Latest news with #Cistercians
The National
03-06-2025
- Lifestyle
- The National
Things to do in Melrose, a 'well-to-do oasis' in the Scottish Borders
Not in a bad way: this is a well-to-do oasis that proudly holds on to its heritage, its fiercely independent shops and, yes, its rugby. Melrose is the home of Rugby Sevens, after all. And so much more besides. Melrose is a town built on sturdy foundations. Various English kings tried to shake them in battle and, although its landmark abbey was sacked in the process, the land of the Borders Reivers held firm. Rambling around the abbey's ruins today you get a real sense of both its original grandeur and Melrose's importance when the Cistercians chose it as the site of their first Scottish abbey after David I granted them permission to build in 1136. (Image: Borders Abbey Way) Melrose saw off the Romans, too, letting them mess around with building the doomed Antonine Wall using the Trimontium fort here as a supply depot, before the local tribes combined to kick them out. They were expelled with such force the director of the town's Trimontium Museum, John Reid, once told me: 'Scotland was Rome's Afghanistan'. As well as all manner of exhibits on a Roman theme you can fulfil childhood fantasies and dress up as a scarlet-clad legionnaire or hurl back in time to the days when emperors visited Scotland's largest Roman fort with the aid of the striking new virtual reality headsets in the impressive museum extension that opened last year. You'll need more of your own imagination out at the sprawling fort site, though information boards tell the tales we know so far and the most northerly amphitheatre in the Roman Empire has been unearthed. They've just secured the site for another 25 years so expect some serious digging to follow once all of the usual hurdles have been overcome. This town on the mighty River Tweed swims in history far beyond the Romans. Legend has it King Arthur still lies interred in the Eildon Hills that gave the Romans inspiration for naming their fort. A much earlier Iron Age fortification sits atop one of the three Eildons, offering views of the Tweed Valley, easily up there with the more celebrated 'Scott's View' nearby. (Image: Getty Images) Also in the shadow of the Eildons, just a short walk south of Trimontium, is the Rhymer's Stone. It is on the site where the Eildon Tree once stood, the arbour that transported Thomas the Rhymer off from the Thirteenth Century into the magical world of the fairies. At the time the prophecies and 'wisdom' he returned with were not treated like fairytales. Perhaps King Alexander III should have paid more heed as the soothsayer predicted the monarch's tragic death on that stormy night in Fife. Grounding ourselves back in the solid stone reality of Melrose's High Street, I find the town's residents proud both of their history but also of how Melrose shapes up today. No massive supermarkets – or small ones for that matter – suck the lifeblood out of Melrose's core, which unfurls around a grand mercat cross topped with a unicorn. What Melrose does have is proper wee businesses: an old-world butcher, deli, galleries, wines store, antique shops and even a book binder. There is, too, of course, a locally made Melrose Gin. (Image: Robin McKelvie) Nick Henderson, whose family have run Burt's Hotel for 54 years – and the Townhouse Hotel across the road for 21 years – told me: 'Melrose is a town with one foot in the past and one foot in the present. We are proud of both here and you can easily enjoy both sides as a visitor, which is a large part I think of why people love to come here.' Visitors do come to Melrose but mercifully they don't descend in the campervan-driven hordes that can blight other holiday spots in Scotland. Bar the summer book festival and the annual Melrose Sevens rugby extravaganza, I've never found Melrose overrun. Its environs make the town itself look like Manhattan. On this visit I hiked on the Borders Abbeys Way from Sir Walter's Scott's old Tweed-side gaff at Abbotsford all the way up through the forests and farmland to Lindean Loch and didn't see another human. (Image: Robin McKelvie) At Lindean Loch I did encounter Laura Mitchell, the bubbly presence behind Cedar Hus Sauna. They don't mess about in this corner of Scotland and, pleasantries exchanged, Laura soon led me into the chill waters. Laura wasn't done with just a post-swim sauna either, as she imbued the steam with the spirit-soaring scent of pine, then proceeded to thrash me with birch in a scene definitely more Malmo than Melrose. The Borders Abbeys Way is just one of the impressive local walks. You can hike off from Melrose Abbey on a 68-mile circular hike around the quartet of ruined Borders abbeys or continue the ecclesiastic theme joining St Cuthbert on his way – a 62-mile march south across the border to Lindisfarne. If you're really keen, you can bash over west to Portpatrick on the Atlantic coast, for a challenging