That particular weekend was the first of two in which Ronneburg hosted a Mittelalterliche Burgfestspiele, a Middle Ages Festival. Once when I was in middle school, I went with a school group to a Renaissance Festival set in a wooded area near Atlanta. Then, the festival was a haven for social waywards who wore amulets clutched in claws about their necks and preferred Dungeons and Dragons to shopping malls (not that there is anything wrong with that). At that particular Renaissance festival, turkey legs and mutton were sold along side Rapunzel-like conically shaped hats covered in satin with tulle trailing down behind it (admittedly, I bought such a hat and kept it for some time and recycled it for Halloween once). Throughout the day, fools mingled with the crowd jingling the bells on the shoes and hats. I watched a man forge a sword and groups of ladies wearing polyester replica period garb deliver tin cups of ale to crowds in beer tents. At the time, I thought it odd that such a festival should be held in Atlanta where nothing remotely resembling the Renaissance took place.
Setting off to Ronneburg, I expected something in the same vein, though I acknowledged the castle and area would lend an authenticity that the other festival lacked. The drive itself was a pleasant one on heavily wooded roads winding up hill and down hill like those my family traveled to go to my grandparents’ home when I was little; you know the kind of roads that if you drive fast enough up hill, then your stomach catches in your throat as you crest it. On two occasions, we passed horse drawn carts and several riders on horseback.
The area surrounding Ronneburg was rural and compromised of pastures and cultivated hillsides. The castle was visible upon its prominent hilltop from some distance. After parking on a steeply sloping hill and wondering if the emergency brake could withstand the pitch, the kiddos and I set about walking to the castle’s entrance. Upon walking through the gates guarded by warders with pikes, I was astonished to find that the kiddos and I were nearly the only ones of those present who had not dressed the part! Most of the period pieces worn by other guests appeared to be true to history and were comprised of homespun fabrics and neatly stitched leather. Some of those at the festival were richly garbed while others wore the simple attire of wenches (some even wore mouthpieces so that their teeth appeared misshapen and dark).
Vendor stalls lined the paths on both sides of the path leading toward and around the castle, and all sorts of medieval wares (most of which were hand-made) were available for purchase: swords, daggers, scabbards, vials hung on chains (maybe those social waywards were on to something), leather shoes which drew to a sharp point at the toe culminating in two straps to be tied around one’s calves, aprons, kerchiefs, blouses, trousers, stockings, braided ribbon hair adornments, silver goods, apothecary elixirs, and foodstuffs (no turkey legs or muttons). A stage had been erected in the center of the festival on which magicians performed, bards sang, and others dueled. Just below the festival on a hillside, crisp white tents had been erected and housed the knights dressed in heavy armor and chain mail that fought in the jousting tournaments throughout the day. After perusing the stalls and buying wooden shields painted with a lion crest and small wooden swords, we watched a falconry exhibition and walked through the damp castle.
Based on a pamphlet I picked up, Ronneburg appears to have been settled as a village (burg) in 1258, and the castle was completed in the fourteenth century. The air in the castle was dank and heavy with moisture. Stone steps were well worn and we walked along the sides of the steps as the middles dipped low from long wear. All of the kiddos were impressed with the massive well and wooden water wheel that hoisted a large wooden bucket from the depths of 96 meters.
Once we made a full pass through the accessible areas of the castle, the kiddos and I revisited the stalls and sought out food. Bop chose a bag of roasted nuts mixed with dried figs and candied fruit. Log, Littlest and I shared Apfelkringels, thinly sliced circles of apples battered and fried. The fried apples were served with a thick vanilla sauce and were delicious. Another food stall featured wood burning ovens into which freshly rolled yeast dough was placed. The dough, looking something like pizza save that it was ovular, was topped with a variety of vegetables and cheeses making for a savory pie. Taverns sold spiced ciders and wines alongside of traditional beers served in pewter mugs. Interestingly enough, one had to pay several euros toward a deposit to drink out of the mugs. After finishing, a customer would return the mug to the tavern and receive a refund.
The weather cooperated beautifully that date, though it was a bit chilly. Log and Littlest now have an enthusiasm for knights and ladies.
Armor and Weaponry
Wood-burning ovens
Water Wheel
Taverns and ale
'Pizzas' fired in a wood burning oven
No comments:
Post a Comment