Academic literature on the topic 'Nobility of robe'

RESUMEN No es difícil constatar que la presencia de bandas armadas en los campos castellanos fue bastante frecuente a lo largo de los siglos XIII-XV. Profundizando un poco más se observa –también con relativa facilidad– que los objetivos que tenían no quedaban solamente en el robo o el secuestro. Por el contrario, tales bandas, aunque diversas, se insertaban perfectamente en la conflictividad política de la época y en el entramado de la sociedad feudal. Tal es el objeto de estudio de este artículo, en cuyas páginas proponemos indagar en la variedad que presentan estos grupos para poner de manifiesto sus características, objetivos y causas. De este modo comprobaremos que la violencia depredadora que practicaban estaba a menudo orientada por los poderes de la época, a cuyas pautas e intereses servían. A tal fin comenzaré tratando acerca de golfines y almogávares a fines del siglo XIII, cuya peripecia nos permitirá una primera reflexión acerca de los factores que rodean la práctica del bandidaje. Después avanzaremos cronológicamente hacia el siglo XV, siempre atentos a las agrupaciones que, adecuadamente organizadas, tenían capacidad para llevar a cabo delitos graves en despoblado y al contexto en el cual surgían. PALABRAS CLAVE: bandas armadas, Castilla, golfines, nobleza, violencia ABSTRACT It is not difficult to show that the presence of armed bands in the Castilian countryside was quite frequent throughout the XIII-XV centuries. If we go more deeply, we can observe, with relative ease, that their purpose was not only thefts and kidnapping. On the contrary, although varied in their nature, they were fully involved in the political tensions of that period as well as in the framework of the feudal society. This is the study objective of this article. Consequently, we propose to inquire into the wide range of these groups with the aim of making their characteristics, objectives and causes clear. In this way we will confirm that their violence was often guided by the powers of the time and that they served their rules and interests. To this end, we will start by looking at golfines and almogávares of the end of the XIII century. Their behavior will allow us to make an initial reflection about the factors that surround the practice of banditry. Then we will continue chronologically to the XV century, always focused on properly organized groupings that had the capacity to carry out serious offenses in deserted areas and the context in which they arose. KEY WORDS: armed bands, Kingdom of Castile, golfines, nobility, violence

The Church of St. Stephan, in this paper, belonged to a medieval residential complex above the confluence of the River Piva and the River Tara, in the extreme northeast of the present-day Republic of Montenegro. The central part of the complex consisted of Soko-grad, a castle with the court of the prominent, aristocratic, Kosaca family, which, at the end of the 14th century, right until the Turkish conquests in the sixties and seventies of the 15th century, ruled the regions later known as Hercegovina. At the foot of the castle, on Scepan polje, is the suburb with the Church of St. Stephan the endowment of the grand duke, Sandalj Hranic (+1345). At the foot of the northern slope, beneath the castle, in the area of Zagradja, is another church erected by the grand duke's successor, Herzeg Stefan Vukcic Kosaca (+1465). After the Turkish conquest, the complex of the Soko castle with its suburb was destroyed and the churches became deserted and were never renewed. The ruins of St. Stephan were discovered, investigated and then conserved from 1971-973, however, the results of this research have not been published until now. In reviewing the results obtained in the course of the archaeological excavations, it is possible, in a considerable measure, to comprehend the position and former appearance of the Church of St. Stephan and establish roughly, the time when it came into being. This was the largest church erected in the regions governed by the powerful, Kosaca noble family, during the 15th century. The total length of the church exceeded 25 metres and its width was approximately ten metres. In the preserved body of the construction, of which the remaining walls rise to a height of four metres one may see three basic stages of building. A narthex was later erected beside the church, and subsequently a small parakklesion was added, on the northern side. The original church had a single nave, a cruciform base and a gently, horseshoe-shaped apsis, facing east, flanked by rectangular choirs. The interior of the church, with two pairs of small pilasters, was articulated in three bays of almost equal dimensions. The altar, encompassing the apsis and the eastern bay, was separated from the naos by a constructed altar partition-wall, the essential appearance of which can be assumed on the basis of whatever was found. The entire surface of the constructed iconostasis was covered with frescoes. The floor of the naos was a step lower than the floor of the altar. Flooring made of mortar, like in the altar area also existed in the choirs. As opposed to these spaces, in the central and western bays, the floor was made of large, hewn stone slabs. The finds discovered in the debris, offered an abundance of data about the upper, now collapsed, structures of the church, and about the stonemasonry that decorated this building. The church did not have a dome but all three bays were topped by a single vault of carved calcareous stone, reinforced by two arches, resting on the pilasters. We may assume that the roof structure was of the Gothic type, and ribbed at the base. Above the choirs were lower semi-spherical vaults, perpendicular in relation to the longitudinal axis of the church. They were covered by gabled roofs that ended in triangular frontons on the northern and southern fa?ade, like the main vault on the eastern side above the altar apsis. The roof of the church was made of lead. A belfry, of unique construction, existed on the western side of the original church. It stood about one meter in front of the western wall and was linked by a vaulted passage to the main body of the building. All these parts were structurally inter-connected, indicating that they were built at the same time. The position and appearance of the original church windows can almost certainly be determined according to the preserved traces on the remaining sections of the walls, and the finds of the relevant stonemasonry. In the interior of the naos, along the southern wall of the western bay was the grave of the donor of the church of St. Stephan, Grand Duke Sandalj Hranic. This was the traditional position where the donor was buried, according to the custom or rather, the rule that had been practiced for centuries in the countries of the Byzantine Orthodox Christian world, and particularly in the Serbian lands. The duke's grave, marked by a stele in the form of a massive low coffin on a pedestal, was prepared while the church was being built given that it would have been impossible to install this large monolith that weighed approximately 2.5 tons in the church, later. Generally speaking, the donor's grave in the church of St. Stephan, is eloquent testimony of the donor's aspirations and beliefs. Besides the undoubtedly local feature of a funerary monument in the form of a stele, all its other characteristics emulate earlier models from the region of the Serbian lands. In front of the original church, at a later stage, which apparently followed soon after, a spacious narthex with a rectangular base was added on. Pylons of the belfry substructure were fitted into its eastern wall, which seems to have made that wall much thicker than the other walls of the narthex. This later erected narthex was not vaulted, which we concluded after analysing the preserved walls and the finds in the debris. Apparently, it had a flat ceiling construction, supported by massive beams that rested on consoles along the length of the northern and southern walls. The side entrances when the narthex was built were of the same dimensions as its western portal. However later, before installing the stone doorposts, both these entrances were narrowed down on their western, lateral sides, while the southern portal, in a later phase, was completely walled up. In the course of exploration, no reliable data was discovered regarding the position of the windows in the narthex. One can only assume that monophoric windows existed on the lateral walls, one or two on each side, similar to the monophores in the western