October 2, 196

Night

Lucius Artorius Castus trudged along the cobblestone road the led to his seaside villa. Seven Roman miles. It seemed longer tonight. He used to cover that distance in a little over an hour. Now almost two hours had passed. He drew his cloak around his shoulders, sheltering himself fr…

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Ante diem VI Nonas Octobribus CMXLIX Ab Urbe Condita

October 2, 196

Night

Lucius Artorius Castus trudged along the cobblestone road the led to his seaside villa. Seven Roman miles. It seemed longer tonight. He used to cover that distance in a little over an hour. Now almost two hours had passed. He drew his cloak around his shoulders, sheltering himself from the autumn wind. His sandaled feet were just turning onto the twisting path that led up the mountainside to his villa when he heard hoofbeats. One horse. A messenger from the south. Castus paused and turned in the direction of the sound.

The messenger pulled up within arm’s reach of Castus and held out a leather tube. “Procurator, the Emperor commands.”

Castus nodded his thanks and ascended the path as the messenger rode back south. He took his time, carefully negotiating the switchbacks in the dark. The last thing he needed was a misplaced step to send him sliding down the mountainside. His bones were more brittle than they used to be, and a lifetime of war had made his joints stiff. He had hoped this war between the co-Emperors Septimius Severus and Niger would stay in the Eastern provinces. Instead, it was coming his way. At fifty-seven, the last thing he wanted was to be recalled as an officer and return to war. But he had no choice.

When he reached his villa a slave opened the front door for him so he could enter the atrium, which stored the water from the rains for the household. Beautiful mosaics covered the floors and paintings adorned the walls.

Castus lit a candle on the altar to the right of the door to honor the lares, his ancestors who watched over his house. He used the flame from a light stand to see as he opened the tube and withdrew the scroll with Severus’s message.

As he suspected, Severus was on his way and planned to hold a meeting at Castus’s villa with Senator Cassius Dio the next night.

“Why Dio?” Castus wondered aloud.

“Lucius!” his wife, Genura, exclaimed as she rushed into the atrium. “I wasn’t expecting you until closer to the new year.”

Castus held up the message. “Change of plans. We’re entertaining the emperor and a Senator tomorrow night.”

“We’re what?” Genura asked in a panicked voice.

“Don’t worry. Severus prefers plain, soldier’s fare. Whatever you had planned for dinner just needs to be expanded to include the extra guests. I’ll share the triniculum with Severus and Dio. The rest of you can eat where you always do. We don’t need any entertainment. This is going to be a business discussion. I fear Severus is going to recall me to accompany him to confront Albinus.”

Genura’s eyes grew big. “You’re going to war? At your age?”

Castus shrugged. “I’ve served with men who are older than I am.”

“You’re not in shape to fight,” Genura argued.

“Who said I’d be fighting?” Castus demanded. “I’m probably wanted for strategy. Albinus is likely to bring the Sarmatians with him.”

Genura touched her right hand to her lips. “The Sarmatians?”

Castus nodded. “The only way Severus can defeat them is to take heavy losses and overwhelm them as Marcus Aurelius did.”

Genura laid her hand over Lucius’s heart. “Neither way goes well for you.”

“I know them better than they know themselves.” Castus took her hand in his. “Don’t worry, wife. You did not marry a fool. I think I can convince them to fight for Severus.”

Genura helped remove his cloak. “I’ll warn the cook about our extra dinner guests. You’re sure about Severus’s diet?”

Castus laughed. “Yes, I’m sure. No extravagant surprises. He won’t appreciate them.”

Genura nodded, then took her leave, carrying the cloak with her.

Castus watched her go, a chill surrounding his heart. He had a very good idea which people Severus wanted him to bring with him: the kinfolk of the Sarmatians of Britannia who had stayed behind in Liburnia. That would endanger the fragile peace he had negotiated with the Iazyges. All he could hope for was to convince Severus that he could get Albinus’s Sarmatians to switch sides. He shook his head and signaled to a slave girl. “Fetch me bread and wine. I’ll be in my study.”

The girl gave a slight bow and scurried after Genura.

* * *

Ante diem V Nonas Octobribus CMXLIX Ab Urbe Condita

October 3, 196

Evening

Castus reclined on a couch in his triniculum. He wore a white tunic with the thin purple border he was entitled to as an Equestrian, a Roman knight. Severus and Dio lay on the other two couches. They were similarly attired in plain clothing, though Senator Dio’s was wider than Castus’s and Severus wore solid purple. All three men had beards, which were typical of Roman soldiers. Trays of food were set on tables within easy reach and a slave in a plain tunic lingered in the corner in case they needed anything else. Castus picked up a bunch of grapes.

Dio helped himself to some bread and dipped it in oil. “Castus, I visited your brother Marcus at your family villa when I headed from my Capua villa to Rome.”

Castus toyed with a grape. “How is he doing?”

Dio nibbled at his bread. “He’s duum vir of a nearby town. I’d say I forgot the name, but you’d know that was a lie. He didn’t mention it.”

Castus ground his teeth. “Why didn’t he volunteer to come with you?”

Dio smiled wryly. “He’s staying behind to help defend Rome.”

“From Capua? Does he think Albinus is going to land with the First Fleet at Misenum?”

Chapter 4:

Angels

Many works of art in a variety of media depict the acts and miracles of saints, angels, and the Virgin Mary (Leclercq 1968, 254). The three choirs of angels, according to Pseudo-Dionysus the Areopagite, consisted of the Seraphim, the Cherubim and the Thrones (First Hierarchy), the Dominations, the Virtues and the Powers (Second Hierarchy) and the Princedoms, the Archangels, and the Angels (Third Hierarchy). The Seraphim (symbols of Divine Love) are usually red in color and holding candles; the Cherubim (symbols of Divine Wisdom) are gold or blue and sometimes hold books; the Thrones (symbols of Divine Justice) are usually portrayed as judges with staves of authority. (They receive the glory of God and “bestow it on the second hierarchy.”) Dominations wear crowns, carry scepters and may also carry an orb. The Virtues, which are closely associated with Christ’s Passion, carry either white lilies or red roses. (The white lilies represent the Virgin Mary, and the red roses are a holdover from the Roman goddess Flora.) The Powers usually appear as knights, emerging victorious from a battle with devils. The Princedoms, the Archangels and the Angels have no specific iconography, but the Princedoms are associated with nations, the Archangels with the armies of Heaven, and the Angels with the innocent and just (Ferguson 1961, 97).

