Historical Background to Basina’s Resolve
The Frisians
The Frisians came most likely from Southern Scandinavia. They settled around 500 BC on the fertile lowlands of the North Sea coast where their economy encompassed agriculture, cattle breeding and textiles. A king headed their nation. They expanded and colonized the region around them. Between 28-47 BC the Romans were unable to conquer the Frisians. Around this time the Angles and the Saxons went to England via the North Sea.
Frisians have always been very independent in cultural, social and political matters. They believed in the Nordic gods and were opposed to Christianity. Because their location gave them access to the sea and to the inner lands via the rivers Rhine and Moselle, they were active traders, were prosperous and possessed goods not found in their own lands. Dorestad, south east of present-day Utrecht, was their commercial center.
Frisia during King Radbod's time AD716
The Franks
The Franks were a Germanic tribe who fought the Romans around 250 AD. By 450 they had formed a nation in the northern region of present-day France. About 600 they were ruled by the Merovingian dynasty in middle France.
From 700-900 the Merovingians were integrated into the Carolingian Empire. The Carolingians took on the Christian faith and from then pursued a mission to conquer and convert other tribes and nations to Christianity.
Frisian King Radbod
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| https://en.Wikipedia.org/wiki/Redbad, King of the Frisians |
From 679-719 King Radbod was the leader of the Frisians. He was a stern opponent of Christianity and the Frankish intrusion. Radbod believed that the Franks wanted to convert the Frisians to Christianity in order to gain access to the Frisians’ valuable trade routes.
Around 700 the Frankish bishop Willibrod arrived in Frisia on a mission to convert its population to the Christian faith and to gain control of the important trading port of Dorestad.
Frankish Saint Wilfrid (Willibrod)
Willibrod tried to convert Radbod and nearly succeeded with his baptism. However, when Radbord heard that he would not find his heathen ancestors in heaven, he was reputed to have said that he preferred spending eternity in hell with his pagan forefathers to living in heaven with his enemies.
Image of original tapestry depicting Radbod entering the baptism tub
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| https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Redbad,_King_of_the_Frisians Embroidery depicting the legend in which the Frisian King Radbod is ready to be baptized by Wulfram (in this embroidery replaced by Wilibrord), but at the last moment refused. From the Museum Catharijneconvent, Utrecht. |
The Gospel book Codex Eyckensis
This Gospel book was assumed to have been written by the Merovingian nobles St Harlindis and St Relindis around 740. Its name is derived from the Frankish language for the oak tree ‘Eyke’.
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| https://www.codexeyckensis.be/harlindis-and-relindis-two-intellectual-pioneers-in-the-maasland- |
The Codex Eyckensis is the oldest book in present day Belgium, Netherlands and Luxembourg. It was used to study and circulate the teachings of Christ. Even though today’s scholars believe that it was written by a male scribe, for 1250 years women were accredited with having produced such a magnificent manuscript. Scholars from all over the world are now restoring and transcribing this book.
Codex Eyckensis
Close up of a page from the Codex Eyckensis
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| https://www.arts.kuleuven.be/english/news/codex_eyckensis |
End of Historical Background
Basina’s Resolve
[The four seasons of the willow tree]
Spring
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| grey green catkins cover the willow trees |
Basina looked through the window to the north. The pale blue sky beckoned. Feelings still too fresh from hurt pained her chest. If only I had followed my heart. Radbod would still be alive. If only! With glassy eyes she turned and faced her pupils.
Basina
Basina pointed the stylus to the winding outline on the parchment that was framed on the stone wall.
‘This is where your great grandparents moved from Middle Francia. But our neighbours, the Frisians have lived on the north of the river for much longer. Six hundred years ago, their forefathers, who were seafarers, arrived and cultivated these flat lands. They raised cattle and made textiles. They also traded along the rivers of the Rhine and Moselle.’
Eckbert could not control himself: ‘My father says that they are a lawless and wild mob of people.’
‘Well, Eckbert, it is true. There have been frictions in the past. And, yes, they are not like us. They are pagan. And they are spirited and independent. Already very long ago, when the Romans invaded Britannia, these invaders could not defeat them. But, the Frisians honour the customs of their ancestors, just like we do, and they are kind, just like we are trying to be.’
She raised her voice a notch while casting a brief cheeky smile toward the boy: ‘is that not right, Eckbert?' Her demeanor turned serious. She twisted a strand of golden hair behind her right ear and with a quiver in her voice continued:
'it was Radbod, who initiated peace between our tribes. So, not only do you have to be kind to each other, but you also have to be kind to those who are different from you.’
