia 1403 to stir up trouble. As Henry, the son of a blacksmith, you find yourself embroiled in the turmoil that’s turning your kingdom upside down.

The story has a very adult tone, with plenty of violence and strong swearing (not one for the kiddiwinks) and a small amount of sex. The twists and turns of the story fit together nicely, and also offer the opportunity for a variety of gameplay (at differing times being easier or harder depending on whether you’re focusing on eloquence, stealth, or being hard as nails). Characters are three-dimensional, with some figures being both likeable yet also somewhat dickish.

Gameplay

In many areas, the gameplay is a significant deviation from what I’m used to. Combat and lockpicking are drastically different to other RPGs I’ve played, although horses and speech mostly works along established lines. There’s also an embedded (you can’t toggle it off) survival element requiring Henry to be adequately fed and rested, but this isn’t onerous (it’s much easier to handle than Fallout 4’s survival mode). It also plays into the feature of saving upon sleeping in a bed (after much, entirely correct, griping from players the game has had an exit save feature patched in).

Combat includes fisticuffs as well as armed (with a variety of weapons). A nice touch is that weapon stats can suit different play styles. I’m quite a stabby fellow, and there was one sword I had that was a bit flimsy but had great piercing power, so it suited my approach rather well.

There are five areas to aim cuts for, plus a stab option. Enemy attacks can be parried, and your own strokes can be chained together (combos are attainable via perks). Enemy skill can vary quite a bit. In the mid- and late-game being attacked by bandits was quite fun, because I was armoured like a tank yet being attacked by two scruffy blokes armed with sticks. It did not end well for them. The very different combat style did take me a while to get used to. Likewise the bow, for which there is no targeting reticule at all. At first I was atrocious (and a disgrace to the memory of English archers), but through a certain quest I fathomed out by practice the way to do it. In the end, I enjoyed the combat a lot.

Lockpicking was something I never got to grips with (this was patched, though I haven’t tried it with the update). As per most people, I could knock off a lock in Skyrim with ease, but I never picked a single lock in KCD (you have to rotate the mechanism with one analogue stick and keep the lockpick in the same relative position by moving the other analogue stick). Mind you, I was also playing as a virtuous hero, so it didn’t come up often either.

Moving to more familiar approaches, horses work very similarly to The Witcher 3. You can buy/loot swankier gear (more saddlebags means your horse can take on more gear, which is very useful when looting corpses that have valuable amour), and holding down the right button ensures they follow the road. You can also enswankify your steed with colourful caparisons, which is a nice cosmetic touch. Whilst you can buy (or steal) new horses, I stuck with my faithful Pebbles throughout the game. Like Roach in The Witcher 3, Pebbles is a demonic central European horse that can be magically summoned (indeed, some people believe the two games are part of an unofficial series about demon horses saving the world whilst transporting self-absorbed human ‘heroes’, but that’s clearly silly...).

Speech checks happen in three ways, based on eloquence, dignity (how fancy your clothes etc are), and intimidation. The eloquence check is used most frequently but all three are legitimate approaches and (playing a nice and articulate first game) I often made quite a bit of headway just speaking well.

A really nice feature is that you can’t just ignore an urgent quest and expect no consequence (sorry, wounded people. I just never got around to healing you and, er, most of you died as a result). It’s entirely possible to fail quests because you’re too busy dicking around elsewhere.

Graphics

The overall graphical quality is so-so. I’m not fussy about graphics, and they did the job well enough, though they could be better.

I really like the consistent medieval art style. The map is obviously a stand out feature, but everything from item labels to the menu has that historical feel to it.

Textures often took a long time to decide they wanted to show up. There was some clipping, although with a layered armour system I think some degree of leeway for that is reasonable. Pop-in did happen sometimes, and could be horrendous upon fast travelling (the monastery at Sasau appearing out of nowhere was vaguely comical).

Sound

In line with the graphics approach, there’s a pleasing ring of authenticity to the sound (and who doesn’t like the sound of hooves clopping over a wooden bridge?).