Angels begin to appear with the Chalice at the Cross in the late twelfth century, at roughly the time an angel appeared with the Chalice in the Perlesvaus (1191-1212; Hatton MS 82, Branch 1, 11.1-8; Lister 1921, 31; Pickford 1978, vol. 2; Nitze and Jenkins 1932-37). Schiller (1972, 2:108) dates the appearance of the Angel with the Chalice at the Cross to the thirteenth century. There is one eleventh-century example of angels with the Agnus Dei as the Blood of the Lamb pours into the Chalice (1020, the outside of the back cover of the Portaile of Heinrich II; Schiller 1972, 2:120; fig. 403). Two other images, which may be from the late twelfth century, are the book cover for the Psalter of St. Elizabeth (late 1100-1300)[1] and the reference to the Angel with the Chalice at the Cross from the Perlesvaus (1191-1212; Bodleian Library, Hatton MS 82, Branch 1.a, 11, 1-8; Lister 1921, 31; Pickford 1978, vol 2; Nitze and Jenkins 1932-37). Except for these stray examples, Schiller’s date is quite accurate. However, most of these images date from the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, as in the case of a fourteenth-century panel (Fry 1912, 47f.: p. 2; Marle 1923-38, 5:483), a triptych (1300-1500),[2] and a painting (1460; Schiller 1972, 2:215; fig. 710). An angel appears with the Chalice at the Cross in a painting on the Wilten Altar (Tirol, 1420; Schiller 1972, 2: fig. 519) and in a painting by Giovanni Bellini (1460; Schiller 1972, 2: fig. 7210 f.)

One of the best-known visions, which contains the angel with the Chalice at the Cross, occurs in accounts of a vision that St. Gregory supposedly had while celebrating a mass in a chapel of the church of the Holy Cross in Jerusalem in Rome (Fisher 1917, 78-9). The iconography includes St. Gregory in front of an altar with a figure of Jesus rising from a tomb or upright with a cross behind Him floating above the altar. Some portrayals include blood flowing from Jesus’s wounds into the Chalice. Of these, some have supporting angels. The image apparently became extremely popular, because “an indulgence was supposed to have been granted to St. Gregory to be bestowed on those who would contemplate the suffering of Christ in his vision. This indulgence accounts for the numerous instances of this Christ of St. Gregory in art; it is an especial favorite as the central figure of a predella” (Fisher 1917, 78-9).

An old French legend tells how Charlemagne brought back several relics from the Holy Land, one of which was the “Chalice of Christ” (Stein 1988, 30-1). This relic was given to Hugo of Tours by Louis the Pious. Hugo proceeded to take the relic to Niedermünster (near Odilienberg) (Stein 1988, 35). Later, Abbess Uta of Niedermünster would have a miniature of Ecclesia with the Chalice at the Cross depicted in her Book or Pericopes by the School of Regensburg. (See Schiller 1972, 2:109, 114-6, fig. 385.)

An angel also reveals the hiding place of the Precious Blood relic of Fécamp (Weston 1975, 158). According to Le Roux de Lincy (1840, 47), the tabernacle that contained this relic was supported by angels, showing that in at least on artist’s mind angels were the appropriate bearers of the vessel that contained the blood of Jesus.

Schiller (1972, 2:206; fig. 706) notes that two angels support a cross that contains a blood relic in the altar of the Holy Blood in the church of St. James at Rothenburg ob der Tauber (1501-4) and that this altar is intimately connected with the observance of the Sacrament (which includes the use of the Chalice).

Stein differentiates between medieval cults of the Holy Blood by distinguishing those that concern the shedding of the first blood (the Circumcision) and those that involve the shedding of blood at other points in Christ’s life. The two types of shedding that are associated with the image of the Chalice at the Cross are the blood shed during the actual Crucifixion and the blood shed as the result of the piercing of Christ’s side with the lance.[3] Although Stein (1988, 30-1) considers that the foreskin was the particular relic associated with Hugo of Tours, Hugo’s legend suggests that he was associated with the blood of the Crucifixion as it was collected in the Chalice as well. Stein (1988, 35) believes that since the Chalice and other relics were given to Charlemagne by an angel, that these cannot be physical relics but must instead be references to a cult. I disagree. The method by which Charlemagne acquired the objects may seem a bit fanciful, but the objects appear to have been quite physical.

Burdach (1938, 146, 357, 439) points out that in Byzantine iconographic tradition a vision of angels sometimes appears at the moment of the Elevation of the Host during the Mass (e.g., Nova partum bibliotheca, 1853, vol. 6, pt. 2: fig, 7 p. 590). He compares this with the western imagery of shimmering light falling from the Eucharistic sacrament during the Mass. However, both of these traditions involve the Host and not the Chalice. Coyajee (1939, 12) picked up on this “shimmering light” and noted that in Iranian tradition, the angel of the Waters (Apam Napat) is the guardian of the Glory (Xvarenah), which he sees as an analogue to the Holy Graal.

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Chapter 1

Kirin’s POV:

I brought the Bentley Flying Spur to a smooth, silent stop behind Alpha Richard’s car, which was being driven by my father, Beta Steven. I shifted into park and stopped the electrical engine. I checked the charge, relieved to see that we could probably make it back to the main highway without switching to our petrol reserve. My eyes darted right, toward what I could see of the massive building that belonged to the Rising Moon pack. It was five stories tall and looked as if it contained at least fifty rooms, some of them most likely suites. Made of granite stones polished by centuries of winters, it emerged through ancient trees like some force of nature. Windows led onto balconies covering the surface of the wall Kirin could see. The massive front door appeared to be from dark mahogany, which gaped open beneath the wooden overhang that covered the similarly dark-wood porch that wrapped itself around the building like a mother’s arms around her child.

In front of the packhouse, Alpha Sylvester and Luna Celine Sage of the Rising Moon pack stood with their Beta, Dylan Lakeshore, and his mate, Emily. Rows of Omegas, males and females dressed as maids and butlers, lined up alongside them.

My eyes flickered forward, and I saw my father, Steven Thorne, start to open the driver’s door. I unlatched my seatbelt and opened my own door, mirroring him perfectly. I stepped out, my glossy black loafers crunchy on the woody mulch that covered the drive. The scent of pine and damp earth assaulted my nostrils as I took the handle of the back door and opened it for my brother, Sean, and his mate, Christine.