Mentioning his name again brought a sharp stab to her heart. She abruptly pointed towards the door.
‘This will be all for today. But, before you go, remember this, children! You may do things in your life that you are not proud of. Things, that you will regret. Don’t let that be. Do something about it! Don’t go into your grave bewailing that you did not change what you could have. Strive always to do the honourable thing!’
After a pause she added: ‘you may leave now.’
As they filed out of the chamber some children nodded, others hurriedly grabbed their bonnets or felt caps, Eckbert just rolled his eyes.
Collecting slates and chalks, styli and the waxed diptychs that was mounted on timber, Basina watched the last child skip away, wondering if any of them understood what she had just told them. She leaned against the heavy oak door frame.
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| Willow Tree |
Spring! It had been her favourite season. New life, new buds, new beginnings, new love. Her gaze wandered to the biggest of the willow trees.
A year ago, that had been the spot where she had felt his presence behind her. She had turned and looked into his dark blue eyes. She had recognised Radbod, the once Frisian foe, by his legendary wild red locks.
Radbod
Four seasons ago Radbod had worked on a framework for a peace treaty. He had convinced his tribe to live in harmony with the Franks. The Northern seas were big enough to allow trade for both. Following on from earlier negotiations in Frisia he approached the Frankish southern soil from the river with proposed amendments to the agreement. With muscular arms he hoisted his boat ashore. He walked around a barn where a slim girl was bantering with geese. Bending up and down, she twirled and threw food scraps into the air as if in offering to the gods. To him her ditty sounded like the ringing of delicate bells. Radbod watched in enchantment. He had heard of the charms of the Noble Adelard's daughter but that was different to being so near her. She turned faster and faster until the fringe of her long skirt got caught in a sweeping willow branch. Radbod rushed and gallantly bent to untwist it.
‘I am, am here, to see your father’ he apologised looking up at her. He soaked in her fine-featured face in which big brown eyes twinkled. Blonde tresses cascaded over her shoulders.‘My father is over there! When you go through that door you will see him in or around the scriptorium’ she replied, pointing to the low set stone building. She hesitated and asked shyly:
‘Why do you wish to see him?'
Radbod explained his purpose. They exchanged more words, enough, to forget the historic animosity that had existed between his clan and her people. Enough for him to almost forget the purpose of his visit. Enough for her, to soften at the way he had looked at her. She was touched by something she knew not.
Recalling the reason for his visit, Radbod bade farewell to the fair maiden. With determined steps he strode towards the abode.
Radbod explained his modifications to the treaty to the Noble Adelard, who had listened prudently.
‘It is not a decision for me alone to make, Radbod! Your proposal has consequences that I alone cannot decide on. I have to consult with bishop Willibrot.'
A flash of the bishop's unforgiving mien passed through Radbod's head when an excited labourer ran towards them calling:
‘Master Adelard, please, come, come, the cattle are arriving!'
‘Excuse me, Radbod, we will continue our negotiations another day. I now must haste,' pointing to the worker he continued, 'you understand. Please see yourself out.’
He gulped, his throat devoid of moisture, as he recalled his earlier encounter with Basina. Small glistening pearls formed on his forehead. He so wanted that image but, he had just proposed revisions for a peace agreement, he wanted to be on friendly terms, did not want to offend, did not want to steal. I must just leave! He furtively surveyed the room. His hand, guided by an unexplained force beyond his control, lifted the sheep skin parchment, rolling it feverishly and slipping it inside his tunic. Oh no, I didn’t. Yes, I did! What if I was seen? You got your treasure! Just leave!
Summer
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| narrow blue green willow leaves dance in the hot breeze |
‘I was just thinking of, ah, it's you! Why, ehm, are you here? What a lovely surprise?' she continued a pitch higher.
Radbod had hoped to just sneak under the window and leave his carved present for her to find.
‘Ahm, I just happen to pass by.' He chuckled: 'well, actually, no, that's silly, I mean, I meant to leave this spoon for you. I whittled it for you from a willow. Our willow, in fact!'
Winking he handed her a miniature ladle.
‘For me, oh, that is so nice. You carved it? Thank you.'
She absorbed the five petals that surrounded the marsh marigold’s heart. How delicately executed, fine and fragile, yet strong enough to transpose her scented oils. As she looked up, she noticed a tiny wooden frame that was attached to a leather string around his neck. She thought that it was whittled in the same pattern as that of the flower of her ladle. But the moment was too quick, the collar of his tunic already covered his neck.
‘I was wondering - it, it is such a hot summer's day, would you like to come for a row in my boat?’