Music felt like it fit into the time period (although not being 620 years old I can’t swear to that) and helped reinforce the sense of historical realism. Sound effects were well done.

Voice-acting varied a bit, but the main characters were well done and Hans Capon’s voice actor in particular did a cracking job. I was mostly terribly nice, but on rare occasions I had Henry be a thug, and the protagonist’s voice actor had a great range.

Longevity and replayability

I’ve heard estimates the main story is 35 hours, with 70 hours total if you do all the side quests. That sounds broadly right, as I’d guess I put about 50 hours into it. Actions can have serious consequences and most quests of significance had varying routes to the objective (not all of which are flagged up, the game rewards player initiative). Not sure if I’ll replay immediately, but I do think a second game as a sneaky, murderous git could be fun.

Bugs and Other Issues

With modern games this is always tricky because there can be many patches. I completed the game before the 1.03 patch came out (believe it’s 1.05 on the PS4) which fixed various issues and also made lockpicking easier.

I encountered a fair few bugs. Most of these were comical (I once got thrown twenty or thirty feet in the air during a fight, and suffered no fall damage) but a few were irksome. One main quest didn’t start (it worked upon a later attempt) and another time a significant quest line didn’t work because for some reason I couldn’t question a certain man (I could, however, murder him). The multiple paths through quests enabled me to get around this, but it was less than ideal.

During the time I played the game, I suffered one crash.

Importantly, the game includes a minor character voiced by Brian Blessed. Sadly, he never once shouted “Chiswick, fresh horses!” or “Gordon’s alive?!”. I hope this can be corrected in future games (as sequels seem eminently possible).

Conclusion

The meat of Kingdom Come Deliverance is delicious and original, yet the crockery is chipped and some of the sauce has been spilled. Bugs and some clunkiness (waiting for graphics to load) do take the shine off a little. However, the core of the game, the story and gameplay, are great. I’m into history, so this particularly appeals to me, and the attention to detail and historical realism are a fantastic new approach to videogames. At the time of writing, it’s still £44 on Amazon, so if you haven’t bought it yet you may be better off waiting for the price to drop (giving more time for patches too). But when you do play it, you’ll find a great game waiting for you. I hope there’s a sequel, as hinted by the ending, and that KCD helps inspire more historical videogames.

It’s also the only videogame whose promotion led me to win a Hungarian silver denar, which is nice (more rambling on it here).

Thaddeus

PS Apologies for the lack of a bug/blooper video. I did make one but discovered I can't upload a video exceeding 100MB (I could create a whole Youtube channel for that, but for a single vid that's excessive faffery).

Kingdom Come Deliverance: early thoughts on realism versus micromanagement [PS4]

Kingdom Come Deliverance is an open world RPG, but unlike most of the genre it’s set in a real time/place (Bohemia [roughly, the Czech Republic], 1403) and has a heavy emphasis on realism. So, no magic, no dragons, the buildings actually visited, photographed and presented in game as close to reality as possible, etc.

Now, the realism slant has intrigued a lot of people but also divided them. Some think of historical immersion and want to throw themselves into the early 15^th century. Others think it’s going to mean a lot of micromanagement.

The game is out for PC, PS4 and Xbox One, and the version I’m playing is for the PS4.

I’ve been following this game’s development for a long time, and here are my early thoughts on Kingdom Come Deliverance, specifically focusing on the realism aspect. For comparisons, I’ll largely reference Fallout 4’s survival mode, because a huge number of people have played that and, as an open world RPG, it’s broadly similar.

Sleeping/saving:

There are only three ways to save: automatic checkpoints, drinking a Saviour Schnapps (you get given some of these early on), and sleeping in a bed. I like most aspects of realism in the game, but this one needs a small tweak. As with the Fallout 4 survival mode, the addition of an exit save would be immensely beneficial because if you’ve played through a tough half hour but you know the nearest save point is some way off it’s not great to be faced with a choice of giving up all that progress *or* slogging through when you have other things to do. Until/unless they had the exit save feature, I’d recommend being cunning and always having Saviour Schnapps on you, and use them as an emergency exit save option. The alternative is to power nap. You can just sleep for an hour in the middle of the day to save it.