bay. Apart from the narthex, another, later construction was observed next to the original church. On its northern side, along the western bay and the lateral side of the choir, a parakklesion, that is, a small funerary chapel was added on, in the middle of which a large stele once stood, of which now only fragments exist. The entire interior of the church of St. Stephan was deco-rated with frescoes. Rather small fragments of the wall painting were discovered in the debris, not only of the original church but also of the narthex, as well as of the northern funerary chapel. It was observed that they were all of the same quality, painted on mortar of a uniform texture which suggests that all the painting was done as soon as the additional buildings were finished. On the discovered fragments, one can recognise the dark blue back-ground of the former compositions, and the borders painted in cynober. On several fragments, there were preserved sections of or whole letters from Serbian Cyrillic texts. On several fragments that may have originated from the aureoles or parts of robes, traces of gold leaf were visible, which would indicate the splendour and representativeness of the frescoes that decorated the endowment of the grand duke, Sandalj Hranic. With the shape of the foundation of a single-nave church, divided into three bays and with rectangular choir spaces, the church of St. Stephan continued the tradition of the early Rascia school of Serbian architecture (13th beginning of 14th century), which represented a significant novelty at the time when it appeared. In Serbia, in the last decades of the 14th and the beginning of the 15th century, the predominant plan of the churches, the triconche, was based on the Holy Mount models. The decision by the donor, the grand duke Sandalj, to give his endowment the features of the earlier, Rascia heritage, in the times when the Serbian territories had been broken up and were exposed to pressure from external enemies, undoubtedly had a deeper significance. By relying on the earlier tradition, which is also reflected in the dedication of the church to St. Stephan, the patron saint of the state and of the Nemanjic dynasty, the donor expressed the aspiration to consolidate his authority more firmly in the regions that had previously formed part of the Serbian state. By erecting an endowment, and a funerary church that he wished to be his eternal resting-place, Sandalj was also demonstrating that he ranked among his predecessors, the Serbian rulers and nobility. One can see this from the choice of the traditional burial position, along the southern wall of the western bay, as well as from the tomb he had prepared for himself during his lifetime. Apart from the basic idea and plan of the church based on the Rascia tradition, the features of its architecture also exhibit other influences. Of crucial importance here was the choice of builders, who undoubtedly came from the coastal area, which is reflected both in the structural solutions, as well as in the decorative stonework. However, local master-craftsman undoubtedly took part in this achievement. One can see this particularly when observing the stonework which, besides some admittedly rather rare, better-carved pieces, consists of a great deal of carving by less experienced artisans. The assumptions about the origin of the architecture and the builders are substantiated by observing the preserved traces of the frescoes, which show that the decoration of St. Stephan's and the adjacent narthex was also entrusted to one of the coastal painters. Perhaps it was the well-known Dubrovnik painter Dzivan Ugrinovic, who is known to have been commissioned by the grand duke Sandalj in 1429. There is no direct or reliable record of the date when the endowment of the grand duke Sandalj Hranic or its later annexes were built. The stylistic analysis of the stonework makes it possible only roughly to attribute it to the first half of the 15th century. The year 1435 provides a slightly narrower span of time, which is the time of Sandalj's funeral, when it would appear that the church of St. Stephan was already finished. The data mentioned earlier regarding the engagement of builders from Dubrovnik and the possible later decoration, enables us to date it more exactly. Therefore, we may assume that the church itself was erected before the end of the second decade of the 15Lj century. The additional construction of the narthex may have followed soon after the completion of the church itself, as indicated by the stylistically uniform stonework. If we accept the possibility that the church was decorated at the end of the third decade of the 15S century, and that this was finished both in the church and the narthex at the same time the year 1429 would be the terminus ante quem for the completion of the additional construction. The Kosaca endowment, erected beside the Soko castle, offers new evidence about this prominent, noble or ruling family, and particularly about their religious affiliation. Historians, almost as a rule consider the Kosaca family to have been Bogumils, or people whose religious convictions were not particularly firm. Such views were based on the fact that Sandalj Hranic, the grand duke of Rusaga Bosanskog (of the Bosnian kingdom) and his successor, the duke and subsequently the herzeg, Stefan Vukcic, were tolerant towards the Bogumils and were often surrounded by people who upheld such religious beliefs, which was the political reality of the times in which they lived and functioned. On the other hand, the enemies of the Kosaca family made use of this to depict them to the Western and Eastern Christians as heretics, which was not without consequences. The distorted view of their religious conviction not only accompanied them during their lifetime but persists even today, not only in historiography but in present-day politics, as well, particularly after the recent wars in ex-Yugoslavia. The origin of the Kosaca family is connected with the region of the Upper Drina, that is to say, the region that had always been a part of the Nemanjic state, where there were no Bogumils, nor could there be. As owners of part of what had always been the Serbian lands, which went to Bosnia after the tragic division between Ban Tvrtko and Prince Lazar, the consequences of which are still felt today, the Kosaca very soon became independent rulers of this territory, forming a specific territory that later came to be known as Herzegovina. Another element that also bears weight in this respect is the fact that, in contrast to central Bosnia where the Bogumil heresy was influential, the population in the Kosaca lands was Orthodox Christian, with a certain number of Catholics in the western parts. The fact that the regions they ruled were nominally within the Bosnian kingdom, where the ruling class were predominantly Bogumils for a long time did not have any fundamental bearing on their religious affiliation. Significant records have been preserved of their unconcealed Orthodox Christian orientation. Without going into the details of this complex circle of problems, which requires a separate study, especially after the more recent discoveries and facts that have come to light, we shall dwell only on some facts. During the rule of Grand Duke Sandalj and his successor, Herzeg Stefan, which lasted almost seventy years, a whole series of Orthodox Christian churches were erected. During the first half of the 15th century, a kind of renaissance of the Rascia school of architecture came about in this area. In the words of V.J. Djuric, the endowments of the Kosaca family 'are different from the average buildings of their time by virtue of their size sometimes the unusual solutions, and the great beauty of form and proportions'. The wealth of the family and the continual relations with aitists from the southern Adriatic coastal cities imbued their architecture with buoyancy and significance. The western stylistic features of the churches of the Kosaca, and the Gothic language of the stonemasons, reveal the centres where these master craftsmen had learned their trade. With the erection of the endowment in the 'ruling seat' beneath Mt. Soko and the churches intended as their final resting-places, the Kosaca distinguished themselves as the last continuers of the Nemanjic tradition of earlier centuries, in the time that preceded the final Turkish conquest of the Serbian lands. The memory of their work is preserved in the church of St. Stephan and the nearby church at Zagradja, as well as in the rains of the Soko castle, which still lies waiting to be researched.