My wolf, Samuel, stirred at the scent of the forest. We’d been tending to business in the city for too long. Run?

I sighed inwardly. Not on another pack’s territory.

He echoed my sigh and sulked back into a far corner of my mind.

Ahead of us, Alpha Richard Bush of the Silver Crescent pack, exited the vehicle and helped his Luna, Marilyn, to disembark.

My father and I shut the car doors in unison. He rounded the front of the car and followed our Alpha and Luna to meet our hosts, unlocking the trunk on his way. Sean and Christine trailed along after them. That was Sean’s job. Learning how to be a good Beta. He would have to be one since our father was getting on in years, and Alpha Richard and Luna Marilyn were pupless. A new Alpha would take over our pack before long, and there would be no one to stop him. All the guests at this ball with their extra Alpha pups just had to sit back and wait. Either someone would defeat Alpha Richard or he would be forced to choose one of the candidates on display tomorrow night. It would be either my father’s or my brother’s job to ease the new Alpha into his place at the top of the pack.

Me? I’m just the spare. The Beta spare at that. The one in charge of the driving and the luggage. Get the Beta’s family to its destination safely (Check). See that the cars are unloaded with care (In Progress). Make sure that everyone’s belongings get to the proper room (To Be Determined). Then, park the cars wherever I’m instructed to do so, before taking the keys for both cars (I have a spare set to the Alpha’s car in my pants’ pocket) to my own room. Wherever that turns out to be.

Wood chips crunched beneath my shiny black loafers as I made my way around to the trunk of the Alpha’s car and opened it so some Omegas from Rising Moon could offload their luggage. I walked around back of the Beta car and repeated the process. The numerous packs invited for the Alpha Ball had staggered their arrival times so as not to overwhelm the staff, but the place was already buzzing with activity. I glanced around and found the Omega who seemed to be head butler. I adjusted my black business suit and tie, then made my way over to him. “Hello. I’m Kirin Thorne of Silver Crescent. Any communications about nonessential matters while we are here should go through me. There is no need to occupy Alpha Richard’s or my father, Beta Steven’s time with anything I can just as easily take care of. They are, after all, here to have a good time.” I smiled at the man and waited to be addressed.

The butler checked a clipboard he held in his hands. “Alpha Richard and Luna Marilyn are assigned to fourth floor, suite three. Beta Steven and his mate, Alice, are in suite four next to them, which includes a second bedroom for future Beta Sean and his mate, Christine. As the second son of a Beta, I’m afraid all we have available for you is a private room in the Omega section.”

I gave a short nod. “I’ll see the housekeeper after I make sure the important luggage is settled and the cars are parked to see where I should send mine.” I followed after the staff, wondering what on earth a “private room in the Omega section” was. All of our Omegas shared rooms with one to three others. Then again, all of our Omegas were female. Breeders. I didn’t understand the point in having a bunch of extra butlers running around. But, then again, to each Pack its own.

The scent of pine and damp earth also pervaded the packhouse, seeming to drift after us inside from the courtyard. I had my bags sent to my room and followed the Omegas assigned to our luggage up the stairs to the fourth floor and down the hall to our assigned suites. I made sure the Alpha and Luna’s belongings were unpacked into the large wardrobe in their room, then tended to those of my father, brother and sister-in-law. Once everything was in place, I made my way back downstairs and outside to move the cars into their assigned spaces. Once they were settled, I located the head housekeeper. I waited patiently for her to finish with directing Omegas to greet another Pack then approached her. “Hello. I’m Kirin Thorne of the Silver Crescent Pack. I was told that a private room had been set aside for me in the Omega section.”

The housekeeper signaled to one of the female Omegas. “Jenny, take Master Kirin to his room. It’s across the hall from yours.”

Jenny nodded at the housekeeper and motioned for me to follow her.

I kept close on her heels, making mental notes of the paintings and other details on the walls as we climbed up one flight of stairs then maneuvered down a labyrinth of halls so I could find my way out if there was no one to escort me.

After about ten minutes, Jenny opened a door on the right side of the hallway and ushered me inside. “Dinner’s at 8 in the main hall.” With that she was gone.

I entered the room and looked around.

A window with drapes overlooked the drive. There was no balcony, probably for security because it was so low to the ground. There was a double bed with a dark blue comforter, matching sheets and pillow. A nightstand with a small light stood next to it. A wardrobe loomed in the far corner with my luggage in front of it. A door on my right led to what I presumed was a bathroom, probably a shared one, given what I knew about Omegas.

I sighed and began unpacking my things. I felt my wolf stir again.

Well, it could be worse, Samuel observed.

Yeah, I replied. We could be sharing it with a stranger. I’d travelled light. Just a second business shirt, two sets of boxers, a tux for the ball, and my toiletries bag. We were just going to be here two nights and leave early the morning after the Ball. I’d left straight from the office to pick up Sean and Christine. There were no sports or other games planned, so I’d left behind all my training and casual clothes. Another weekend of being a glorified go-fer, I grumbled.

Could be worse. You could be Sean, Sam offered unhelpfully.

Begrudgingly, I agreed. At least I didn’t have to have a semi-photographic memory to keep track of all of the Alpha’s requests, exercise the brainpower necessary to fulfill them and share a bedroom adjacent to my father’s with my mate. Mom had been killed by rogues years ago, and at 23, I was starting to wonder if I even had a mate. None of the she-wolves interested me, and the guys never gave me a second glance. Not that I was complaining. Well, I guess I was complaining. I was a decent fighter, but I wasn’t a warrior. I was a better fighter than a Gamma, but I didn’t have the supernatural skills of a Delta. I had no healing powers, and I couldn’t teach pups to save my life. I simply didn’t have the patience for it. I would occasionally go on patrols over the pack territory, but mostly I was a chauffeur and personal butler to our Alpha couple, my father, my brother and Christine. Even at the company I was just an elevated file clerk at RM Industries, not an assistant. My life was dull—which I suppose some pack members would consider a good thing. But it wasn’t exactly fulfilling, and I didn’t see myself getting out of it. Ever. Yet there didn’t seem to be any other way I could contribute to the pack.

I checked the time on my phone. I had three hours to kill before dinner. I set the timer for two and a half hours.

Run? San suggested again.

