Elaine de Montgris
Awards: Award of Arms, Jambe de Lion, Goutte de Sangue, Order of the Laurel, Summits Grail (arts), Summits Grail (service), Gryphon's Favor (Summits), Golden Torc (3M), Forget-me-not, Pinecone (3M), Mountain Sun (3M), Myrtle Leaf (3M).
A new Laurel (as of 16 December, 2006), Elaine prefers to be addressed with the Old Languedoc title 'Domna', which is equivalent to the English 'Dame'.
SCA activities: Cookery, costuming, Ithra instructor. Particular interests in late 14th and early 15th c culture, the late 12th c and the culture of the Troubadours, medieval Bestiaries, Ceremony and Ritual, and medieval literature (particular areas of study while in the Medieval Studies program at U of Oregon).
Known as 'Lainie to friends, for an affinity for the color orange, and for an especially dense and dangerous brownie recipe.
Persona Info:
Elaine de Montgris: a Woman of letters in France
Greetings, gentle readers, and gracious Peers. As is meet when entering, or even re-entering a place, one should introduce oneself. And as some might be benefitted or find profitable words therein, I will tell my story at some moderate length...
I was born in the year of Our Lord 1364, on the Feast day of Saint Cecilia, near Poitou to a Poitevin mother and a Norman father, and was named Elaine de Saint-Savin. My mother, Helissande de Saint-Savin, was an heiress of some moderate wealth, and from her I inherited some land in Poitou and Anjou, and one estate near Toulouse. She died shortly after my birth, and I was taken to Normandy to be raised there in my father's chateau. My father, Giles of Douvres, called le Rougeaud, did not remarry after my mother's death. I was their only surviving issue, and so I was raised as sole inheritrix of his estates, as well as my mother's.
Douvres is not far from Caen, and I grew up there with gentle hills, outcroppings of limestone, and orchards. I had a nurse, Mathilde, and a tutor, Father Abelard, known as the Lesser. He taught me to read and write French, and to speak a little bit of English. He attempted to teach me Latin, but found I was somewhat thick-headed and illsuited for declining, and I cannot construe unless I have my little book with me. But while I cannot write in fine Latin prose, I can read a little, which does help one's learning. I have read learned and edifying works, and when the Father wasn't looking, French fabliaux and some of Ovid's racier texts.
When I was still in my teens, my father saw fit to marry me to Erec de Montgris, and I went to live in upper Normandy with my husband. He had a substantial estate near Eu, just south of Ponthieu. It is beautiful there, with green fields and salt marshes, and rugged cliffs near the ocean. The castle was built on a hill overlooking the Yères, within sight of the ocean waves.
In short time I produced three children- two daughters and a son. They are now all grown. My older daughter is some miles away, in a bèguinage, where she is being tutored and is learning fine needlework. My younger daughter should be learning rhetoric, but being a beautiful girl is more interested in the suitors crowding around her. I am considering putting her also in a bèguinage, for her own protection! I will however, entertain marriage offers for either of them.
My husband died many years ago, and as our son was his heir, he is being raised up as befits his station. He is learning logic and rhetoric, and literature that instructs and edifies him, to guide his growth and form his character. Naturally, he would rather be playing games with the porter's son, bear-baiting, or hunting...
I spend much time managing my estates, and those that will go to my son when he is of age. This involves a fair amount of travel, which can weary the body and spirit. However, I lost my lands in England, so I no longer have to leave the continent for business. 'Lost' my lands? How did that happen you might ask? During the upheaval surrounding the deposition of Richard and the Usurper's grabbing the throne, a neighbor seized the opportunity to claim my lands as his. As I was in France at the time, and as I was well-known as a supporter of the White Hart, there is little hope of reclaiming the estate. Little matter- it was mostly bogs and brambles. They may crawl up and choke the lord of Easton-Neston, and the world will be better for it...
When I am not travelling, I like to spend time in the salon of the writer, Christine de Pisan. I hope to learn from her the finer points of both prose and poetic form, and homiletic texts as well as lighter fare. I fear she is frustrated with me at times though, for not only am I sadly lacking in skill at Latin, but I do tend to favor the simple laugh rather than the moralizing tone. Truth be told, the last time I was in England (several years ago), I had the great honor to meet one of the King's clerks, a writer and gentleman named Geoffery Chaucer. And he was of such friendly mien and gentle wit that I was well and truly sad to hear of his passing some time later. If only Christine was a little less stern and a little more jolly! Alas, she might be more jolly if I were not such a difficult student!
Of late I have had something of a distraction from my studies- a Gascon named Edouard de Bruyere. He has been acting as seneschal for several of my estates, and appears to have formed something of an attachment to their mistress, though admittedly that might be more of an attraction to my books! He is well bred, well read, and of a fine form. When time will tell, I might remarry, provided I can protect my children's inheritances from disjointure. But my, he has fine eyes!
On this, the eve of the Feast of St Foi, I remain- Elaine, known to her friends as 'Lainie