Eating/drinking:

Nourishment happens much more on a graded curve than Fallout 4, which had a smaller number of more severe steps. In addition, it’s possible to over-eat (as I discovered after consuming my bodyweight in cheese and apples) but that’s also entirely avoidable (you just need to keep an eye on your Nourishment number. Food is commonplace, inexpensive, and whilst most of it goes off (meat lasts a couple of days, fruit the best part of a week) it’s never been a problem. It’s also less urgent than in Fallout 4, in which hunger worsened a lot faster. Indeed, the main problem I’ve had with food is being paranoid about having enough and then collecting so much it weighs a ton.

Health/combat:

It turns out jumping off a bridge will hurt your feet. Fortunately, not enough to break them (in my case) but I had two wounded foot symbols appear, with a slowly shrinking yellow indicator of malady. You can break feet (I’ve read) and you can certainly bleed. This can be staunched with bandaging, a skill you learn early on. Health does not automatically regenerate. Sleeping, eating food and drinking potions can restore it. You cannot heal mid-combat.

Even knowing how the combat worked, it still took me a little while to get the hang of it, with attacks coming from one of six directions, consuming stamina, chaining attacks and blocking. There was a very fun moment when someone started a fist fight with me and I whipped out my sword (he ran off, screaming). Having more men on your side is a massive advantage. Even with the weirdness of the system, a few fights in I felt a lot more comfortable with it. There’s also an interesting trade-off with armour, as it weighs a lot. So you can be a shiny steel tank of a man but have little carrying capacity, or go in more lightly armoured but capable of carrying a lot.

One unusual option available is to play an almost pacifist game. There is only one character you have to kill in the entire game. Obviously, most people will kill more, but you can spare enemies and/or avoid combat so if you want to play the game as Henry Pax and have almost no bloodshed, you can. This was my initial intention, but then some bandit attacked me on the road and I instead played as Henry Malleus Bandittorum (and got some nicer clothing from looting the corpse).

I’ve only tried archery once, and shamed England with my ineptitude with a bow.

Fast travel:

This option does exist but it’s a bit different to other games. In most RPGs, it’s effectively a teleport. In this game, you see your character making his way across the map, energy and nourishment slowly going down. I think it’s possible for encounters to occur during fast travel (although this hasn’t happened to me in my limited play time). It’s quite a nice halfway house because it fits with the realism slant of the game without forcing the player to literally walk (or ride) everywhere.

Obviously this is subjective to a large extent. Personally, I think the approach taken is generally a good one. It offers something new, and, as someone who likes history, the setting also appeals to me a lot. There are other things to be considered when I get round to a full review (graphics, bugs etc) but, for the most part I like the realism. If you enjoyed the Fallout 4 survival mode you won’t have many problems with this.

I wasn’t going to mention anything other than the realism, but it would be remiss of me not to mention the enormous day 1 patch, which is 23GB. For years I had no internet connection for my console, and I’m really not fond of this practice of having such massive patches.

Thaddeus

Projectile weapons in history

I tend not to chase hits, and just ramble as I like, but did notice that the medieval taxation blog got more hits than average so thought I’d write some more in a similar vein.

Projectile weapons, by which I mean one- or two-handed weapons rather than siege equipment, have been used throughout warfare. Most recently, we have sniper rifles and the like, but the bow and arrow go all the way back to prehistory, and the sling likewise.

But which was more effective? And what about darts?

Slings were used by many people, perhaps most notably the shepherds on the Balearic Islands. Because the terrain was very rugged and it was a pain to wander around, the shepherds would sling stones to get sheep to move this way or that. Naturally, the ability to (fairly) accurately hurl stones was handy in warfare too.