Not here. I set my phone on the nightstand, took off my jacket and hung it up in the wardrobe. I slipped off my shoes and stretched out on the bed. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I noticed it again. That scent of pine and damp earth. Maybe it was some kind of laundry soap they used around here. Whatever it was, Sam was going crazy over it, repeatedly demanding to go for a run. Finally, I had to block him. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath of the soothing scent, and quickly drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 2

Jilian’s POV:

I finished setting the table for the guests who had already arrived. We’d positioned several long tables down the length of the ballroom. Forgoing a tablecloth, several us had polished the wood to a brilliant shine. I’d positioned a carving of a howling wolf in the center of the table and cut pine branches to trail along the length to the ends. I worked battery operated candles into the branches so nothing would catch fire. I’d chosen our platinum cutlery instead of our stainless steel because of the ranks of our guest. We had no silver because of the damage it did to us. I set out the crystal wine and water goblets, decorated with crescent moons, and took one final look at my work. Satisfied, I returned to the kitchen to get my next assignment.

“Dishes!” the head cook yelled at me.

I hung up my jacket on the wall hooks we had for that purpose, rolled up my sleeves, put on an apron, and began to wash the pots and pans, handing them off to my friend Mary to dry, while other butlers and maids went to seat the guests and pour water and wine. We’d already eaten earlier, in the late afternoon, and others started to dish up the meal for our guests. Mine was dirty work, but I didn’t mind. This chore was less nerve-wracking than mingling with the Alphas, Lunas and Betas I’d be serving tomorrow night at the ball. I was a wolfless Omega, and a male one at that. I knew the other packs didn’t approve. My father, a Delta, and my mother, an Omega, in the Blue Moon Pack certainly didn’t, particularly when they noticed that I had crushes on warriors instead of she-wolves. At least they cared enough to place me in the Rising Moon Pack instead of having our Alpha turn me out as a rogue. Alpha Sylvester had been good to me. He gave me a home when no one else would, and I had no desire to cause him any trouble.

We worked quietly, focusing on the task at hand. Mary’s curly red hair stuck to her forehead, and my straight black hair did the same to mine. I’d thought about asking Alpha Sylvester to have the geniuses at RM Corp. design air conditioning for workers stuck doing dishes, but I’d given up the idea when I’d overheard him talking with Luna Celine about the important medical equipment our teams were designing. Surely they were more important than me having to put up with a little sweat.

As soon as Mary and I finished the dishes, we helped fill up the plates, which the other maids and butlers carried into the ballroom-turned-dining room. I placed carved pieces of roast—rare, the way most wolves liked it—next to the mashed potatoes Mary scooped onto the plates. Jeremy added gravy to the potatoes and roast while Shiela finished the place with French-cut green beans and handed them off to the servers. Once the last plate went out, Mary and I worked on washing the serving dishes. We worked in silence since the kitchen was far too loud a place to attempt to carry on a conversation. We didn’t need to talk, though. We were good friends. Comfortable with each other. Roommates because neither of us had any romantic interest in the other.

We’d just finished the pack dishes when the main course dishes from our guests started to stack up in the kitchen, carried there by maids and butlers while other servers prepared desserts and took them into the main hall. This part of formal parties always bothered me. I feared chipping the plates. It would be even worse when the crystal glasses arrived. Alpha Sylvester wasn’t mean, but I’d hate to see him disappointed if I damaged any of his treasures.

The slight smell of vanilla and rosemary wafted through the kitchen, which I assumed was a mix of odors from the main course and the desserts. I ran clean water in the sink and carefully washed the dishes, handing them to Mary to dry. By the time we finished the plates for the main course, the dessert plates started to return. And the glasses. I used another sink of clean water for each of them, noticing that the faded smell of rosemary and vanilla was still there. We made it through the dessert plates and glasses without incident, then I refilled the sink again and started on the platinum ware. As Mary finished drying them, she laid them out and began to count to make sure nothing had been accidentally thrown away.

The others brought in the napkins and tablecloths, which we sorted into multiple washers. There it was again. On one of the tablecloths and napkins. Rosemary and vanilla. Someone must’ve spilled something, though I didn’t see any spots.

The rest of the butlers and maids drifted out of the kitchen, heading for their beds.

I finished loading the washers and walked back over to the hooks to reclaim my jacket, unrolling my sleeves as I went. I replaced my jacket with my apron, then made my way to the kitchen table.

Mary carried the dishtowels back to the washers and put them in a pile for us to do when the linens were ready to dry.

I tossed my jacket over the back of a chair and grabbed a couple of everyday wine glasses for us. I poured us each some black wine from partially empty bottles and took a seat at the kitchen table.

Mary took the seat next to me, reached for her glass and stared at the dark fluid.

“I’m not looking forward to tomorrow,” I admitted. I took a sip of my black wine, enjoying the effervescent feel of the sweet liquid on my tongue.

Mary slowly twirled her glass in her hands. “I don’t know why Alpha Sylvester is having the male Omegas serve at the ball. He knows the other packs don’t like you. He should let you hide in the kitchen.”

I gave a low chuckle. “I think he wants to make sure none of the she-wolves attract the attention of the candidates who are up for adoption.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “The new Alpha-to-be will need a Luna.”

“Maybe one of them will swing the way I do,” I teased. I put my hands together under my chin and batted my eyelashes. “Don’t you think I’d make a fabulous Luna?”

Mary snorted, some of her wine going up her nose. She punched my shoulder. “Look what you made me do!” She used her apron to clean herself up. She sighed when she finished. “I love this pack, but I already know my mate isn’t here. If I’m going to find her, I’ll have to visit our allies.”

“What if we don’t have mates?” I asked idly, eyeing my wine. When she didn’t respond immediately, I took a large gulp.

Mary reached out and patted my forearm. “You haven’t even turned 18 yet or received your wolf. You could have a mate right under your nose and have no idea.”

It was my turn to roll my eyes. “My birthday, a full moon, and I’m serving Alphas who won’t look at me twice. Tomorrow is going to be so much fun.”

“Stop it!” Mary giggled. “I’m going to need a towel to wipe up that much sarcasm.”

I gave her a lopsided grin. “I was just thinking that I might need to pocket a towel for my drool with all those hot Alphas in the room.”

Mary’s giggle became an outright laugh. “Aren’t we the pair? The odds of us finding mates of our own gender and being allowed to get away with it . . .” She sobered as her voice trailed off.

We’d talked about the problem a thousand times. We’d have a better shot in the human world, and even there the odds weren’t great. Neither of us was willing to go rogue for something we might not find. So, we washed dishes and scrubbed floors and took care of children and did everything else we could do to earn our keep in the one pack that would accept us. Or at least me. Mary could have hidden in another pack even if she did find her mate. Me? I was out of luck. At least I had clothes, food and a roof over my head.