long-distance trail that sweeps you from the Borders 215 miles west to the far extremities of Dumfries and Galloway. Community-led Melrose Paths publish a wee map and leaflet revealing some more modest local walks. All too soon – it always is with Melrose – I was leaving, joining the Borders Abbeys Way again as it snakes off west from Melrose along the Tweed. It was just me, a brace of dog walkers, a gaggle of ducks and a buzzard doing a decent eagle impression on the three miles walk along the river and back to Tweedbank railway station. The train nips you from here to Edinburgh in just an hour. I strongly suggest you enjoy a voyage in the other direction and explore the most trim of the Borders market towns. Foodie Melrose Tempest Brewing Co You'd expect a brilliant new venue from a brilliant family-owned brewery and this doesn't disappoint. No mere brewery, this vast space is also a US-style taproom, beer hall, well-stocked shop, beer garden and an informal restaurant. Wash the smash burgers down with beers from the 16 taps, all within staggering distance of Tweedbank railway station. The Townhouse Run by James, brother of Burt's owner Nick, James, there is the choice again between two dining spaces – this time the bright brasserie or the slightly more formal restaurant. Local produce abounds in both. Kick off with the likes of haggis pakora or locally smoked trout, before a sirloin of Borders beef, or sea bream fillets spiced with a Thai curry sauce. Burt's Owner Nick Henderson ensures local produce and local butcher meat feature heavily on both the bar and the restaurant menu. Kick off with the likes of Belhaven smoked salmon then move on to a rump of perfectly pink Borders lamb. They stock the excellent ales from local brewery Tempest Brewery Co too. Bed Down in Melrose Burt's Hotel In the same family – the Hendersons – for five decades, this trim, welcoming hotel on the High Street is perfectly located. Choose from 20 en suite rooms. I first stayed here almost two decades ago and it has barely changed – here that is a very good thing at a traditional hotel that still has an old school residents lounge. The Townhouse Just across the road from Burt's Hotel, this equally welcoming bolthole is also owned and run by the ubiquitous Hendersons. It has a bit more of a contemporary boutique vibe but is still cosy. Harmony House A grand old stone dame owned by the National Trust for Scotland. This palatial retreat is ideal for extended families or groups of friends, as it sleeps a dozen in some comfort. This self-catering option feels like having your own mini-Abbotsford in the heart of Melrose. You also enjoy privileged access to the celebrated Harmony Garden.
The Herald Scotland
03-06-2025
- Lifestyle
- The Herald Scotland
Visiting Melrose, a 'well-to-do oasis' in the Scottish Borders
Rambling around the abbey's ruins today you get a real sense of both its original grandeur and Melrose's importance when the Cistercians chose it as the site of their first Scottish abbey after David I granted them permission to build in 1136. (Image: Borders Abbey Way) Melrose saw off the Romans, too, letting them mess around with building the doomed Antonine Wall using the Trimontium fort here as a supply depot, before the local tribes combined to kick them out. They were expelled with such force the director of the town's Trimontium Museum, John Reid, once told me: 'Scotland was Rome's Afghanistan'. As well as all manner of exhibits on a Roman theme you can fulfil childhood fantasies and dress up as a scarlet-clad legionnaire or hurl back in time to the days when emperors visited Scotland's largest Roman fort with the aid of the striking new virtual reality headsets in the impressive museum extension that opened last year. You'll need more of your own imagination out at the sprawling fort site, though information boards tell the tales we know so far and the most northerly amphitheatre in the Roman Empire has been unearthed. They've just secured the site for another 25 years so expect some serious digging to follow once all of the usual hurdles have been overcome. This town on the mighty River Tweed swims in history far beyond the Romans. Legend has it King Arthur still lies interred in the Eildon Hills that gave the Romans inspiration for naming their fort. A much earlier Iron Age fortification sits atop one of the three Eildons, offering views of the Tweed Valley, easily up there with the more celebrated 'Scott's View' nearby. (Image: Getty Images) Also in the shadow of the Eildons, just a short walk south of Trimontium, is the Rhymer's Stone. It is on the site where the Eildon Tree once stood, the arbour that transported Thomas the Rhymer off from the Thirteenth Century into the magical world of the fairies. At the time the prophecies and 'wisdom' he returned with were not treated like fairytales. Perhaps King Alexander III should have paid more heed as the soothsayer predicted the monarch's tragic death