In war, slingers would prefer to use the lead bullet, which would be a pellet of lead similar in shape to a rugby ball or acorn. A big advantage they had over archers was that if they ran out of ammunition they could just scrabble for stones and use them instead. Armouring oneself against a bullet or stone from a sling is difficult. Not only are they harder to see than an arrow (which might be three feet long, give or take), but the sheer concussive force is significant. An arrow might be deflected by a curving piece of armour or shield, but a lead bullet will give you a solid thwack wherever it hits. The Romans had a specific surgical tool (fancy tongs) for removing lead bullets because, hitting unprotected flesh, they would get deeply embedded.

That all sounds impressive, but there are two major drawbacks with slingers. Firstly, the range is much less than that of an archer. Secondly, the accuracy is much lower. There are some other pros and cons. You can sling in the rain, whereas bowstrings go a bit iffy, and I’m not sure there’s any record of riding slingers (unlike mounted archers or mounted darters). Another pro is that a sling can just be tied around the waist, so you could have a few shots at the enemy, then pick up your ‘proper’ weapons to meet their charge. (A bow and quiver are rather more cumbersome, although you could still have a sword or suchlike, or even just smack enemies in the face with your bow).

The shorter range and poorer accuracy made slingers significantly less useful for the attacking party during sieges, because simply reaching the defenders (assuming they’re atop a wall) and hitting them was harder than it was for archers. Naturally, the sling was still pretty handy in defence, with gravity helping the distance and weak accuracy compensated for by the funnelling of attackers (who would cluster against a gate, at scaling ladders, or the site of a breach).

Side note: slingers were also involved the first ever literal form of friendly ‘fire’ in history, when messages were passed between opposing sides during a siege. On a less amicable note, lead bullets would sometimes be engraved with offensive messages to their intended targets, as per the modern world with bombs.

Archers have a special place in English history, largely due to helping crush the French at Agincourt. And they’re pretty damned impressive bits of kit. They can shoot at a faster rate than a Napoleonic-era musket, with better range and accuracy. Not only that, they’re pretty good at getting through most armour (eventually armour caught up and the curving plates became very successful at deflecting arrows). There were, in Parthia, famous horse-archers who could shoot from the saddle (including backwards, the famous Parthian Shot). These Parthian chaps were amongst those who cut Crassus to pieces at Carrhae. At one time, it was illegal in England and Wales not to perform archery practice, so useful were the peasant archers to the army.

However, this indicates the single biggest drawback of the bow. Teaching someone to use a war bow takes a long time because immense strength is required. Give an average man one, and his skeleton would bend before the bow was pulled all the way back. Unlike slingers, arrows have to be used, and you don’t just find ammunition scattered about on the floor. Mentioned above, but the strings also went a bit wonky in the rain.

During a siege, arrows were a very good means of ensuring the besiegers didn’t wander too near. Whilst archers could also be used offensively, battlements and arrow slits offered good protection for defending archers, and gravity made their job rather easier than the men tasked at firing upwards at tall walls.

There is, however, a third type of projectile weapon used in the ancient world: the thrown spear (or dart. And also throwing axe). My favourite example of these would be the Numidian cavalry that accompanied Hannibal in his famous invasion of Italy. These fellows rode small horses, rampaging around battlefields and peppering the enemy with darts (small thrown spears) before retreating. Now, those au fait with classical history will be aware that the Roman cavalry was rubbish but, nevertheless, the Numidian cavalry was a key strength of Hannibal’s army. They were also highly disciplined, which enabled them, having chased off the Roman horse at Cannae, to return to the battle and help complete the encirclement of the Romans.

A foot soldier equivalent, of a different nature, can be find in the Romans themselves. The legionary would have his own throwing spear, the heavyweight and hated pilum. The pilum was deliberately designed to be useless for most of the things a spear is usually good for (walking stick, three to a make a tripod, two to make a stretcher etc). It was heavy at the sharp end with an intentionally weak spearhead that would become hopelessly bent upon impact. This was cunning, because if it struck a shield, the sheer weight made the shield worthless. The pila were thrown right before the charge, killing some enemy and rendering the rest shieldless moments before the legion closed the distance and introduced their foes to the business end of their swords.