What we wear signals our membership within groups, be theyorganised by gender, class, ethnicity or religion. Simultaneously our clothing signifies hierarchies and power relations that sustain dominant power structures. How we dress is an expression of our identity. For Veblen, how we dress expresses wealth and social stratification. In imitating the fashion of the wealthy, claims Simmel, we seek social equality. For Barthes, clothing is embedded with systems of meaning. For Hebdige, clothing has modalities of meaning depending on the wearer, as do clothes for gender (Davis) and for the body (Entwistle). For Maynard, “dress is a significant material practice we use to signal our cultural boundaries, social separations, continuities and, for the present purposes, political dissidences” (103). Clothing has played a central role in historical and contemporary forms of political dissent. During the French Revolution dress signified political allegiance. The “mandated costumes, the gold-braided coat, white silk stockings, lace stock, plumed hat and sword of the nobility and the sober black suit and stockings” were rejected as part of the revolutionary struggle (Fairchilds 423). After the storming of the Bastille the government of Paris introduced the wearing of the tricolour cockade, a round emblem made of red, blue and white ribbons, which was a potent icon of the revolution, and a central motif in building France’s “revolutionary community”. But in the aftermath of the revolution divided loyalties sparked power struggles in the new Republic (Heuer 29). In 1793 for example anyone not wearing the cockade was arrested. Specific laws were introduced for women not wearing the cockade or for wearing it in a profane manner, resulting in six years in jail. This triggered a major struggle over women’s abilities to exercise their political rights (Heuer 31).Clothing was also central to women’s political struggles in America. In the mid-nineteenth century, women began wearing the “reform dress”—pants with shortened, lightweight skirts in place of burdensome and restrictive dresses (Mas 35). The wearing of pants, or bloomers, challenged gender norms and demonstrated women’s agency. Women’s clothes of the period were an "identity kit" (Ladd Nelson 22), which reinforced “society's distinctions between men and women by symbolizing their natures, roles, and responsibilities” (Ladd Nelson 22, Roberts 555). Men were positioned in society as “serious, active, strong and aggressive”. They wore dark clothing that “allowed movement, emphasized broad chests and shoulders and presented sharp, definite lines” (Ladd Nelson 22). Conversely, women, regarded as “frivolous, inactive, delicate and submissive, dressed in decorative, light pastel coloured clothing which inhibited movement, accentuated tiny waists and sloping shoulders and presented an indefinite silhouette” (Ladd Nelson 22, Roberts 555). Women who challenged these dress codes by wearing pants were “unnatural, and a perversion of the “true” woman” (Ladd Nelson 22). For Crane, the adoption of men’s clothing by women challenged dominant values and norms, changing how women were seen in public and how they saw themselves. The wearing of pants came to “symbolize the movement for women's rights” (Ladd Nelson 24) and as with women in France, Victorian society was forced to consider “women's rights, including their right to choose their own style of dress” (Ladd Nelson 23). As Yangzom (623) puts it, clothing allows groups to negotiate boundaries. How the “embodiment of dress itself alters political space and civic discourse is imperative to understanding how resistance is performed in creating social change” (Yangzom 623). Fig. 1: 1850s fashion bloomersIn a different turn is presented in Mahatma Gandhi’s Khadi movement. Khadi is a term used for fabrics made on a spinning wheel (or charkha) or hand-spun and handwoven, usually from cotton fibre. Khadi is considered the “fabric of Indian independence” (Jain). Gandhi recognised the potential of the fabric to a self-reliant, independent India. Gandhi made the struggle for independence synonymous with khadi. He promoted the materials “simplicity as a social equalizer and made it the nation’s fabric” (Sinha). As Jain notes, clothing and in this case fabric, is a “potent sign of resistance and change”. The material also reflects consciousness and agency. Khadi was Gandhi’s “own sartorial choices of transformation from that of an Englishman to that of one representing India” (Jain). For Jain the “key to Khadi becoming a successful tool for the freedom struggle” was that it was a “material embodiment of an ideal” that “represented freedom from colonialism on the one hand and a feeling of self-reliance and economic self-sufficiency on the other”. Fig. 2: Gandhi on charkha The reappropriating of Khadi as a fabric of political dissent echoes the wearing of blue denim by the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) at the 1963 National Mall Washington march where 250,000 people gather to hear Martin Luther King speak. The SNCC formed in 1960 and from then until the 1963 March on Washington they developed a “style aesthetic that celebrated the clothing of African American sharecroppers” (Ford 626). A critical aspect civil rights activism by African America women who were members of the SNCC was the “performance of respectability”. With the moral character of African American women under attack (as a way of delegitimising their political activities), the female activists “emphasized the outward display of their respectability in order to withstand attacks against their characters”. Their modest, neat “as if you were going to church” (Chappell 96) clothing choices helped them perform respectability and this “played an important performative role in the black freedom struggle” (Ford 626). By 1963 however African American female civil rights activists “abandoned their respectable clothes and processed hairstyles in order to adopt jeans, denim skirts, bib-and-brace overalls”. The adoption of bib-and-brace overalls reflected the sharecropper's blue denim overalls of America’s slave past.For Komar the blue denim overalls “dramatize[d] how little had been accomplished since Reconstruction” and the overalls were practical to fix from attack dog tears and high-pressure police hoses. The blue denim overalls, according to Komar, were also considered to be ‘Negro clothes’ purchased by “slave owners bought denim for their enslaved workers, partly because the material was sturdy, and partly because