on that stormy night in Fife. Grounding ourselves back in the solid stone reality of Melrose's High Street, I find the town's residents proud both of their history but also of how Melrose shapes up today. No massive supermarkets – or small ones for that matter – suck the lifeblood out of Melrose's core, which unfurls around a grand mercat cross topped with a unicorn. What Melrose does have is proper wee businesses: an old-world butcher, deli, galleries, wines store, antique shops and even a book binder. There is, too, of course, a locally made Melrose Gin. (Image: Robin McKelvie) Nick Henderson, whose family have run Burt's Hotel for 54 years – and the Townhouse Hotel across the road for 21 years – told me: 'Melrose is a town with one foot in the past and one foot in the present. We are proud of both here and you can easily enjoy both sides as a visitor, which is a large part I think of why people love to come here.' Visitors do come to Melrose but mercifully they don't descend in the campervan-driven hordes that can blight other holiday spots in Scotland. Bar the summer book festival and the annual Melrose Sevens rugby extravaganza, I've never found Melrose overrun. Its environs make the town itself look like Manhattan. On this visit I hiked on the Borders Abbeys Way from Sir Walter's Scott's old Tweed-side gaff at Abbotsford all the way up through the forests and farmland to Lindean Loch and didn't see another human. (Image: Robin McKelvie) At Lindean Loch I did encounter Laura Mitchell, the bubbly presence behind Cedar Hus Sauna. They don't mess about in this corner of Scotland and, pleasantries exchanged, Laura soon led me into the chill waters. Laura wasn't done with just a post-swim sauna either, as she imbued the steam with the spirit-soaring scent of pine, then proceeded to thrash me with birch in a scene definitely more Malmo than Melrose. The Borders Abbeys Way is just one of the impressive local walks. You can hike off from Melrose Abbey on a 68-mile circular hike around the quartet of ruined Borders abbeys or continue the ecclesiastic theme joining St Cuthbert on his way – a 62-mile march south across the border to Lindisfarne. If you're really keen, you can bash over west to Portpatrick on the Atlantic coast, for a challenging long-distance trail that sweeps you from the Borders 215 miles west to the far extremities of Dumfries and Galloway. Community-led Melrose Paths publish a wee map and leaflet revealing some more modest local walks. All too soon – it always is with Melrose – I was leaving, joining the Borders Abbeys Way again as it snakes off west from Melrose along the Tweed. It was just me, a brace of dog walkers, a gaggle of ducks and a buzzard doing a decent eagle impression on the three miles walk along the river and back to Tweedbank railway station. The train nips you from here to Edinburgh in just an hour. I strongly suggest you enjoy a voyage in the other direction and explore the most trim of the Borders market towns. Foodie Melrose Tempest Brewing Co You'd expect a brilliant new venue from a brilliant family-owned brewery and this doesn't disappoint. No mere brewery, this vast space is also a US-style taproom, beer hall, well-stocked shop, beer garden and an informal restaurant. Wash the smash burgers down with beers from the 16 taps, all within staggering distance of Tweedbank railway station. The Townhouse Run by James, brother of Burt's owner Nick, James, there is the choice again between two dining spaces – this time the bright brasserie or the slightly more formal restaurant. Local produce abounds in both. Kick off with the likes of haggis pakora or locally smoked trout, before a sirloin of Borders beef, or sea bream fillets spiced with a Thai curry sauce. Burt's Owner Nick Henderson ensures local produce and local butcher meat feature heavily on both the bar and the restaurant menu. Kick off with the likes of Belhaven smoked salmon then move on to a rump of perfectly pink Borders lamb. They stock the excellent ales from local brewery Tempest Brewery Co too. Bed Down in Melrose Burt's Hotel In the same family – the Hendersons – for five decades, this trim, welcoming hotel on the High Street is perfectly located. Choose from 20 en suite rooms. I first stayed here almost two decades ago and it has barely changed – here that is a very good thing at a traditional hotel that still has an old school residents lounge. The Townhouse Just across the road from Burt's Hotel, this equally welcoming bolthole is also owned and run by the ubiquitous Hendersons. It has a bit more of a contemporary boutique vibe but is still cosy. Harmony House A grand old stone dame owned by the National Trust for Scotland. This palatial retreat is ideal for extended families or groups of friends, as it sleeps a dozen in some comfort. This self-catering option feels like having your own mini-Abbotsford in the heart of Melrose. You also enjoy privileged access to the celebrated Harmony Garden.