The washing machines finished, and we shifted the linens to the dryers. We washed up our glasses, returned them to their shelf, and started a load of dishtowels, which we would dry in the morning. Then we made our way out of the kitchen, turned off the lights, and headed up the stairs to our room.

Arthurian Legend Section

March 31‑April 3, 1999

Several years back I taught a series of courses on the Arthurian tradition. To present my students with visual images of the Arthurian legends as an aide to our discussions, I surveyed the medieval visual arts for examples of the various characters from the stories, consulting as many examples of medieval Arthurian art prior to 1501 C.E. as I could find. I then took a closer look at those pieces that were not manuscript illuminations, woodcuts or incunabala. I gathered as much contextual information as I could about each piece, and then I collated the results. The patterns that emerged are thought-provoking and have much to say about what medieval people valued on an individual basis as opposed to what they transmitted through the manuscript tradition.

The manuscripts are littered with textual descriptions of statues and portraits of the various figures; other favored media include frescoes and embroideries, though all of the visual arts are represented in one place or another. As far as actual medieval visual representations of the tales are concerned, the bulk of our evidence comes from manuscript illuminations, woodcuts and incunabula. But, as the manuscripts attest, there were also frescoes, mosaics, sculptures, wood carvings, tiles, tapestries, embroideries, ivory caskets, quilts, leatherwork, enamels, metalwork, and other media represented.

Some of these scenes come from variants of the legends for which no textual record survives. Cathedrals and chapels favored images of Arthur, often in his role as one of the Nine Worthies. Bearers of the Chalice at the Cross, the Holy Grail motif, were also popular with the clergy (Malcor 1991). Yet the images in private spaces, areas in shadows or otherwise hidden from the eyes of the public, came primarily from the great love stories of Arthurian romance and most frequently from the legend of Tristan and Isolde.

The choices made by the artists who executed these motifs or the patrons who bought or commissioned the works say something important about what specific tales in the Arthurian tradition meant to the people who incorporated the stories into their everyday lives. In this paper I want to take a look at some of those choices to see if any common criteria for selection can be determined.

Arthur: King of Kings

To understand the art that adorned the private spaces, we must first look at the Arthurian works that graced public spaces. The most prominent of these concerned Arthur himself. In Liber Floridus (1120 C.E.) Lambert, canon of St. Omer, wrote, “There is in Britain, in the land of the Picts, a palace belonging to the warrior Arthur, built with marvelous art and skill, in which all his exploits and wards are seen sculptured.”[i] This fictional account of where images of Arthur can be found is actually inaccurate from the bits of evidence that we have. Images with Arthur himself as the central figure occur almost exclusively in sacred settings: cathedrals, chapels, and the like.[ii] One instance, the Perros Relief (ca. 1100 C.E.), concerns a Saint’s Life (that of St. Efflam). Several others concern secular tales and/or motifs.[iii]

Far and away the most popular portrayal of Arthur in the visual arts, beyond those in the text tradition, is that of Arthur as one of the Three Christian Kings of the Nine Worthies.[iv] While a handful of Nine Worthies portrayals turned up in castle dining halls,[v] most appeared in cathedrals, churches, chapels, and other “sacred” spaces, usually in the nave and in plain view of the public. The media used to portray the motif ran the gamut: sculpture, fresco, enamel, tapestry, and glass, in addition to woodcuts.

The notion that the figure of Arthur belongs in a sacred context is interesting. In the manuscript tradition, he appeared either as a foil for saints, as a wronged husband, or as a Christian king. In the visual arts he became part of a sermon preached to the populace.[vi] But Arthur was the second most popular figure in the visual tradition. The most popular was Tristan.

Tristan and Isolde: A Personal Favorite

As Loomis noted (1938:19), it takes only a casual survey to realize that the topic of choice among Arthurian images was the romance of Tristan and Isolde. More than twice as many images survive of Tristan as do of Arthur, and surviving depictions of Tristan outnumber Lancelot by over three to one.

For personal items, such as handmirrors and quilts, people chose the legend of Tristan and Isolde as a decorative motif far more frequently than they chose images from any other tale. The notion that Tristan’s story somehow belonged in a private space came early and was reflected in the stories themselves. Thomas tells how Tristan carved sculptures of Isolde to ease his grief, placing the statues in a hall in a cavern in the woods.[vii] Two other fictional descriptions of Tristan appear on the golden chalice in Jean Renart’s L’Escoufle,[viii] where the vessel is a gift as a communion cup given to the guardians of the Holy Sepulchre by the Count of Montivilliers, and on a golden cup in a poem by the troubadour Peire Cardinal (ca. 1200-1250), in which the vessel is “sent by the Sultan of Turkey as a gift for the Franks.”[ix] Tristan and Isolde also appeared embroidered on robes in Floriant et Florete (c. 1250-1275)[x] and the Middle English poem Emaré (late 14th c.).[xi]

Outside the MS tradition, Tristan’s story appeared in less conspicuous spaces. The tales in the visual arts tend to vary from the MS tradition as well. The Forrer Casket (c. 1200),[xii] for instance, features scenes from Eilhart’s, Thomas’s and Gottfried’s versions of Tristan, yet was probably carved prior to the composition of either Gottfried’s or Thomas’s work. Although this casket represents the earliest representation of the legend in the visual arts,[xiii] a single written source cannot be identified, which definitely raises the possibility that the source was an oral tradition that incorporated all of the elements later used by various authors.[xiv] By the mid‑thirteenth century the Schmalkalden murals, which show that the written legends were produced.[xv] The Munich Tristan MS, in turn, may have drawn some of their images from the Stasbourg Cathedral statues. In other words, the manuscript tradition was actively interplaying with the visual arts.[xvi]

Loomis and Loomis (1939:42) pointed out that Tristan’s legend was “the most popular romance subject for enamels, embroideries and wall-paintings,” as well as showing up in ivory carving and manuscript illuminations. The story appealed to artists in both the secular and sacred segments of society. Mirror casings and jewel-caskets were among the most common items to carry the legend.

The pavement of the Abbey of Chertsey (c. 1270) included scenes from Tristan’s story.[xvii] Henry III supposedly suggested the Tristan romance as the topic for the Abbey tiles.[xviii] Thirty-five scenes can be identified as coming from the Tristan legend.