it helped contrast them against the linen suits and lace parasols of plantation families”. The clothing choice was both practical and symbolic. While the ‘sharecropper’ narrative is problematic as ‘traditional’ clothing (something not evident in the case of Ghandi’s Khandi Movement, there is an emotion associated with the clothing. As Barthes (6-7) has shown, what makes ‘traditional clothing,’ traditional is that it is part of a normative system where not only does clothing have its historical place, but it is governed by its rules and regimentation. Therefore, there is a dialectical exchange between the normative system and the act of dressing where as a link between the two, clothing becomes the conveyer of its meanings (7). Barthes calls this system, langue and the act of dressing parole (8). As Ford does, a reading of African American women wearing what she calls a “SNCC Skin” “the uniform [acts] consciously to transgress a black middle-class worldview that marginalised certain types of women and particular displays of blackness and black culture”. Hence, the SNCC women’s clothing represented an “ideological metamorphosis articulated through the embrace and projection of real and imagined southern, working-class, and African American cultures. Central to this was the wearing of the blue denim overalls. The clothing did more than protect, cover or adorn the body it was a conscious “cultural and political tool” deployed to maintain a movement and build solidarity with the aim of “inversing the hegemonic norms” via “collective representations of sartorial embodiment” (Yangzom 622).Fig. 3: Mississippi SNCC March Coordinator Joyce Ladner during the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom political rally in Washington, DC, on 28 Aug. 1963Clothing in each of these historical examples performs an ideological function that can bridge, that is bring diverse members of society together for a cause, or community cohesion or clothing can act as a fence to keep identities separate (Barnard). This use of clothing is evident in two indigenous examples. For Maynard (110) the clothes worn at the 1988 Aboriginal ‘Long March of Freedom, Justice and Hope’ held in Australia signalled a “visible strength denoted by coherence in dress” (Maynard 112). Most noted was the wearing of colours – black, red and yellow, first thought to be adopted during protest marches organised by the Black Protest Committee during the 1982 Commonwealth Games in Brisbane (Watson 40). Maynard (110) describes the colour and clothing as follows:the daytime protest march was dominated by the colours of the Aboriginal people—red, yellow and black on flags, huge banners and clothing. There were logo-inscribed T-shirts, red, yellow and black hatband around black Akubra’s, as well as red headbands. Some T-shirts were yellow, with images of the Australian continent in red, others had inscriptions like 'White Australia has a Black History' and 'Our Land Our Life'. Still others were inscribed 'Mourn 88'. Participants were also in customary dress with body paint. Older Indigenous people wore head bands inscribed with the words 'Our Land', and tribal elders from the Northern Territory, in loin cloths, carried spears and clapping sticks, their bodies marked with feathers, white clay and red ochres. Without question, at this most significant event for Aboriginal peoples, their dress was a highly visible and cohesive aspect.Similar is the Tibetan Freedom Movement, a nonviolent grassroots movement in Tibet and among Tibet diaspora that emerged in 2008 to protest colonisation of Tibet. It is also known as the ‘White Wednesday Movement’. Every Wednesday, Tibetans wear traditional clothes. They pledge: “I am Tibetan, from today I will wear only Tibetan traditional dress, chuba, every Wednesday”. A chuba is a colourful warm ankle-length robe that is bound around the waist by a long sash. For the Tibetan Freedom Movement clothing “symbolically functions as a nonverbal mechanism of communication” to “materialise consciousness of the movement” and functions to shape its political aims (Yangzom 622). Yet, in both cases – Aboriginal and Tibet protests – the dress may “not speak to single cultural audience”. This is because the clothing is “decoded by those of different political persuasions, and [is] certainly further reinterpreted or reframed by the media” (Maynard 103). Nevertheless, there is “cultural work in creating a coherent narrative” (Yangzom 623). The narratives and discourse embedded in the wearing of a red, blue and white cockade, dark reform dress pants, cotton coloured Khadi fabric or blue denim overalls is likely a key feature of significant periods of political upheaval and dissent with the clothing “indispensable” even if the meaning of the clothing is “implied rather than something to be explicated” (Yangzom 623). On 21 January 2017, 250,000 women marched in Washington and more than two million protesters around the world wearing pink knitted pussy hats in response to the remarks made by President Donald Trump who bragged of grabbing women ‘by the pussy’. The knitted pink hats became the “embodiment of solidarity” (Wrenn 1). For Wrenn (2), protests such as this one in 2017 complete with “protest visuals” which build solidarity while “masking or excluding difference in the process” indicates “a tactical sophistication in the social movement space with its strategic negotiation of politics of difference. In formulating a flexible solidarity, the movement has been able to accommodate a variety of races, classes, genders, sexualities, abilities, and cultural backgrounds” (Wrenn 4). In doing so they presented a “collective bodily presence made publicly visible” to protest racist, sexist, homophobic, Islamophobic, and xenophobic white masculine power (Gokariksel & Smith 631). The 2017 Washington Pussy Hat March was more than an “embodiment tactic” it was an “image event” with its “swarms of women donning adroit posters and pink pussy hats filling the public sphere and impacting visual culture”. It both constructs social issues and forms public opinion hence it is an “argumentative practice” (Wrenn 6). Drawing on wider cultural contexts, as other acts of dissent note here do, in this protest with its social media coverage, the “master frame” of the sea of pink hats and bodies posited to audiences the enormity of the anger felt in the community over attacks on the female body – real or verbal. This reflects Goffman’s theory of framing to describe the ways in which “protestors actively seek to shape