The Star
16-05-2025
- Science
- The Star
Shaggy surprise on medieval books
MEDIEVAL scribes filled volumes called bestiaries with illustrations and descriptions of fantastic creatures. The manuscripts containing representations of these animals also depended on a menagerie of beasts: the covers of these and other volumes were fashioned from the skins of calves, goats, sheep, deer, pigs and – in some macabre instances – humans. Most of these hides were shorn before they were turned into book bindings. But one set of medieval manuscripts from northeastern France has a peculiar finish: its weathered covers are covered in clumps of hair. A manuscript created during the 12th or 13th century in the scriptorium of Clairvaux Abbey in France, found to be bound in sealskin. 'These books are too rough and far too hairy to be calfskin,' said Matthew Collins, a bioarchaeologist at the University of Copenhagen and Cambridge University and an author of the new study. But identifying the source of the shaggy leather has proved difficult. While these furry tomes would seem at home in a Hogwarts library, they were originally made in the scriptorium of Clairvaux Abbey, a hub for an order of Catholic monks, the Cistercians. The abbey, founded in 1115 in the Champagne-Ardenne region of France, was home to one of the largest monastic libraries in medieval Europe. Some 1,450 volumes of the abbey's extensive corpus survive. Roughly half of these manuscripts remain in their fragile, original bindings. Many were bound during the 12th and 13th centuries in the Romanesque style, which placed the parchment between wooden boards fastened with thread and cord. At Clairvaux Abbey, these Romanesque books were often housed inside a secondary cover that was bristled with fur. Traditionally, this unshorn leather was thought to be made from boar or deer. However, the hair follicles on some of the manuscripts do not match the fur of either mammal. Collins and his colleagues examined the hairy covers of 16 manuscripts that were once housed at Clairvaux Abbey. The researchers rubbed the flesh side of the leather with erasers to carefully remove crumb-size samples. They then utilised a range of techniques to analyse protein sequences and bits of ancient DNA from the leather. Their findings, published on April 2 in the journal Royal Society Open Science, reveal that the books are bound not in the hides of local land mammals, but in sealskin. Several of the books were bound in harbour seal skin, and at least one came from a harp seal. Comparing them with contemporary DNA suggests an origin of the seals in Scandinavia and Scotland, or potentially as far away as Iceland or Greenland. These disparate areas were once connected by a complex medieval trading network. In the Middle Ages, Norse traders harvested walrus ivory and pelts from Greenland and sent them to mainland Europe. While Clairvaux and its monks were far inland from these coastal outposts, the abbey was near a well-trafficked trading route. According to Mary Wellesley, a fellow at the Institute of Historical Research in London who specialises in medieval manuscripts and was not involved in the new paper, its findings shed light on medieval society. 'The small details of manuscripts can tell you so much about the world that created them,' Wellesley said. 'It's a popular assumption that people didn't move around, but these monastic institutions are part of this amazing network of goods, books and ideas.' A microscopic view of the hair fibres on one of the book covers from a French abbey, found to be bound in sealskin. — Matthew Collins and Elodie Leveque/The New York Times Seals were a valuable commodity because of their meat, blubber and waterproof skin, which could be fashioned into boots and gloves. Some records even claim that sealskin was used to pay church taxes. Coastal communities in Scandinavia and Ireland used sealskin to bind books, but the practice was much rarer in mainland Europe. Cistercian monks, though, appear to have had a fondness for sealskin books. Examples of these fur-covered manuscripts have been found in other abbeys that descended from Clairvaux. These monks even used the material to bind their most important documents, such as historical information about St Bernard, a major Cistercian figure. According to Collins, the colour of seal fur may explain the monks' penchant for using the animals' skins. While the manuscripts' covers are now yellowish-grey or splotchy brown, they were once encased in the white fur of seal pups. This shade matched the monks' undyed vestments. 'In medieval Europe, you don't really have anything that's pure white,' Collins said. 'It must have been quite magical.' The seals themselves likely seemed akin to magical entities to the monks: in medieval bestiaries, seals were labelled 'sea calves' and resemble dogs with fish tails, rather than pudgy pinnipeds. — ©2025 The New York Times Company This article originally appeared in The New York Times
The Guardian
10-04-2025
- Science
- The Guardian
Surprise as sealskin is discovered to be cover material of ‘hairy' medieval books