A third example would be the Frankish throwing axe. Smaller than the pilum, and with a curving handle which, according to an impeccable source (Lindybeige), ensured it bounced unpredictably, the throwing axe would be the Franks’ warm welcome to their battlefield opponents.

Thrown weapons, naturally, have much shorter range. In common with archers, but even more so, once ammunition is spent, that’s it. Because arrows are smaller than darts, the number of projectiles available is correspondingly smaller. There’s also a chance that the enemy might throw your weapon back, depending how the battle is going (although obviously this isn’t a problem with the pilum, which is a one-throw spear). There’s also a very clear divide, with horse rolling up, throwing some darts and then buggering off before the enemy get close, and foot throwing then immediately charging whilst the enemy are in disarray (in short, Numidian horsemen want to avoid getting close at all costs, whereas Roman legionaries want to get close as soon as possible after throwing).

In sieges, thrown weapons were either very handy (and could encompass heavy rocks or boiling sand/water) or bloody useless, depending which side you were on and the size of the walls.

NB I decided specifically not to include crossbows because the mechanism involved enables a shot to be held, imminently ready to be loosed, whereas all the above examples require the exertion immediately prior to release. That might sound like a finickity reason, but it fundamentally alters the way that crossbows were used in sieges (you could load then aim at a specific point waiting for a patrolling guard, something very hard to accomplish with a bow).

Thaddeus

A Denar Delivered

Now and then I’ve written about the forthcoming (out next week, actually) videogame Kingdom Come Deliverance, which is an open-world RPG set in Bohemia, 1403, with an emphasis on realism.

By chance, I happened to see that there was a free Twitter raffle at the https://twitter.com/Pan_2072 account, retweeted the relevant tweet and won the first contest for a Bohemian silver denar from around 1390/1400. And it arrived in the post today.

For a size comparison (ahem) I naturally sought my sixpence jar, which all Yorkshiremen possess for such occasions, opting for a 1947 George VI sixpence (good condition but not especially shiny). As you can see, the denar is substantially smaller (and the sixpence isn’t large). What you cannot see is that the denar is incredibly thin, almost wafer-thin.

This small diameter and thinness is not unique to the denar. I have it on good authority that English pennies of the same era were very similar. That’s because the value of the coin was based on its silver content (and why many rulers got into trouble for devaluing their coinage by lowering the silver content).

You may have guessed from the fact I have a sixpence jar that I have a small collection of coins, so getting an addition for just retweeting something was a very nice little bonus. There’s also an off-chance that the coin in question was handled by some of the historical figures in Kingdom Come Deliverance, which is quite a nice thought (and one marketing advantage that games with a historical setting might enjoy).

KCD is out on the 13^th of February. I’ll probably post a quick blog with my early thoughts on it when I’ve had a chance to see how things stack up.

A general ramble on coins I wrote last year: http://thaddeusthesixth.blogspot.co.uk/2017/02/coins-and-money-in-history.html

Thaddeus

Review: The Norman Conquest, by Marc Morris

I snapped this paperback up when it was just £3, and it turned out to be (a modest amount of) money well spent. (At the time of writing, that sale, at Amazon UK, is still on).

My knowledge of the Conquest itself, and the situation preceding and immediately succeeding it, was basic at best, and I found this book to be excellent in all three regards.

The author paints a picture of pre-Conquest England that’s detailed enough to give a very good impression of the state of play (early on it’s almost a dual biography of Edward the Confessor and William the Conqueror) without getting bogged down. This is invaluable as it portrays the heavy Scandinavian influence on England, which included a live threat of invasion before, during, and after the Conquest.

There is also a concise look at the formation of Normandy, from conquest by Vikings to Frankification [my own term, I should stress]. This includes not just a brief look at the culture and power structures of the realm (and how it stayed strong when much of the rest of what later became France splintered), but also the difficult and dangerous early life of William.