meanings such that they spark the public’s support and encourage political openings” (Wrenn 6). The hats served as “visual tropes” (Goodnow 166) to raise social consciousness and demonstrate opposition. Protest “signage” – as the pussy hats can be considered – are a visual representation and validation of shared “invisible thoughts and emotions” (Buck-Coleman 66) affirming Georg Simmel’s ideas about conflict; “it helps individuals define their differences, establish to which group(s) they belong, and determine the degrees to which groups are different from each other” (Buck-Coleman 66). The pink pussy hat helped define and determine membership and solidarity. Further embedding this was the hand-made nature of the hat. The pattern for the hat was available free online at https://www.pussyhatproject.com/knit/. The idea began as one of practicality, as it did for the reform dress movement. This is from the Pussy Hat Project website:Krista was planning to attend the Women’s March in Washington DC that January of 2017 and needed a cap to keep her head warm in the chill winter air. Jayna, due to her injury, would not be able to attend any of the marches, but wanted to find a way to have her voice heard in absentia and somehow physically “be” there. Together, a marcher and a non-marcher, they conceived the idea of creating a sea of pink hats at Women’s Marches everywhere that would make both a bold and powerful visual statement of solidarity, and also allow people who could not participate themselves – whether for medical, financial, or scheduling reasons — a visible way to demonstrate their support for women’s rights. (Pussy Hat Project)In the tradition of “craftivism” – the use of traditional handcrafts such as knitting, assisted by technology (in this case a website with the pattern and how to knit instructions), as a means of community building, skill-sharing and action directed towards “political and social causes” (Buszek & Robertson 197) –, the hand-knitted pink pussy hats avoided the need to purchase clothing to show solidarity resisting the corporatisation of protest clothing as cautioned by Naomi Klein (428). More so by wearing something that could be re-used sustained solidarity. The pink pussy hats provided a counter to the “incoherent montage of mass-produced clothing” often seen at other protests (Maynard 107). Everyday clothing however does have a place in political dissent. In late 2018, French working class and middle-class protestors donned yellow jackets to protest against the government of French President Emmanuel Macron. It began with a Facebook appeal launched by two fed-up truck drivers calling for a “national blockade” of France’s road network in protest against rising fuel prices was followed two weeks later with a post urging motorist to display their hi-vis yellow vests behind their windscreens in solidarity. Four million viewed the post (Henley). Weekly protests continued into 2019. The yellow his-vis vests are compulsorily carried in all motor cars in France. They are “cheap, readily available, easily identifiable and above all representing an obligation imposed by the state”. The yellow high-vis vest has “proved an inspired choice of symbol and has plainly played a big part in the movement’s rapid spread” (Henley). More so, the wearers of the yellow vests in France, with the movement spreading globally, are winning in “the war of cultural representation. Working-class and lower middle-class people are visible again” (Henley). Subcultural clothing has always played a role as heroic resistance (Evans), but the coloured dissent dressing associated with the red, blue and white ribboned cockades, the dark bloomers of early American feminists, the cotton coloured natural fabrics of Ghandi’s embodiment of resistance and independence, the blue denim sharecropper overalls worn by African American women in their struggles for civil rights, the black, red and orange of Aboriginal protestors in Australia and the White Wednesday performances of resistance undertaken by Tibetans against Chinese colonisation, the Washington Pink Pussy Hat marches for gender respect and equality and the donning of every yellow hi-vis vests by French protestors all posit the important role of fabric and colour in protest meaning making and solidarity building. It is in our rage we consciously wear the colours and fabrics of dissent dress. ReferencesBarnard, Malcolm. Fashion as Communication. New York: Routledge, 1996. 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Au début du XVIe siècle la ville de Montpellier était encore médiévale. Les murailles, "commune clôture", étaient le symbole de son pouvoir, de sa justice; mais elles étaient aussi l'objet de lourdes charges financières.Dans cette ville de Montpellier différents groupes se côtoyaient. Les uns, la noblesse ancienne et rurale, avaient perdu de l'influence au sein du consulat. Les autres, les petits nobles de robe, issus de la bourgeoisie marchande, progressaient. Ils connurent un fort essor avec la création de la cour des Aides, en 1467, et avec la création de la chambre des Comptes, en 1523. Ils accaparèrent les charges de premier consul, rachetèrent les droits de justice au clergé, aux seigneurs locaux, et finalement, dirigèrent la ville
At the begining of the 16th century, the town was still medieval, the walls, "common fences", were the symbol of its power, of its justice, but they were also the object of heavy financial charges.In the town of Montpellier, different groups were mixing. Some of them, old rural nobility, had lost influence in the consulship. The others, small nobility from the petty merchant vourgeoisie, were increasing. The knew a strong rise with the creation of the court of Aides in 1467 and with the creation of the house of Accounts in 1523. They withheld the charges of first consul, bought the right of justice from the clergy and the local lords, and finally ruled the town

