Guinevere’s Grave and Pictish Stones

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Image: Meigle Kirk

The wee hamlet of Meigle lies just thirty minutes north east of Perth, Scotland. It doesn’t sit on a tourist route, but for those interested in Arthurian legends or Pictish stones, this village is a must see. In the graveyard of the local kirk stands a mound with a plaque. It reads Vanora’s Mound. This is where legends begin.

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The plaque reads:  Vanora’s Mound

This mound is by tradition the burial place of Vanora or Guinevere, the legendary queen of King Arthur. The stone claimed to be her monument is now situated within Meigle Sculptured Stone Museum at the south west corner of the churchyard.

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Image: Vanora’s Mound

There are several variations of this local legend. One says King Arthur was leaving for Rome on Crusade and left his nephew, Mordred, as regent of the kingdom and Guinevere in his care. Mordred soon took Guinevere as his wife, either by force or of her own free will and then made himself king of the Pictish kingdom. Arthur learned of this treason and returned with his army. They battled until Arthur killed Mordred, but was himself mortally wounded. He died before Guinevere was able to seek his absolve. She was arrested and held at the fort at Barry Hill nearby until tried and found guilty of treason and adultery. She was torn to pieces by a pack of wild dogs as her punishment and buried in the kirkyard. A curse was placed on her burial mound, and it is said that to this day if a young woman walks upon the mound she will be barren.

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Image credit: Pictish Stones at Meigle Museum from Undiscovered Scotland

In a small former school building, 26 Pictish stones are housed. One is an 8 foot carved stone. A series of figures on horseback are carved on the top back side with mythical animals carved along the lower section. In the middle is a carving of a person in a long robe with four animals tearing he or she apart. The official interpretation says this is a rendition of Daniel in the Lion’s Den. Even though, Daniel was not torn apart in the Biblical account. The local story says this is the depiction of Guinevere’s death. This stone once stood at the mound, and her name is found on the stone.

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Image: Me at the mound

I found this amazing landmark while researching for Arthurian sites in Scotland. This is only an hours drive from where we office while in Europe. What makes this personally fascinating and quite enchanting pertains to my second “yet to be published” novel. It begins with a backstory, a piece of Arthurian legend having to do with this very story. However, I had not heard this particular version. I took one of the more romantic tellings and added my own personal touch. Being a fiction writer and lover of legendary tales, this was not a difficult undertaking.

This is one of the many reasons I love writing. I love finding myself in the middle of a story, even when I’m not looking for one!

 

 

 

Finding Yourself Inside The Story

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Luc Grun and me in his studio in Riquewihr, France.

Guess who’s coming to dinner? Our new friends and owners of the apartment we’d rented for the week invited us downstairs one evening to their restaurant to meet some of their best friends. We walked down from our third floor apartment and entered the restaurant. There at the table by the door sat Jean-Jacques, Gabrielle, Isabeth, and Luc. They’d started the party without us. Jim and I sat down, and we were all introduced. I sat next to Luc and Jim sat next to Isabeth. Let the magic begin!

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Inside Le Capucin Restaurant.

Luc is a mathematician, turned linguist, turned painter. He has a deep voice and an infectious laugh! We six spent the evening together, discussing all manor of topics. Our conversation was a constant mixture of French, German, and English. Most of the time all at once. It was like being in a movie, an indie film…French comedy. I love finding myself inside a story. Full of the most amazing characters. People I could never write. Bigger than life. Luc is just such a person. Jim and I drove to Riquewihr a few days later and visited him in his studio. It is a must see if you ever go to this delightful village. He’s on the main walking street mid-way up the hillside. #37. Tell him we sent you.

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Gabrielle and me in Le Capucin Restaurant.

I love finding kindred spirits in unexpected places, though I should have known I was destined to find just such a person in Kaysersberg. In fact, I’m so excited about our new friendship, one that will last a life-time, I’ve decided to take French this summer. I’ll let you know how it goes. I’m laughing as I type this just thinking about summer posts…could be funny.

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One of Gabrielle’s pottery lamps.

Okay, I said she and I were kindred spirits. Look at what she can do with clay! She makes the most wonderful, whimsical lamps. The restaurant is full of them. I’m hoping to place my order when we return in the fall. We will definitely be visiting them at their farmhouse in the mountains near the village. Her studio is there.

This is where I need to tell you that the following day after meeting Luc, we had lunch at the restaurant with two more of their dear friends. A retired couple who were professors of Biology and English. They were delightful! Jean-Jacques prepared a traditional Alsatian dish for us for lunch (which was delicious) and we spent hours eating and talking about life and legends. We talked about how there were many people in the area with the family name Ancel. Now the reason this is important has to do with Arthurian Legends, Sir Lancelot in particular. If you break down his name in French, which he was according to legend, it is L’ancel’ot…Little Ancel. My mind was spinning with ideas for my novel. Sadly, our time had to end, as I had another appointment with a local historian on the other side of the village. We made a date to visit our new professor friends at their farm, which is very near Jean-Jacques and Gabrielle’s home, when we return in the fall. I can hardly wait!

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Me in the doorway of  The Golden Lion Restaurant in Kaysersberg.

Notice the name above the door at the restaurant in the above photo. J. Ancel. Jim and I had walked by this restaurant, next door to our apartment all week long. We decided to try it out our last night in town. We walked in and immediately loved the place. The tables were beautifully set, the light fixtures were iron, there were huge beams across the ceiling, and the food…well, DELICIOUS. As exciting as all this was, I had no idea that fate once again had led me to this very place. The owners of the restaurant were none other than, you guessed it, the Ancel’s. Sir Lancelot’s family. Here I was, inside my own story, and loving it. I giggled like I was a little girl when we first noticed the name on the menu. What a perfect way to end a perfect vacation.

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My room with a view.

As I sit upstairs on my final night in our apartment the church bells are ringing. I open the window and lean out, looking toward the steeple rising above the house tops. It’s dark out, except for the lamplight on the street just below our window. No one is around. The bells are suddenly quiet, and I listen for ancient voices whispering on the street below. I look up at the castle tower and see a loan figure standing in the open window. She waves to me, inviting me to come closer. It’s her story I find myself a part of. Her name is Amélie.