'Hairy' medieval book covers previously thought to be made from deer or boar skin are in fact made of sealskin, researchers have found. The covers of the 12th- and 13th-century books from French monasteries were made using seals believed to be from Scandinavia, Scotland and potentially Iceland or Greenland, hinting at extensive medieval trade networks. Researchers analysed volumes from a Cistercian monastery, Clairvaux Abbey, and its daughter monasteries, identifying 43 sealskin books. 'Contrary to the prevailing assumption that books were crafted from locally sourced materials, it appears that the Cistercians were deeply embedded in a global trading network,' reads the research article, published today in Royal Society Open Science. The books are protected by a cover, or 'chemise', on which hairs remain. While historical library catalogues attribute the skin to either boar or deer, the distribution of the hair follicles does not match either animal. Researchers therefore conducted protein and DNA analysis on the covers, which revealed that harbour seals, a harp seal and a bearded seal were used to make them. The use of sealskin for manuscript covers was common in Scandinavian countries and in Ireland. However, its use in France was 'surprising' to researchers because of the inland location of the monasteries and the lack of evidence of seal populations on the French coast in the middle ages. 'I was like, 'that's not possible. There must be a mistake,'' said Élodie Lévêque, of Panthéon-Sorbonne University in Paris, on finding out that the samples had come back from testing as sealskin. 'I sent it again, and it of course came back as sealskin again.' There is no written record of the purchase of sealskin at Clairvaux Abbey. However, the monasteries may have had access to sealskin because they were located near Norse trading routes, said researchers. The findings support the 'notion of a robust medieval trade network that went well beyond local sourcing, linking the Cistercians to wider economic circuits that included fur trade with the Norse.' Norse settlers arrived in Greenland in the 10th century, remaining until the 13th century, and traded walrus ivory and fur with northern Europe. Sign up to Bookmarks Discover new books and learn more about your favourite authors with our expert reviews, interviews and news stories. Literary delights delivered direct to you after newsletter promotion Today, the sealskins seem brown in colour, but 'it is highly unlikely that Cistercians would have covered their books with brown skins,' wrote the researchers, because brown was characteristic of the Benedictine order – which the Cistercian order branched off from in 1098, seeking a stricter interpretation of the Rule of St Benedict. Cistercians are, instead, known for white clothing and objects, and therefore, sealskin was probably chosen because of its light grey or white colour. The brown colouration seen today is likely due to degradation over time. The monks may not have known that they were using sealskin at the time, as seals were rarely depicted in medieval art. 'In the middle ages, seal exploitation was common in northern Europe and persists in all Arctic cultures today,' said researchers. They were hunted for their meat as a food source, their blubber for heating, and their skin to make clothing including gloves, boots and coats.
The Independent
09-04-2025
- Science
- The Independent
Mystery ‘hairy' material used to make handcrafted medieval book covers finally revealed
Strange 'hairy' covers of books in medieval Europe were made from seal skin obtained from Viking descendants, a new study has found. It is rare to find medieval manuscripts in their original bindings, but some from the 12th and 13th centuries have been preserved in Cistercian libraries such as Clairvaux and its daughter abbeys. The Clairvaux Abbey in Champagne, France, holds nearly 1,500 medieval books written by scribes of the Cistercian Catholic religious order. For a long time, the exact material that was used to make these manuscript covers, called chemises, has remained unclear. Now, scientists subjected over a dozen of these book covers to diverse analysis techniques like mass spectrometry and ancient DNA analysis to find that seals were the source of these bindings. Researchers also analysed another 13 "hairy books" from Cistercian "daughter abbeys" in France, England and Belgium and found that these were also bound by seal skin material. DNA analysis revealed that eight of the skins were from harbor, harp, and bearded seal species likely sourced from their populations in Scandinavia, Scotland, Iceland, Greenland, and 'perhaps Barents-White Sea region'. The findings suggest the Cistercians were linked to wider economic circuits, including fur trade with the Norse descendants of Vikings. However, there is no existing written record of the purchase or any use of sealskin at Clairvaux Abbey. 'We have no written records to explain why monks chose to cover these manuscripts in sealskin, nor can we determine if these covers were a sign of particular value or symbolism,' scientists wrote. The Norse trade network may have also been involved in transporting walrus ivory from the far north into continental Europe, scientists say. 'The widespread use of sealskins in Cistercian libraries such as Clairvaux and its daughter abbeys during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries hints at broader trade networks,' scientists wrote. 'This geographical inference supports the notion of a robust medieval trade network that went well beyond local sourcing,' researchers write. However, seal skin use in bindings appears to have ended just before 1300. Researchers suspect this could be due to the Little Ice Age, which caused Norse settlements to disappear from Greenland. 'Norse hunting methods in the Arctic were not well suited to the increased sea ice resulting from climate change,' scientists wrote. It also remains unclear if the Cistercian monks knew that the fur they obtained on the market was from seals, which they described as the 'sea calf'. The mammal was rarely depicted in medieval art, and neither did it hold a place in heraldry. 'This lack of representation might have contributed to a detachment from the animal's true identity, making it difficult for contemporaries to recognise sealskin as a specific material,' researchers say.