La période clé de notre étude semble être la décennie des années 1660. La monarchie française cherche à connaître et à maîtriser sa noblesse. Si le roi accorde à la noblesse de robe une noblesse graduelle dès 1644, donnant d’une main la noblesse au bout de vingt ans d’exercice d’une charge (ou mort revêtu), dans le même temps, de l’autre main, il fait casser les Lettres de vétérances et les Lettres d’anoblissement octroyées lors des années 1614 à 1664. Dès 1666, afin de dresser un catalogue général de la noblesse, Louis XIV lance les fameuses Enquêtes de la noblesse qui auront pour but de passer des preuves orales aux preuves écrites, de figer ainsi les origines de ses serviteurs. Comment les familles de noblesse de robe parisiennes vivent-elles ces changements ? Les familles présentées par Blanchard ont su opérer depuis Charles VI une lente progression dans les sphères du pouvoir. Elles arrivent aux premières places au début du XVIIe siècle en détenant les charges les plus importantes des cours souveraines (Grand Conseil, Chambre des Comptes, Cour des aides, Cour des monnaies, Parlement de Paris et parlements de province). La mise en place de la cour, les nouvelles réglementations remettent en cause les stratégies familiales. Cependant, ces familles, regroupées sous le terme générique de « noblesse de robe » ne sont pas seulement des familles urbaines comme le prouve la liste des seigneuries détenues. Les titres passent en grande partie par la possession de seigneuries, par un capital terrien immobilisé. Cette agrégation ultime au mode de fonctionnement de la « noblesse d’épée », ce mimétisme âprement recherché permet également de diversifier le patrimoine et de ne plus le faire dépendre du négoce ou de la possession d’un office vénal. Cette transformation ne va pas sans peine et s’accompagne de tensions, d’opposition au sein des lignages successifs, voire d’échecs. Un second aspect indissociable se présente : l’héraldique. Prolongement du nom, l’héraldique permet dans une France encore largement illettrée d’imposer sa marque et son prestige. La France est exangue et Louis XIV doit trouver de nouvelles ressources militaires et financières afin de lutter contre les coalitions européennes. Après avoir lancé les Enquêtes de noblesse, Louis XIV, par le biais de d’Hozier, juge d’armes de France et généalogiste du roi, organise le grand recensement de tous les blasons afin de les inscrire dans le droit français et dans la pratique fiscale, tout en soumettant l’autorisation de port à une nouvelle taxe. D’Hozier, afin de créer l’Armorial de France, lance ses commissaires généraux et recueille ainsi de nombreux renseignements permettant de soumettre les impétrants à de nouvelles recherches sur le port illégal des attributs réservés à la noblesse. Dès cet instant, toute noblesse ne dépend que de la volonté royale et doit se plier au service et de la cour et du royaume (service par quart annuel). L’héraldique devient alors un véritable marqueur social. Suivant l’exemple des titres, et voulant fuir toute disgrâce, les partitions des écus fleurissent comme pour mieux rappeler les alliances, ascendances et parentés de chacun. Comment se constituent ses nouvelles armoiries ? Comment se transmettent-elles ou se choisissent-elles au sein des fratries de la noblesse de robe parisienne ? Notre étude permet d’observer comment la robe, composante de la notabilité urbaine, devient la noblesse de robe au XVIIe siècle et s’identifie à la noblesse d’épée ? Quelle est la place des seigneuries et de l’héraldique dans ce processus ? Nous pouvons nous demander quel peut être l’intérêt pour une famille de la noblesse de robe parisienne de posséder une seigneurie, qui peut être est située loin du domicile principal ?
The key period of our study seems to be the decade of the 1660s. The French monarchy seeks to know and master its nobility. If the king grants to the nobility of dress a gradual nobility from 1644, giving with one hand the nobility after twenty years of exercise of a burden (or death coated), at the same time, with the other hand , he broke the Letters of Veterans and Letters of ennoblement granted in the years 1614 to 1664. In 1666, in order to draw up a general catalog of the nobility, Louis XIV launched the famous Investigations of the nobility which will aim to pass from oral evidence to written evidence, to freeze the origins of his servants. How do families of Parisian nobility live these changes? The families presented by Blanchard have operated since Charles VI a slow progress in the spheres of power. They arrive in the first places at the beginning of the seventeenth century by holding the most important offices of the sovereign courts (Grand Council, Chamber of Accounts, Court of Aids, Court of the coins, Parliament of Paris and provincial parliaments). The establishment of the court, the new regulations call into question family strategies. However, these families, grouped under the generic term "nobility of dress" are not only urban families as evidenced by the list of seigneuries held. The titles thus pass by the possession of seigniories, by an immobilized ground capital. This ultimate aggregation in the mode of operation of the "nobility of the sword", this mimicry bitterly sought also allows to diversify the heritage and no longer make it depend on trading or possession of a venal office. This transformation is not without pain and is accompanied by tensions, opposition within successive lineages, even failures. A second inseparable aspect presents itself: heraldry. An extension of the name, heraldry allows in a still largely illiterate France to impose its mark and its prestige. France is exiled and Louis XIV must find new military and financial resources to fight against European coalitions. After launching the investigations of nobility, Louis XIV, through d'Hozier, judge of arms of France and genealogist of the king, organizes the large census of all coats of arms to include them in French law and in practice while subjecting the port authorization to a new tax. D'Hozier, in order to create the Armorial de France, launches his commissioners general and thus receives a lot of information allowing to submit the petitioners to new researches on the illegal port of the attributes reserved to the nobility. From that moment, all nobility depend only on the royal will and must bow to the service and the court and the kingdom (service per quarter yearly). Heraldry becomes a social marker. Following the example of the titles, and wanting to escape all disgrace, the partitions of the ecus bloom as to better recall the alliances, ancestries and relatives of each. How are his new coats of arms? How are they transmitted or are they chosen within the fraternities of the Parisian nobility of dress? Our study shows how the dress, a component of urban notability, becomes the nobility of dress in the seventeenth century and identifies with the nobility of the sword? What is the place of lordships and heraldry in this process? We may wonder what may be the interest for a family of the nobility of Parisian dress to own a lordship, which may be located far from the main home?