Tristan and Isolde are featured on the murals that decorate the gallery of the Summer House at Runkelstein.[xix] More murals of Tristan and Isolde decorate the passage to “The Ladies’ Chamber” of the Summer House.[xx] The inscription “Tristan” appeared on paintings at Schrogenstein, Bozen, as well.[xxi] These are all semi-private spaces where the images would have been viewed primarily by family members and most frequently by the women of the household.

When the Tristan legend does appear in a public setting, it is usually found in an obscure, hard-to-view spot. The S. Floret murals, for instance, are located high up on the walls of the great hall, near the ceiling, which would have rendered them very difficult to view.[xxii] These murals once again represent a montage of aspects of the tradition rather than a unified story. Inscriptions indicate that the scenes were taken from the Meliadus,[xxiii] with the exception of the “Tryst Beneath the Tree,” the most popular of all the Tristan motifs--and a scene that is not found in the Meliadus, though it does occur in the Prose Tristan, one of the sources for the Meliadus.[xxiv]

Six embroideries of the Tristan legend owe their story to a tale that served as a source for Eilhart von Oberg and Gottfried, with Eilhart owing far more to the source than Gottfried.[xxv] Three of these embroideries were likely the work of nuns at Wienhausen.[xxvi] One, the Luneburg Embroidery, came from the village church of Emern and was most likely produced in lower Saxony in the fourteenth century.[xxvii] Another, the Erfurt Tablecloth (c. 1370), originally came from the Benedictine nunnery at Wurzburg.[xxviii] The sixth, the South Kensington Embroidery (ca. 1370), may have been designed by the same person who designed the Erfurt Tablecloth, given the correlation of scenes between the two embroideries. Another scene of Tristan and Isolde was added in one corner by a different hand. No other contextual information is available,[xxix] but some scholars have speculated that the embroideries were intended as wedding gifts. As such, they were meant to be used in private rather than in public spaces, and the moral content of their message directed at the wife.

Beroul’s Tristan, or a source akin to it, provided the images on the ivory casket in the Hermitage.[xxx] Produced at Paris (1300-1340), the casket was intended for secular use by a lord or lady.[xxxi] Some panels contain scenes that may not be from Beroul or which may have appeared in a part of Beroul that is now lost.[xxxii] A related casket from the same workshop shows one sequence of scenes from the Folie Tristan and of Tristan in a pose that is likely copied from a Psalter in conjunction with scenes of other lovers.[xxxiii]

Two mid-thirteenth-century bed-quilts of Sicilian origin depict a strand of the Tristan legend that eventually found written expression in the Tristano Riccardiano, the Tavola Rotunda and the Cuento de Tristan de Leonis.[xxxiv] The scenes are not sequential; instead to follow the story as we know it requires jumping back and forth, from on quilt to the other. The coverlets were most likely wedding gifts.[xxxv]

The “Tryst Beneath the Tree”, which depicts King Mark hiding in a tree above Tristan and Isolde as the lovers meet, is by far the most common Tristan motif in medieval art.[xxxvi] It spans several media: ivories, crystal, wood, embroidery, and stone.

The items are just as varied: caskets, corbels, misericords, and combs. But all of the images I have examined to date were either located in a place that is impossible to view, in a semi-private space, or intended for use in an exclusively private space, with the last of these three divisions predominating.

Lancelot and Gawain: Knights on the Edge

Lancelot’s story also occupied private spaces within the manuscript tradition, but in very specific forms. Lancelot paints murals of himself and Guinevere in the Vulgate Lancelot.[xxxvii] Arthur views the pictures in the Mort Artu.[xxxviii] The Vulgate says that the pictures of the love affair were painted in the cell where Morgan held Lancelot.[xxxix] In other words, the space was about as private and secular as it was possible to get. In the real world, portrayals of Lancelot are indeed found primarily in private spaces. For instance, his legend is depicted on several ivory caskets that were mass-produced in Paris.[xl] In more public spaces, Lancelot’s figure did not have the same concept of “sacredness” attached to it that Arthur’s did.[xli] For instance, it was okay to whitewash over Lancleot, which is what happened to the only known wall-painting of Lancelot in England.[xlii]

Gawain’s stories from the manuscript tradition, in contrast, often appeared in borderline spaces, locations that were often somehow both private and public. The Perlesvaus, for instance, says that the story of his life was painted in a semi-private, sacred place: on the walls of a chapel in a castle that falls to ruins and is inhabited only by a priest and a clerk when Arthur and Gawain find it.[xliii] In Heinrich von dem Türlin’s Diu Krone (ca. 1220) Gawain sees the tale of one of his adventures on a golden platter.[xliv] In this case, the context is public rather than private, but the viewing itself is of a rather private nature, since no one else looking at the platter is actually the person depicted there.

When Gawain’s story appears in a private space, it does so in conjunction with a legend from Lancelot’s corpus, and this union happens most frequently on ivory caskets.[xlv] These caskets were often given as wedding gifts and tended to reside in the bedrooms of the married couple. The tale probably served on as a sermon on morality. Similarly, when Lancelot’s tale appears in a borderline region, as in the case of the capital of the nave of S. Pierre in Caen, the presence of Gawain’s story seems to have influenced the choice to use Lancelot’s legend as well.

Perceval: The Divine Fool

Tales of Perceval were favored for frescoes in dining rooms, but his story also appears on caskets that were intended for use in bed chambers.[xlvi] The scenes are taken from several MS traditions, though Chretien’s Conte del Graal and the Estoire and Queste from the Vulgate are the most common sources. Just as the images are found in both public and private spaces, there is an ambiguity in attitudes toward this Grail knight, who, like Lancelot, has his image painted over in some of the murals.[xlvii]

Galahad: The Holy Knight

Galahad, the knight renowned for his chastity, has a curious motif attached to him in the visual arts. Outside of the textual tradition, he appears to show up exclusively in an image in which he obtains the keys to the Castle of Maidens. In three of the depictions, the visual commentary is relegated to a side panel. In six (one plaque and five caskets), the image shares the scene with Enyas’s rescue of the damsel from the wild man, forming an apparent commentary on lust versus chastity. And in one instance the image occurs in conjunction with scenes from tales of Lancelot and Gawain, most likely due to the relationship of Lancelot and Galahad as father and son. So other than a comment on the value of chastity, Galahad appears to be absent from the visual arts.[xlviii]