These words escaped before he had thought about them. But Radbod added valiantly and without hesitation, 'we could row up the river, there is a breeze. It is so much cooler!’
Basina forgot about the quill and parchment and joined Radbod in his boat. She had in the past always acted on impulse and thought about her actions after, if at all, much to her father's dismay. Without hesitation she joined Radbod in his boat. They chatted as if they had known each other all their young lives enjoying the nature around them and each others company. Although unfamiliar with the tunes that Radbod plucked on his strings Basina picked up the melody and sang along with her own words. Gliding through the calm water, their hands touched, sending sizzling waves through their young bodies. This extended river excursion ended with a promise to become husband and wife. Radbod’s parting words were: 'I will see your father to get his consent for our union, Basina!'
Autumn
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| rich golden willow leaves are falling |
Radbod had sought Adelard's consent for the hand of his daughter. Wavering, Adelard consulted the bishop. This suited demonic Willibrot's scheme perfectly. Planning for elevation to cardinal, in purple robes with lavish gems set in golden chains, he had endeared himself to Pope Leo in Rome. Leo in turn had tasked Willibrot to convert the leader of the Frisians to Christianity. With this act Papal Rome would have supremacy over the precious Frisian lands. Its possession would enable faster and safer access to the important Irish monasteries. Travel so far had always meant to navigate the more cumbersome land route via Middle Francia.
Thus, Willibrot consented to the marriage on the condition that Radbod convert to Christianity. Once baptised Radbod would have to agree to Frisia being annexed under the umbrella of the almighty church. Though Willibrot had saved that important piece of information for a more suitable moment, like, after the wedding. For now, all had been prepared for the baptism to occur.
Willibrot
'Are you ready to receive the sacraments so I can accept you into the arm of our holy church here on earth and in heaven.'
Willibrot's voice echoed off the stone walls.
Instead of the expected affirmative, Radbod quizzed, 'are my father, my forefathers, and my best friend Buba already in heaven?'
'Those heathens!? Definitely not! Only those who are baptised and who embrace and uphold the teachings of our holy church, are allowed that privilege. Non-believers go to hell!' he thundered. Radbod was angered by this arrogance.
'Actually, if none of my friends or forefathers are in heaven, why would I want to spend my time there with my natural enemies? Then I will rather be in hell with my friends!'
Radbod took his tunic and trousers with measured but resolute manner. Head erect, shoulders straight, he strode out of the monastery.
'Traitor, ignorant heathen,' Willibrot could barely contain his anger. He had just witnessed Radbod's notorious stubbornness. The image of the cardinal's scarlet robe and glittering golden chains dissipated. No! Not for him. He will have the scarlet and gold yet! Does Radbod not have a brother? Rubbing his hands with glee, Willibrot's mood lifted.
. . .
Basina was surprised to see Willibrot come unannounced. 'Father is not here. I will tell him of your visit.''It is you I have come to see, my child. Let us go into the scriptorium!' Basina tensed. Surely, he is not going to chastise my writing again? She sat on the edge of her father's chair.
'My child, when your dear mother passed away, I promised her that I would always look after you and make sure you obey god's will. I have had your best interest at heart. It was at my request that you were instructed in the art of reading and writing. You are the only child in Dorestat and surrounds who is allowed to write the Codex.'
After a short pause he added: 'Indeed, you were also taught how to heal the ill. It is now your turn to honour your mother's last wish. To give back to our almighty. And his representative on earth - the church!'
Basina's palms were getting moist despite the cool air of autumn. Why does he have to talk about mother? What does he want from me?
'Basina, you were going to marry Radbod.'
‘I still am!'
'Hush, child. Let me finish. Radbod will not convert to our faith. You know that you cannot marry a heathen, your mother and the church would not permit it. It is a sin!'
Willibrot slammed his fist onto the table. 'But his younger brother, Alsgisl, he is different! I have had secret meetings with him. He will convert to Christianity!'
Willibrot licked his lips and thought of Alsgisl's lame handshake, so different to that of his forthright brother, and continued:
'Under Alsgisl's leadership our great land could unite with Frisia. You would be queen of both. Your mother would be so proud. Even the Pope would support your union.' Again, the scarlet and gold flashed through his mind, prompting an emphatic: 'it is your duty!'
'But, but what, what about Radbod? He is the Frisians’ leader!'
'His people are discontent, they would support Alsgisl's allegiance to Rome, they do not want Radbod's unpredictable ways. Do you not wish for a Christian existence for both our tribes?' He paused for effect. 'In any case you owe it to your mother. I expect your obedience! Await my further instructions!'
