ab. 1480 Master of the View of Saint Gudule - Young Man Holding a Book

(Metropolitan Museum of Art)

Hieronymus Bosch St. John the Baptist in the Wilderness. 1489. Oil on oak panel: 48 × 40 cm (19 × 16 in).

Cecilia Gallerani, mistress of Ludovico Sforza by Leonardo da Vinci, 1480-90.

Pallas and the Centaur, Sandro Botticelli, 1480-85

Botticelli, Spring, (detail) c. 1482

Scanned from Taschen's Botticelli.

Richard III & the Princes in the Tower | Facial Re-Creations & History Documentary | Royalty Now

One Dress a Day Challenge

Multicolored August

Richard III / Pamela Brown as Jane Shore

Jane Shore, the king's mistress, doesn't have many lines, but she's on the edges of so many scenes, hovering in the background and looking enigmatic. This costume and Pamela Brown's performance make her memorable. I'm sure they were indulging in a bit of symbolism with the gown, which is a respectable blue-grey on the outside and lined with flashes of bright scarlet! If that doesn't drive the point home enough, they put the queen in white, although they inexplicably also put her in the style of the previous century.

This was one of my dad's favorite movies. He used to like to say, "How now, my hearty stout resolvèd mates?" when he was feeling jocular.

free ramble space for Knight and the Nightingale! I want to hear all about it <3

EEE! I love this one. Knight is a historical romance thriller set in 1480s Scotland. Julia, a medievalist and classical musician, never thought she'd somehow find herself in the book she'd been reading in the bath...nor did she ever think she'd use her knowledge of history to assist a prince lead a rebellion. It's based on James IV's rise to power as he usurped the throne from his father; the research for this has been a LOT of fun.

She didn’t know how long she was unconscious: minutes, hours, days; all that registered through the darkness was pain shooting down her legs. Julia shifted uncomfortably; rough cloth tickled her skin, hard mattress pressing into her spine. She adjusted her position in vain; the bed she was lying in was horribly hard, no give at all— Last thing she remembered, she’d been reading in the bath. How, then, did she arrive in bed? Her eyes flew open in alarm.  Undyed linen closed in around her face, arms and head, blotting out the light.  She batted away the fabric in vain, concern growing when it refused to move. She discovered her entire body was enveloped in linen, the sheet tucked tightly around her. Julia tugged it down  from the crown of her head; much to her dismay, she never found the hem. In her trembling fingers, she held the gathered ends of fabric stitched together. She gasped.  This wasn’t a blanket thrown over her head: it was a shroud. Panic scrabbled inside her chest, flaring into caustic acid. Where was she? How did she get here? Julia pulled at the stitches with all her might, kicking against the stitching at her feet to snap the strings. Her breath left her when they refused to give way.  “Help,” she screamed, “help me! Please!” Her cries met with cold silence, leaden in her chest. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she clawed and kicked. “Please,” she begged, “please, God, help—” She eventually ripped the cloth, throwing the last of the linen away. She sat up in alarm.   She was in a tidy, whitewashed room lined with shelves of white linen cloth and pouches of herbs. Rows of tables took up much of the space, several bearing white ‘body bags’ like the one she’d been stitched into. A great stone fireplace resided at the far end of the room, no doubt to heat the water used to wash corpses. Woody, astringent balsam, myrrh and aloe wafted up from the embalming table she sat on, the boards permeated with herbs over the years. Julia retched, the stone floor beneath her blurring from tears as she hung over the side.  She was in a morgue…a medieval morgue, like the ones she had studied as a medieval history major. A terrifying thought came to her, one that refused to leave her alone. “Absolutely not,” she told herself. “T-This is a nightmare, that’s all; just a vivid nightmare.” But no nightmare felt quite so real as this; Julia wobbled to her feet, wincing at each step as she made a beeline for the wash basin. A brass ewer hung above the bowl, suspended by a chain. Her stomach clenched. She had seen that exact ‘sink’ configuration in medieval paintings she’d studied at university. To encounter it again outside of school was… Where was she? Why couldn’t she remember what had happened to her?

Portrait of a Woman with a Pearl Necklace

Lorenzo Costa, 1485-95

Miniature from "Livre des faits de monseigneur saint Louis" by the Master of the Cardinal de Bourbon, 1480s France

leonardo da vinci. adoration of the magi, 1481.

ab. 1480-1500 Northeastern France or the Burgundian Netherlands - Portrait of a Man

(Cleveland Museum of Art)

The woman portrayed as very small, Elizabeth Etchingham, died first, in 1452, nearly 30 years before her friend Agnes Oxenbridge, who died in 1480.

"Normal Women: 900 Years of Making History" - Philippa Gregory

Caterina Sforza Lady of Imola and Forli,illegitimate daughter of Galeazzo Sforza, 1481-83.

Birth of Venus, Sandro Botticelli, 1485

Botticelli, Spring, (detail) 1482

Scanned from Taschen's Botticelli.