Ce travail envisage de reconstruire l’histoire d’une famille reconnue comme l’une des plus anciennes et honorables familles de la noblesse de robe parisienne. Ses représentants puisent leur célébrité dans une compétence si éminente dans le monde de la magistrature et dans une fidélité sincère au Roi et à la monarchie. Cette étude prend place dans l’essor qu’ont connu les biographies collectives relatives aux élites françaises depuis une vingtaine d’années. La conjugaison de plusieurs facteurs a donné lieu à une ascension spectaculaire de cette lignée robine durant le XVIIème siècle. D’autres facteurs ont amené à sa faillite au début du siècle suivant. Cette archéologie familiale construite en premier lieu à travers les actes notariés du minutier central des notaires parisiens et les fonds anciens des archives départementales, a également l’intérêt d’examiner la structure et la gestion de la fortune de cette famille ainsi que les représentations de la vie et de l’Au-delà chez certains de ses membres
This work seeks to rebuild the history of a family known as one of the most old and honourable families of the Parisian Nobility of the robe. Its representatives draw their celebrity from an outstanding proficiency in the Judiciary world and sincere faithfulness to the King and Monarchy. This study goes alongside with the increasing rise of French elite collective biographies over the last twenty years. A combination of several factors gave rise to an impressive ascension of this Robe lineage at the XVIIth century. Other factors caused its bankruptcy by the beginning of the following century. This Family archaeology, rebuilt mainly through the deeds of the “Minutier central des notaires parisiens” and the historical collections of departmental archives, examines the structure and management of this family’s wealth as well as the representations of life and afterlife within some of its members

Au XVIIe siècle, Dijon, capitale de la province, est le lieu où résident les membres des organes politiques, administratifs et financiers. La ville connaît alors un remarquable essor de la construction privée. Les bâtisseurs sont principalement les officiers des cours souveraines, parlementaires ou conseillers à la chambre des comptes, qui satisfont leur besoin de représentation sociale en commandant des demeures dignes de leur rang : l’hôtel est bien l’illustration de ceux qui détiennent le pouvoir, le lieu à la fois d’une démonstration sociale, architecturale et artistique.Cette étude, première synthèse sur les hôtels particuliers dijonnais de 1610 à 1715, est abordée selon trois axes de réflexion : les commanditaires, les architectes et leurs réalisations. L’analyse architecturale des hôtels, qui laisse une large part à la distribution, permet une étude comparative avec Paris et les autres grandes villes parlementaires du royaume
In the seventeenth century, Dijon, capital of the province, was the place where proposed members of the political, administrative and financial bodies chose to live. The city therefore experienced a remarkable boom in the construction of private residences. The builders were mainly officers of the sovereign courts, members of parliament or advisors to the Board of Auditors who wanted to satisfy their need for social representation by ordering houses worthy of their rank : the private mansion was the illustration of people of power, place both a demonstration of social standing, architectural and artistic.This study, the first synthesis of the private mansions of Dijon from 1610 to 1715, is approached according to three lines of thought: the commissioners, the architects and their constructions. The architectural analysis of mansions which leaves a large part to the distribution, allows the comparison with Paris and other major cities of the parliamentary kingdom

Under the Constantinian dynasty, the Roman senatorial aristocracy was subject to two major social and political transformations. Firstly, emperors gradually modified the rules for senatorial office-holding, moving away from a hereditary model towards a more flexible system in which rank could be gained through merit (service to the emperor). The number of senatorial posts in the administration was increased, which resulted in the expansion of the senatorial order from outside the hereditary aristocracy. Secondly, Constantine founded Constantinople, where a second senate emerged, prompting the formation of a new eastern senatorial order. Roman senatorial nobles were among the most powerful individuals of the empire. The expansion of their order, the transformation of senatorial office-holding and the foundation of Constantinople did not lead to the reduction of their influence in government. Constantine actively encouraged the involvement of Roman grandees in government as a means of supporting imperial rule, especially in the East. Constantine's son, Constantius II, emperor of the East, continued these policies until 350, when the military and dynastic context forcefully disrupted his relationship with the Roman senate. In this situation, Constantius moved to found a second senate in Constantinople to legitimise his position in the East. Modelled on Rome, the new senate quickly assembled the top echelons of the traditional eastern elite. However, the emergence of this order did not impinge on the authority of the Roman senate, restored to its traditional authority by Constantine. Constantius made it clear that the support of the Roman nobility remained a vital source of political stability and (above all) a necessary means of risk-reduction in the continuing context of the fragility of imperial power.

L'objet de cette étude est M. Fulvius Nobilior. En tant que leader politique et militaire, il a considérablement influencé le sort de la res publica Romana pendant les premières décennies du 2ème siècle avant J-C. , mais sans prendre position au premier plan parmi d'autres contemporains plus célèbres. La postérité se souvient particulièrement bien de Nobilior comme patron du poète Ennius, ainsi que pour de nombreuses autres activités culturelles qu’il a initiées et promues. Prenant Nobilior à titre d'exemple, cette étude se penche sur la façon dont les domaines de la politique et les arts se sont conditionnés et influencés les uns des autres à l’époque medio-républicaine. La première partie de l'étude examine en détail le personnage historique de M. Fulvius Nobilior et son res gestae comme magistrat et membre de la classe dirigeante Romaine. La deuxième partie est consacrée à l'activité culturelle que Nobilior a affichée et qui est analysée, avec une attention particulière quant à ses actions politiques
The focus of this study is on M. Fulvius Nobilior. As a politician and military leader, he substantially influenced the fate of the res publica Romana during the first decades of the 2nd century BC. However, he did so without reaching such a prominent position as other, more famous, contemporaries of his. Posterity remembers Nobilior particularly well as a patron for the poet Ennius, as well as for numerous other cultural activities which he initiated and promoted. Taking Nobilior as an example, this study looks into how the realms of politics and the arts conditioned and influenced each other at the time of the Middle Republic. The first part of the study examines in detail the historic persona of M. Fulvius Nobilior and his res gestae as magistrate and member of the Roman aristocracy. The second part is devoted to the extensive cultural activity which Nobilior displayed and which is analyzed with particular regard to his political actions