Naturally, most of the book revolves around the Conquest, specifically the reign of William the Conqueror. Whilst the events of 1066 are covered, I was glad that this didn’t form an excessive focus of the history because the basics are done to death, and the succeeding events, of which I previously knew little or nothing, were more interesting to discover.

The lack of Englishmen at the top of society afterwards was partly policy, and partly the fault of those who embarked upon repeated rebellions, forcing their removal (imprisonment being more common than execution). That said, the Harrying of the North, which may have led to three-quarters of those in Yorkshire dying, and general rapacity of the Normans in seizing land and forcing free men into servitude, paint the Conquest in a very dark light.

After the end of William’s reign there’s a quick summary of the events that followed, which I found very interesting.

There is one huge negative in this book, which is the vile, heretical, and unacceptable use of the Brownian tautology ‘pre-prepared’. Alright, this won’t do more than annoy most people, but for me it’s a pet hate. Honestly, Marc Morris. I expected better of you.

Leaving that abominable abuse of the English language aside, I was really pleased with this book. The writing style is easy to understand, the detail underpins explanations of why the author opts for specific interpretations of historical sources, and the scope of the book covers the preceding situation as well as the full reign of William the Conqueror.

Thaddeus

Review: The Fears of Henry IV, by Ian Mortimer

I have to admit, I knew practically nothing of Henry IV, having not even read any of the relevant Shakespeare plays. However, I have read the same author’s biography of Edward III (review here) which helps put together the situation in which Henry IV (and his cousin and predecessor Richard II) found himself.

The dual nature of the early half of the book, with Henry’s actions practically defined in contrast and reaction to those of the vindictive and insecure Richard, was very engaging to read. Both men were intelligent and almost the exact same age, but their characters were utterly different (Henry was luckier than Richard in knowing his father well, whereas Richard’s died when he was young). Both struggled with the looming shadow of Edward III’s long and (mostly) glorious reign, being grandsons of the aforementioned king.

Not unlike a biography of William Marshal, the rollercoaster of Henry’s life is fascinating to read purely on its own merits. Ian Mortimer does a good job putting things into context where necessary, and letting the drama speak for itself.

Whilst Richard was sly, Henry was devout and personally brave. He was also bloody unlucky on numerous occasions, and his early reign damaged by naivety, the consequences of which took some time to overcome. He was, however, decisive and committed, which helped to stave off the worst effects of his frequent misfortune.

There are numerous interesting questions about Henry and how he ought to be viewed. As well as his unorthodox manner of arriving at the throne, he executed an archbishop, and generally struggled with money, which then hampered his efforts to fight the Scots/Welsh/French.

It’s a life well told, packed with political scheming and rivalry, family feuds and numerous rebellions. It’s very good, and would work well with (either before or after, as you like) the same author’s aforementioned Edward III biography.

Thaddeus

Review: Kill Them All, by Sean McGlynn

The south of modern day France in the early 13^th century and the Albigensian Cruade that occurred there and then is something I had only tangential knowledge of (Simon de Montfort, the identically named son of the Crusade’s primary leader, featured heavily in Prince Edward’s (later Edward I) pre-throne life). But it sounded quite interesting, and I’ve been wanting to read another book by Sean McGlynn since the hugely enjoyable By Sword and Fire (reviewed here) which I read quite a while ago.

Crusade naturally conjures up thoughts of Jerusalem, with Christian armies on one side and Muslim armies on the other. But crusades also occurred in the 15^th century against the pagans of the Baltic, in the 13^th against the Muslims in modern day Spain, and against the Christian city of Constantinople.

The Church was annoyed by the rising popularity of the Cathar heresy/religion in Languedoc, and when a papal representative was murdered this prompted Innocent III to call a crusade. Shortly after the instigation, leadership fell to Simon de Montfort, who had fought in the Fourth Crusade against Constantinople. Opposing him were an assortment of Raymonds, including the Counts of Toulouse, Foix, and Comminges.