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Arthurian Legend Section

March 31‑April 3, 1999

When the Tristan legend does appear in a public setting, it is usually found in an obscure, hard-to-view spot. The S. Floret murals, for instance, are located high up on the walls of the great hall, near the ceiling, which would have rendered them very difficult to view.[i] These murals once again represent a montage of aspects of the tradition rather than a unified story. Inscriptions indicate that the scenes were taken from the Meliadus,[ii] with the exception of the “Tryst Beneath the Tree,” the most popular of all the Tristan motifs--and a scene that is not found in the Meliadus, though it does occur in the Prose Tristan, one of the sources for the Meliadus.[iii]

Six embroideries of the Tristan legend owe their story to a tale that served as a source for Eilhart von Oberg and Gottfried, with Eilhart owing far more to the source than Gottfried.[iv] Three of these embroideries were likely the work of nuns at Wienhausen.[v] One, the Luneburg Embroidery, came from the village church of Emern and was most likely produced in lower Saxony in the fourteenth century.[vi] Another, the Erfurt Tablecloth (c. 1370), originally came from the Benedictine nunnery at Wurzburg.[vii] The sixth, the South Kensington Embroidery (ca. 1370), may have been designed by the same person who designed the Erfurt Tablecloth, given the correlation of scenes between the two embroideries. Another scene of Tristan and Isolde was added in one corner by a different hand. No other contextual information is available,[viii] but some scholars have speculated that the embroideries were intended as wedding gifts. As such, they were meant to be used in private rather than in public spaces, and the moral content of their message directed at the wife.

Beroul’s Tristan, or a source akin to it, provided the images on the ivory casket in the Hermitage.[ix] Produced at Paris (1300-1340), the casket was intended for secular use by a lord or lady.[x] Some panels contain scenes that may not be from Beroul or which may have appeared in a part of Beroul that is now lost.[xi] A related casket from the same workshop shows one sequence of scenes from the Folie Tristan and of Tristan in a pose that is likely copied from a Psalter in conjunction with scenes of other lovers.[xii]

Two mid-thirteenth-century bed-quilts of Sicilian origin depict a strand of the Tristan legend that eventually found written expression in the Tristano Riccardiano, the Tavola Rotunda and the Cuento de Tristan de Leonis.[xiii] The scenes are not sequential; instead to follow the story as we know it requires jumping back and forth, from on quilt to the other. The coverlets were most likely wedding gifts.[xiv]

The “Tryst Beneath the Tree”, which depicts King Mark hiding in a tree above Tristan and Isolde as the lovers meet, is by far the most common Tristan motif in medieval art.[xv] It spans several media: ivories, crystal, wood, embroidery, and stone.

The items are just as varied: caskets, corbels, misericords, and combs. But all of the images I have examined to date were either located in a place that is impossible to view, in a semi-private space, or intended for use in an exclusively private space, with the last of these three divisions predominating.

Lancelot and Gawain: Knights on the Edge

Lancelot’s story also occupied private spaces within the manuscript tradition, but in very specific forms. Lancelot paints murals of himself and Guinevere in the Vulgate Lancelot.[xvi] Arthur views the pictures in the Mort Artu.[xvii] The Vulgate says that the pictures of the love affair were painted in the cell where Morgan held Lancelot.[xviii] In other words, the space was about as private and secular as it was possible to get. In the real world, portrayals of Lancelot are indeed found primarily in private spaces. For instance, his legend is depicted on several ivory caskets that were mass-produced in Paris.[xix] In more public spaces, Lancelot’s figure did not have the same concept of “sacredness” attached to it that Arthur’s did.[xx] For instance, it was okay to whitewash over Lancleot, which is what happened to the only known wall-painting of Lancelot in England.[xxi]

Gawain’s stories from the manuscript tradition, in contrast, often appeared in borderline spaces, locations that were often somehow both private and public. The Perlesvaus, for instance, says that the story of his life was painted in a semi-private, sacred place: on the walls of a chapel in a castle that falls to ruins and is inhabited only by a priest and a clerk when Arthur and Gawain find it.[xxii] In Heinrich von dem Türlin’s Diu Krone (ca. 1220) Gawain sees the tale of one of his adventures on a golden platter.[xxiii] In this case, the context is public rather than private, but the viewing itself is of a rather private nature, since no one else looking at the platter is actually the person depicted there.

When Gawain’s story appears in a private space, it does so in conjunction with a legend from Lancelot’s corpus, and this union happens most frequently on ivory caskets.[xxiv] These caskets were often given as wedding gifts and tended to reside in the bedrooms of the married couple. The tale probably served on as a sermon on morality. Similarly, when Lancelot’s tale appears in a borderline region, as in the case of the capital of the nave of S. Pierre in Caen, the presence of Gawain’s story seems to have influenced the choice to use Lancelot’s legend as well.

Perceval: The Divine Fool

Tales of Perceval were favored for frescoes in dining rooms, but his story also appears on caskets that were intended for use in bed chambers.[xxv] The scenes are taken from several MS traditions, though Chretien’s Conte del Graal and the Estoire and Queste from the Vulgate are the most common sources. Just as the images are found in both public and private spaces, there is an ambiguity in attitudes toward this Grail knight, who, like Lancelot, has his image painted over in some of the murals.[xxvi]

Galahad: The Holy Knight

Galahad, the knight renowned for his chastity, has a curious motif attached to him in the visual arts. Outside of the textual tradition, he appears to show up exclusively in an image in which he obtains the keys to the Castle of Maidens. In three of the depictions, the visual commentary is relegated to a side panel. In six (one plaque and five caskets), the image shares the scene with Enyas’s rescue of the damsel from the wild man, forming an apparent commentary on lust versus chastity. And in one instance the image occurs in conjunction with scenes from tales of Lancelot and Gawain, most likely due to the relationship of Lancelot and Galahad as father and son. So other than a comment on the value of chastity, Galahad appears to be absent from the visual arts.[xxvii]

Ivain, Wigalois, and Garel

The murals of Ivain at Schmalkalden (c. 1250) were found in what is now the cellar.[xxviii]But at the time the murals were created, the portion of the building in question was the ground floor of the residence of the Landgrave’s steward.Although the space in question was not open to the general public, the area comprised a public rather than a private area within the Landgrave’s residence.This is typical for the stories of Ivain, whose image is also found beneath at least five misericords.[xxix]An embroidery (ca. 1324) from Freiburg, in contrast, seems to have been intended solely for a private space.The embroidery was made for Johannes Malterer and his wife.[xxx]

[i]. Loomis and Loomis (1939:57); the murals are frescoes.