La tenture de la 'Dame à la licorne' est le plus souvent interprétée comme une allégorie des sens physiques, mais son iconographie se distingue par le registre héraldique. Chaque composition s’organise tel un emblème héraldique de sorte que les personnages principaux remplacent l’écu tant du point de vue visuel que fonctionnel. Si cette tenture est fréquemment citée comme un monument à la réussite socioprofessionnel du commanditaire, on n’a jamais cherché à comprendre comment le registre scénique contribue à la représentation du commanditaire. Autre lacune dans le corpus de littérature, l’importance de la figure féminine dans cette image est restée jusqu’alors ignorée. La présente étude propose donc d’étudier la 'Dame à la licorne' et sa fonction représentative en analysant les traditions culturelles, littéraires et iconographiques, ainsi que les réalités sociohistoriques, qui sous-tendent l’image d’excellence sociale que le commanditaire souhaite rattacher à sa personne et à sa famille
The 'Lady and the Unicorn' tapestries are most often interpreted as an allegory of the physical senses, but their iconography is remarkable for its integration of armorial elements. Each composition is organized like a heraldic emblem, such that the main figures replace the coat-of-arms in its position and its function. Though this work is frequently identified as a monument to the patron’s socio-professional success, no effort has been made to understand how the scenes contribute to his personal representation. The lack of interest for the decidedly female character of this iconographic programme is another weakness in previous studies of these tapestries. This doctoral dissertation proposes to examine the 'Lady and the Unicorn' and its representative function by analysing the cultural, literary and iconographic traditions, as well as the socio-historic realities, that shape the image of social excellence the patron constructs in order to represent himself and his family

The aim of this dissertation is to explore the contribution made by the nobility, both Gallo-Roman and Frankish, to the creation of a new society after the collapse of imperial authority in the west, Gallo-Frankish society. The first chapter of this dissertation is a review of the sources, both ancient and modern, used in the research undertaken for this dissertation. It is important to realise that, while not as numerous as those of other periods, sufficient ancient material survives to make a study such as this valid. Modern issues and debates will be highlighted, including an indication of what led me to this particular thesis. The second chapter outlines the history of Gaul and the barbarians to the middle of the fifth century. It then looks at the institutions that were the backbone of Gallo-Roman society. The third chapter explores the lives of a number of individuals who lived in Gaul during the late third and fourth centuries. They exemplify the challenges that faced the nobility and the ways they found of facing them. Chapter four introduces the Franks as the successors to imperial rule in Gaul. A narrative history is followed by a study of the institutions that they made use of in establishing their power. Chapter five narrows the focus still further and looks at the role that the monarchy and the nobility had to play in the creation of Gallo-Frankish society. It will look at specific examples in order to demonstrate the vital role that the fusion taking place between Gallo-Romans and Franks played in this process. The final chapter, chapter six reaches the conclusion that Gallo-Frankish society was based on an amalgamation of Gallo-Romans and Franks, an amalgamation that was remarkably peaceful, given the events of the period.

AbstractIn the seventeenth-century missionary context of South India, the Jesuit Roberto Nobili (1577–1656) engaged in a multi-directional process of translation, translating his Catholic mission, doctrine, and literature for a Tamil audience and adapting it to local Tamil beliefs, practices, and literature for the Roman Catholic context. Adopting theories from translation studies (Frege, Nida, Lefevere and Venuti), this paper suggests a model of “cultural translation” not only as a metaphor but as an analytical tool. Straddling the binary notion of orthodoxy-unorthodoxy, this mechanism pursues two goals: (1) it uncovers the role of translations in the construction of religions and social identities; (2) it applies the theoretical framework of “cultural translation” to illuminate the historical context of Jesuit missions in India and beyond. In doing so, it contributes to the analysis of transculturality and challenges the traditional master narrative of a homogeneous Christianity.

The person of Spinozistic fortitudo takes intelligent care of himself, which is to possess the virtue of tenacity, and he takes intelligent care of others, which is to possess the virtue of nobility. The person of fortitudo is a friend to himself and he is a friend to others. This chapter examines Spinoza’s theory of nobility and the central role of friendship in his conception of the empowered life. The author argues that nobility is a distinct type of love. Nobility is empowered love. Essential to empowered love is the desire to help and befriend others, and he shows that helping others is about empowering others to live joyously and lovingly. The most important way to help others to live in this way is through education. Moreover, education, in Spinoza’s view, is a social project, and the author highlights three ways that it is social. Finally, the chapter shows how Spinozistic friendship and the virtue of courtesy (modestia) prepare us for a life of learning.

This chapter explores the five-year period between 1802 and 1807 when key members of the Avignon Society relocated to St. Petersburg in Russia. It carries out an in-depth examination of the pivotal role played by Natal’ia Pleshcheeva, the widow of Sergei Pleshcheev, the first Russian initiate of the Avignon Society, in harbouring leaders of the society in her home between 1802 and 1805. The chapter also examines the time Grabianka spent in Galicia and Podolia between 1803 and 1805, prior to his arrival in the Russian capital, when he succeeded in recruiting a number of rich, pro-Russian members of the Polish nobility. The bulk of the chapter then focuses on Grabianka’s residence in St. Petersburg between August 1805 and his arrest in February 1807, when he oversaw the initiation of over sixty new members, from among the highest echelons of the Russian nobility, into what was now known as the New Israel Society.

This study focused on understanding the interactions between alloying elements in a magnesium (Mg) matrix and the effect of the alloying elements on corrosion behavior of Mg-alloys. The development of atomic force microscope (AFM) techniques has enabled the evaluation of physical and chemical properties of surfaces at the sub-micron level. Scanning Kelvin probe force microscopy (SKPFM) is particularly useful for studying localized corrosion phenomena of alloys. SKPFM generates a map of the potential distribution across a sample with a resolution of probe tip radius, nowadays ranging from 5 to 30 nm. Furthermore, the open circuit potential of various pure metals in solution is linearly related to the Volta potential value measured in air immediately after exposure to corrosive media. SKPFM is a useful tool to practically assess the nobility of a surface. This technique has been applied to the heterogeneous microstructure of Mg-Zn-Ca-RE (RE = Zr, Nd, Ga) alloys and provided clear evidence regarding the shape, position, compositional inhomogeneities and local practical nobility of intermetallic particles. Correlation between the measured potential distribution and the reactivity of these particles has been shown. Atomic force lithography (AFL, scratching with the hard tip) is a controlled method for local disruption of the protective oxide film that naturally formed on an Mg-surface in air. Combining SKPFM and AFL, the stability of the passive film and the tendency for stabilization of localized corrosion can be monitored. In addition, the lateral imaging capabilities of the AFM provide an approach to study the role of different microstructural features such as grain boundaries and impurities in the process of inducing localized corrosion.