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The Deeds of the Dukes of Normandy
The Gesta Normannorum Ducum [The Deeds of the Dukes of Normandy] is a landmark medieval chronicle tracing the rise and fall of the Norman dynasty from its early roots through the pivotal events surrounding the Norman Conquest of England. Originally penned in Latin by the monk William of Jumièges shortly before 1060 and later expanded at the behest of William the Conqueror, the work chronicles the deeds, politics, battles, and leadership of the Norman dukes, especially William’s own claim to the English throne. The narrative combines earlier historical sources with firsthand information and oral testimony to present an authoritative account of Normandy’s transformation from a Viking settlement into one of medieval Europe’s most powerful realms. William’s history emphasizes the legitimacy, military prowess, and governance of the Norman line, framing their expansion, including the conquest of England, as both divinely sanctioned and noble in purpose. Later chroniclers such as Orderic Vitalis and Robert of Torigni continued the history, extending the coverage into the 12th century, providing broader context on ducal rule and its impact. Today this classic work remains a foundational source for understanding Norman identity, medieval statesmanship, and the historical forces that reshaped England and Western Europe between 800AD and 1100AD.
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An Artist's Reminiscences Walter Crane is in Victorian Books.
Our marriage was at last fixed for the following September — the 6th, Mrs. Andrews and her daughters taking up their abode some weeks before in Chandos Street, as the destined temple was All Souls', Langham Place — commonly known as the "extinguisher" church, from its peculiar plain conical spire.
I had duly paid my visit to an old gentleman seated in a dingy office in Doctors' Commons, to whose presence I was conducted, feeling rather nervous, by one of the harmless necessary ticket porters in a little white apron, as described by Dickens. There I duly took a solemn oath, and secured (for a trifling consideration) that priceless and momentous document, a marriage license. There were wedding breakfasts in those days, and even speeches, — but all was over at last, and escaping from the friendly shower of shoes and rice, we were soon rumbling through darkest London in a brougham and tell-tale pair of greys to Liverpool Street Station. Somewhere in the wilds of the City one of our horses fell, and we were soon surrounded by a grinning London crowd, some members of which, however, lent willing hands to get the horse up, and this at last accomplished, presented themselves at the carriage window for tips.
We had planned an extensive tour to Italy by way of the Rhine and the Brenner Pass, but the journey was to be taken in easy stages. The little green books of tickets, from Messrs. Cook's at that time modest office in Fleet Street, allowed for plenty of stoppages on our honeymoonpilgrimage to Rome. We went by way of Harwich and Antwerp, but rested at Harwich the first night or two, and took the night boat on the 9th, and after a calm passage experienced the feeling of delightful strangeness of being in foreign parts on steaming up the Scheldt to Antwerp in the morning, and leaning out of our hotel casement to gaze across the Place de I'Europe to the Cathedral tower, rich with the fantasy of the later Gothic time and instinct with the feeling of Flemish art.