I really like the author’s writing style, providing comparable examples of actions (to back up his general stance that recorded atrocities may have really happened rather than being hyperbole) and, without condoning what happened, explaining that military advantage could be derived from horrific actions (such as massacres or ill-treatment of prisoners, including the particularly undeserved and horrible death of the Lady of Lavaur).

Overtly, the crusade was about bringing to heel a heresy and restoring Christianity as the established religion in the region, but the holy war aspect was, to a large extent, a veneer. There was an intermingling of religious and ambitious motives for the war’s start, continuation, and conclusion. The religious angle was genuine but also spun to make it seem more than it was. For a lot of people, including Montfort, the war was about gaining land and title.

Although Montfort looms large, this is not a biography of him but a history of events around a specific war (in that way, it’s somewhat similar to Thucydides’ account of the Peloponnesian War, although the Albigensian Crusade was naturally on a smaller scale). It’s a mixture of prolonged grinding attrition punctuated by brief periods of sweeping success for one side or another.

There are a number of battles, some of significant size, and a great many sieges which are told in a compelling fashion, with intriguing details that make it easy to imagine being there. It’s also interesting to learn of how the war (to varying degrees) was influenced by nearby greater powers, such as Aragon, France, and England.

I liked this a lot, but there are a few small niggles. A proofread would’ve eliminated most of the (almost entirely minor) errors. One time a name was spelt different ways on succeeding pages (Peter de Sissy/Peter de Cissy). Also, although there were siege and area maps interspersed, I was mildly surprised there wasn’t one over-arching map of the whole region at the start.

Thaddeus

Review: The Alexiad, by Anna Komnene

The edition I read was a Penguin Classics version, translated from Greek by ERA Sewter and revised with notes and an introduction by Peter Frankopan.

It’s a biography of the Alexius Komnenos, ruler of the Eastern Roman Empire and widely regarded as one of its best emperors. The history is written by his daughter Anna Komnene, and I think it’s the first history penned by a woman, certainly in Europe.

The biography doesn’t cover the entirety of Alexius’ life, beginning in the late 11^th century with Alexius as a senior officer in the Roman army. From this point it describes him fighting rebels and himself rebelling (ostensibly to save his own life from potentially fatal court intrigues), becoming emperor and reigning for decades.

This was a particularly important shift for the Empire as it marked a (temporary) end to short-lived and rubbish emperors, with Alexius’ reign also coinciding with Robert Guiscard’s invasion of the Balkans and the First Crusade. Indeed, Alexius appears to have spent more time fighting with the Franks than the Turks.

I like the author’s writing style quite a lot. It’s more personal than most histories for obvious reasons (early on Anna Komnene refers to ‘her father’/‘my father’ an awful lot) but even when talking about others you get a sense of her character. At one point she refers to a man acting like a demi-god towards a demi-ass, and laments the decline in education thus:

‘Today it is the game of draughts that is all the rage – and other activities which contravene the law’

There is a defensive/apologetic note sometimes, with the author keen to stress that she is not biased and is being objective. There is some evidence to bear this out (she does not omit the fact that when Alexius took the throne his army looted much of Byzantium). The apologetic note slightly reminds me of the letter Machiavelli wrote to Lorenzo de Medici ahead of The Prince.

She does, however, have a penchant both for tangents and writing things out of order. Because of this, the notes are more useful in this history than perhaps any other, clarifying dates and suggesting when the author may be mistaken.

That personal aspect lends added poignancy to the description of her father’s demise which, dealing with a universal part of life, is as emotive today as it would have been when it was written nine centuries ago.

Things I dislike are relatively few. As always, endnotes are inferior to footnotes, and the translation includes a pet hate: the ‘firing’ of arrows. There are not many lacunas, save for the final few pages where they pepper the page and occasionally make it tricky to determine the meaning.