Puffing his chest, the expectant cardinal got up, swished his red robe, and left.
Basina put her head onto the tabletop. Oh mother, what am I going to do? I remember the last thing you said to me. To say my prayers. To obey god's will. Is that what you want me to do? But I love Radbod. I don't want to marry Alsgisl. He is so despicable. She stood up. Alright, if I can not marry Radbod, I will not marry at all!
Willibrot licked his lips and thought of Alsgisl's lame handshake, so different to that of his forthright brother, and continued:
'Under Alsgisl's leadership our great land could unite with Frisia. You would be queen of both. Your mother would be so proud. Even the Pope would support your union.' Again, the scarlet and gold flashed through his mind, prompting an emphatic: 'it is your duty!'
'But, but what, what about Radbod? He is the Frisians’ leader!'
'His people are discontent, they would support Alsgisl's allegiance to Rome, they do not want Radbod's unpredictable ways. Do you not wish for a Christian existence for both our tribes?' He paused for effect. 'In any case you owe it to your mother. I expect your obedience! Await my further instructions!'
Puffing his chest, the expectant cardinal got up, swished his red robe, and left.
Basina put her head onto the tabletop. Oh mother, what am I going to do? I remember the last thing you said to me. To say my prayers. To obey god's will. Is that what you want me to do? But I love Radbod. I don't want to marry Alsgisl. He is so despicable. She stood up. Alright, if I can not marry Radbod, I will not marry at all!
Winter
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| handsome willow bark sleeps under a mantle of frost |
After Basina's enforced change of heart Radbod went into overdrive with repair work to his boat. For weeks he had been replacing planks of timber. In his mind he was devising strategies of how to overcome the hurdles preventing his and Basina's marriage. He was sure of her affection. I know that she still loves me!
It was mid-afternoon, the winter sun hung low, sending the last weak light beams over the murky river. Radbod was bent over inside the boat, finishing off the waxing and polishing with vigour. Straightening his back, he stretched out his arms. What was that? A piercing pain shot through his body. Its velocity threw him onto his knees. His left arm instinctively touched his right side. Pain, wet! Arrow with head? His arm slit down his chest. Blood, much! Why? His head started to feel light, his mouth dry, his vision faded. Radbod slumped into his boat. It started to drift.
A passing boater saw Radbod's rudderless vessel. Seeing the bloodied man with the arrow in his back, the boater towed him to the nearest homestead. There he carried Radbod over his shoulder towards Adelard's scriptorium.
'Quick, this man is wounded,' he shouted.
Basina rushed to get bandages, ointment and her trusty vial of Mille folium. She hurriedly entered to tend the injured. Her father was already bending over the body.
'Basina, I am so sorry!'
Why would father be sorry? In an instant she knew. Oh no, red locks! My love! The man she had promised to marry and did not. She leaned over with tenderness, ready to apply her healing skills. Radbod moaned faintly and half opened his lids. Their eyes locked. His lips moved to smile:
'Basina, I love you' was barely audible, but she had heard it.
His lids closed as his last breath brushed her cheeks. She frantically tried to remove his shirt, but it was too late.
The leather string around his neck was twisted. With tears streaming down her face she gently untangled it. Her fingers touched something wooden. Of course! She remembered thinking that she had seen it on his neck in the summer of their love. She felt the little wooden frame. The same marsh marigold as that on her ladle was carved around the perimeter. She held it in her left hand and unlatched the tiny lock. The green semi-circle around her image was unmistakable. So, it had not been the geese after all! Smiling mournfully while wiping tears, she looked at the pale grey sky. I will be true to you, and only you!
A few days later Radbod's assassin confessed that he had been blackmailed into that deed by Willibrot. At the exposure of the bishop's scheming conspiracies, Adelard realised how misguided he had been.
'Basina, my sweet daughter, I am so sorry. What will comfort you at this time of your grief?'
'Father, if only I had been steadfast. If only I had had the courage to stand firm for my love and not be swayed by false threats. I wish there was less greed amongst people. Radbod would still be with us and I would live on the other side of the river with him.'
She swept her tears away.
'But father, if you build a chamber for me, I could teach the children. They would benefit from being able to read and write, to heal, and to learn about our forefathers and doing the right thing in life. I could teach them skills that are reserved only for noble families. Surely that is an honourable thing to do?
She added very softly, as if talking to herself:
'And may be some young girl will not make the same mistake that I had made.'
And that, was Basina's resolve.
copyright © herlinde cayzer
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