[ii]. Loomis and Loomis 1939:58; the Melidaus was derived by combining the Prose Tristan with the Palamedes.

[iii]. Paintings of Tristan also appear on the wood ceiling o f the great hall of the Palazzo Chiaramonte in Palermo (Loomis and Loomis 1939:1961). King Martin, one of the owners of the palazzo, decorated his “horse-trappings” with images from the Lancelot/Guinevere and Tristan/Isolde stories (Loomis and Loomis 1939:61).

[iv].Loomis and Loomis, p. 50.

[v].From Weinhausen, Loomis and Loomis, pp. 51-53; M. Schuette, Gestickte Bildteppiche des Mittelalters, I, Leipzig, 1927, i, xvi; H.W.H. Mithoff, Archiv fur Nidersachsens Kunstgeschichte, Hanover, 1849, II, 9; J. Lessing, Wandteppiche u. Decken des Mittelalters, Pl. 11-13; Pantheon, I, 1928, 89; Burlington Mag., LII, 1928, 27. The inscription that accompanies the oldest Weinhausen embroidery (1300-1325) does not follow the order of the scenes and misidentifies some of the characters in the scenes (Loomis and Loomis, 51). Details on the embroidery do not mactch any surviving written MS and sometimes completely contradict Eilhart and Gottfried. No contextual information other than the place of production is available for this hanging. The second embroidery (1325) was used on the altar steps. The inscriptions seem to have been taken from a French source rather than Eilhart or Gottfried, and the scene with Mark in bed does not match the details from Eilhart, suggesting that the tale was indeed taken from another source. The third embroidery (1340), and the original context is uncertain beyond the place of production. Once again, the inscription and scenes vary distinctly from any surviving written source.

[vi].Loomis and Loomis, pp. 53-54; Schuette, pl. 2, p. 38; W. Reinecke, Wegweiser durch die Sammlungen des Museumvereins fur das Furstentum Luneburg, ed. 3, 1927.

[vii].Loomis and Loomis, p. 56; Anzeiger fur Kunde der Deutschen Vorzeit, 1866, col. 15; A. Overmann, Aeltere Kunstdenkmaler . . . der Stadt Erfurt, Erfurt, 1911, p. 344. Eilhart was the main source, but part was taken from Gottfried and some details are not found in any extant version.

[viii].Loomis and Loomis, pp. 54-55; D. Rock, _South Kensington Museum, Textile Fabrics, Catalogue of the Collection_ (1870), p. 77. The embroidery has been mutilated.

[ix].Loomis and Loomis, p. 55; Koechlin, Ivoires gothiques Paris, 1924, I, 7-33, 360-367, 517, II, 465; Romance Review, VIII, 1917, 196; Pantheon, I, 1928, 75-80.

[x].The casket may have originally been designed without a lid or its original lid may have been lost; the current lid is a forgery. Loomis and Loomis, p. 55-56.

[xi].Ranke in Medieval Studies in Memory of Gertrude Schoepperle Loomis, New York, 1927, p. 87; Tristramssaga, ed. E. Kolbing, chap. 87; cf. Romance REview, VIII, 203 f.

[xii].Loomis and Loomis, p. 56; A. Darcel, Collection Basilewsky, 1874, Texte, p. 196, Pantehon, I, 77, 80; Folie Tristan, ed. Bedier, Paris, 1907; Folie Tristan de Berne, ed. Hoepffner, Paris, 1934; W.H. Grench, C.B. Hale, Middle English Metircal Romances, New York, 1930, p. 938, vv. 169-173; Cf. Oxford Folie, vv. 209 ff.

[xiii]. Loomis and Loomis 1939:63.

[xiv]. Loomis and Loomis 1939:63.

[xv]. Loomis and Loomis 1939:66-69.

[xvi]. Loomis and Loomis 1939:16-17; Malory, who drew on the Vulgate, also describes these pictures.

[xvii]. H.O. Sommer, Vulgate Version of the Arthurian Romances, V (Wash., 1912), pp. 216 ff. and VI, 238; Mort Artu, ed. Frappier (P., 1936), p. 49.

[xviii]. This detail also appears in Malory.

[xix]. Loomis and Loomis 1939:70.

[xx]. The one exception to this rule is the “Sword Bridge” scene on the Caen Capital in the nave of S. Pierre (Loomis and Loomis 1939:71).

[xxi]. Loomis and Loomis 1939:173; “Dugdale’s Warwickshire mentioned briefly a late fresco in the hall of Tamworth Castle of Sir Lancelot du Lac and Sir Tarquin. But so little vale was attached ot the painting, the only painting of Arthurian romance in England of which we have record, that it was white-washed over in 1783. [Vol. II, p. 1138; The painting was probably done between 1554 and 1576, and represented two knights of gigantic size jousting. Cf. Birmingham and Midland Archaeological Institute (1878-79), po. 60; C.F. Plamer, History of the Town and Castle of Tamworth (1845), pp. 368, 417; Gentleman’s Magazine, LVI (1784), 501.”

[xxii]. Loomis and Loomis 1939:17-18; a similar “discovery” scene occurs in the Perlesvaus (ed. Nitze and Jenkins, I, Chicago, 1932, 307f.); High History of the Holy Grail, trans. Sebastian Evans, Branch XXIII, title I.

[xxiii]. Henrich von dem Türlin, Krone, ed. School, vv. 8845-944. Lancelot and Tristam appear on an actual platter of this nature (Loomis and Loomis 1938:70).

[xxiv]. Loomis and Loomis 1939:5, 72.

[xxv]. Loomis and Loomis 1939:73-76.

[xxvi]. Loomis and Loomis 1939:75.

[xxvii]. Galahad’s tale from the Queste is depicted on ivory caskets, which were probably intended as wedding gifts and, in the same manner as other such caskets, were probably intended as visual sermons on morality.

[xxviii]. The images were inspired by the Munich Tristan.

[xxix]. The tale is taken from “Ywain and Gawain.” There is one original and four imitations: Lincoln Cathedral (1375-1400; the probable original), Boston Church, Chester Cathedral, the Chapel at New College, Oxford (ca. 1480), and St. Peter per Mountergate Church, Norwich.

[xxx]. Malterer was a banker. His situation was comparable to that of Niklas Vintler of Schloss Runklestein.

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