Probably clear at this point that I liked The Alexiad rather a lot. I’ve read a small number of other books that cover the period in less detail (John Julius Norwich’s excellent trilogy on Byzantium, and I’ve read Gibbon’s Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, but can’t remember if he skipped Alexius [I think he covered the Komneni]). That extra context is useful but not essential for understanding the strategically difficult position the Empire was in, and the achievement of Alexius in restoring stability, prosperity and (mostly) victory to the ailing Empire.

The biography is strongly focused, as you would expect, upon the person and successes of Alexius, so other reading is not essential, and The Alexiad is well worth reading on its own.

Thaddeus

Divisions in history

Right now, the UK is at an intriguing crossroads in its history, whereby whatever happens a very large proportion of the population will be quite cross (the middle ways of an associate membership of the EU or EFTA/EEA membership were not offered in Cameron’s renegotiation and were rejected by May, respectively).

However, whilst fringe lunatics on either side shriek and wail, and a great many in the middle would just like reason to prevail, it’s worth noting that this ideological polarisation is nothing new. And nor is it anywhere near as bad as it has been in the past.

If we go back about two and a half thousand years, there’s the Peloponnesian War. This was between democrats, led by Athens (ironic, given Athens had a maritime empire), and the oligarchs, led by Sparta. Perhaps because there aren’t overriding personalities like Hannibal and Scipio, the war is less well-known than some ancient conflicts. As well as inter-city rivalry (which is more serious than it sounds. In Greek xenos [root of xenophobia] referred to another Greek but who came from a different city [barbaros referred to a non-Greek]), there was the clash of ideals. Democracy inherently sounds better to us, but it’s worth noting the Athenians executed most of their best admirals after a successful naval battle.

Yes, you read that correctly. The admirals in question failed to retrieve Athenian bodies from the water (not an easy task) and were punished for this with death. Democracy and mob rule are not so very far apart.

Within other cities that weren’t as firmly rooted in either camp, rival factions of pro-oligarchy and pro-democracy thugs arose. Thucydides wrote of how nuance and being reasonable was seen as cowardice, and treacherous backstabbing, ambushing the enemy, was seen as the height of bravery. As well as the major battles and prolonged warfare, a huge amount of bitterness was kindled all across Greece. This was quite unusual as warfare generally is about seizing resources or trying to avenge a misfortune.

More recently, but still about a thousand years ago, Byzantium was in the throes of iconoclasm. There was a clash between traditionalist iconodules, who adored icons (sometimes too much), and iconoclasts, who wanted to smash them. Icons were venerated but sometimes to such an extent that one might be named a godparent. This reached such extremes that a backlash movement arose, intent upon destroying the icons, smashing the physical substance and restoring faith and worship to the intangible. Countless works of religious art were destroyed before, eventually, the furore died down and a sort of soft iconodule solution was reached.

Hundreds of years ago, in Italy/Germany, there was a religious and political clash between those who supported the Pope and those who supported the Holy Roman Emperor (arguably the least accurate title in history). The Guelphs supported the Pope, and the Ghibellines backed the Holy Roman Emperor.

The first so-called Holy Roman Emperor was Charlemagne, who was crowned by the Pope in Rome on Christmas Day 800AD. This was not a continuation of the (Western) Roman Empire, but in the same way that Latin was used by the Church long after the Empire fell and Russia once described Moscow as the Third Rome, the Roman Empire still loomed so large in the cultural memory that both the Pope and Charlemagne wanted to be associated with it.

Such closeness between emperor and pontiff was not always the case. Centuries later, sometimes for more political reasons than religious or philosophical ones, the Guelph and Ghibelline factions arose. Often, pro-imperial Ghibellines lived in places at risk of rising papal power, and pro-papacy Guelphs dwelt in areas at risk of waxing imperial authority (so they were frequently bound together not so much by love of the one they supported as fear of the one they did not).

And that has some relevance to the present day. Many in the UK both dislike the EU’s politics and drive to integrate, and dislike the thought of utterly going it alone. For some, it’s a question of what they dislike more, rather than what they strongly support.

Thaddeus