On Thursday, I am doing my first London Walk Virtual Tour of the winter season.
The walk tells the story of London’s myths and legends and the Celtic origins of Halloween.
The walk will tell the story of London’s Myths and Legends, beginning with the tale of London’s legendary origins in the Bronze Age by an exiled Trojan called Brutus. Stories of Bladud, Belinus, Bran and Arthur will be interspersed with how they fit in with archaeological discoveries.
As we around the City, we also look at the origins of Halloween celebrations and how they may have been celebrated in early London
The virtual route starts at Tower Hill, then down to the River Thames at Billingsgate, to London Bridge and Southwark Cathedral, to the Roman Forum at the top of Cornhill, into the valley of the River Walbrook, passed the Temple of Mithras, along Cheapside to the Roman Amphitheatre, and finishing up in the shadow of St Pauls.
REVIEWS (from London Walks website) “Kevin, I just wanted to drop you a quick email to thank you ever so much for your archaeological tours of London! I am so thrilled to have stumbled upon your tours! I have wanted to be an archaeologist since 1978 at the ripe old age of 8 years,… I was told for years that I could not be an archaeologist [for any number of reasons, which I now realise are completely ridiculous!], so I ended up on a different course of study. And now at the age of 50, it is my one great regret in life. So, I am thoroughly enjoying living vicariously through you, the digs you’ve been on, and the history you bring to life for us! British archaeology would have been my specific area of study had I pursued it. ?? Thank you SO MUCH for these! I look forward to them more than you can imagine, and honestly, I’ll be sad if you get them down to 1.5 hours! They’re the best 2 hours of my week! 🙂 Best, Sue
A day when it is ‘certain to rain heavily’. Well, that wasn’t true last year. On this day you, supposing you want to find who your true lover is, must:
Carefully peel an apple in one piece. Turn round three times with the peel in your right hand Drop the peel over your left shoulder See what shape letter the peel forms on the ground, and this will be the first letter of your true love’s name. And if it breaks into pieces, you are doomed, probably, to never finding your true love. To make this work, you also have to recite:
St Simon and St Jude, on you I intrude By this paring I hold to discover Without any delay, to tell me this day The first letter of my own true love.
Jude is the Saint of:
Lost Causes Desperate causes Hopeless causes And if that is not enough also the Hopeless and the Despairing.
So maybe the apple peel isn’t going to work for you (although Jude is also the Patron Saint of the Impossible!)
Jude aka Thaddeus was martyred with an axe. Simon the Zealous was martyred by being sawn in half, and is, of course, therefore, the patron saint of woodcutters and lumberjacks. They are linked by the same Saint’s day because they went to Syria together to preach where they were met their fates, and they are also associated with woodworking.
WikipediaBy Bruce Andersen – Own work, CC BY-SA 2.5, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1855844
There are at least four Judes. One of them may have been Jesus’ brother. He or another Jude wrote the Epistle of St. Jude.
There are plenty of people who believe that eclipses can be predicted by Stonehenge. And it certainly can be used that way, but this doesn’t mean it was. A series of stones, and posts in concentric circles with sight lines to innumerable features on the horizon offers many ways of making calculations which combined with observations over a long period COULD predict, predictable celestial phenomena. Doesn’t mean they were. So it is very difficult to say what they were capable of, and only the most obvious alignments can be certainly confirmed.
This Washington Post article below suggests the Loughcrew Cairns near Dublin were built about the time of a total eclipse, and that one of the stones with complicated carvings on may show a lunar eclipse. If you look at the sketch of the stone above, you will see the biggest circle, near the middle, may represent the moon, and it obscures the circle behind it which may represent the sun. Read this for the details: https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/wonk/wp/2017/08/18/this-5000-year-old-stone-carving-may-be-the-worlds-first-drawing-of-an-eclipse/
What is striking is how can they say it was built around the time of a total eclipse and make that seem significant because there is no way archaeological dating is accurate enough to give any idea whether it was built for a particular day. Also, there are many more circles and objects on the large stone, and to pick two out to prove what you want it to prove, is not proof. We are left with the intriguing possibility, but it is no more than that.
I am finishing my post on September, and using the Kalendar of Shepherds. As you may have noticed, I often use the Kalendar of Shepherds to provide an insight into how the seasons were seen in the past. Mostly, I use it for the posts at the beginning of each month. I have created this page as a placeholder to put information on the Kalendar for anyone who is eager to explore it more or to make use of it. Each month I will link to it, so I do not have to repeat the basic information about the Kalendar. Much of this text was contained in the December post, and I have used this month as my example. Tomorrow, you will get the September version.
About the Kalendar of Shepherds.
The Kalendar was printed in 1493 in Paris and provided ‘Devices for the 12 Months.’ The version I’m using is a modern (1908) reconstruction of it. It uses wood cuts from the original 15th Century version and adds various texts from 16th and 17th Century sources. (Couplets by Tusser ‘Five Hundred Parts of Good Husbandrie 1599. Text descriptions of the month from Nicholas Breton’s ‘Fantasticks of 1626.) This provides an interesting view of what was going on in the countryside every month.
The Kalendar of Shepherds has an illustration for each month (December above) which shows typical activities for the time of year, and has inserts to identify the astrological signs of the month. So, in December they are baking and collecting firewood. The star signs are Sagittarius (November 22 – December 21) and Capricorn(December 22 – January 19).
The text below gives a vivid description of December weather and then elaborates on the last six years of a man’s life, with hair going white, body ‘crooked and feeble’. The conceit here is that there are twelve months of the year, and a man’s lot of ‘Six score years and ten’ is allocated six years to each month. So December is not just about the 12th months of the Year but also the last six years of a person’s allotted span. The piece allows the option of living beyond 72, ‘and if he lives any more, it is by his good guiding and dieting in his youth.’ Good advice, as we now know. But living to 100 is open to but few.
Kalendar of Shepherds
The longer description of December (shown below) is by Breton (1626) and gives a detailed look at the excesses of Christmas, who is on holiday, and who working particularly hard. But it concludes it is a costly month.
Screenshot concerning the new Logo of the Museum of London
I was quite surprised to see the image above appear in an email to my inbox. The London Museum (was the Museum of London) announced the Pigeon and Splat as the new logo to replace the old Dick Whittington one. I received the email on the 27th July 2024.
Is this a breath of fresh air? An unfussy humourous joke which 5 year old will love? Is a Pigeon uniquely London? Is the Splat too clever by half, or is it completely daft?
I’ll leave it to you to decide. However, a visit to the London Museum Website on 15/08/24 reveals the Pigeon logo displayed without the Splat!
Screenshot of London Museum’s new logo without the Splat!
Further down the page, is an article on the history of Pigeons and London, where there is a vestigial splat!
It seems to me there has been a climb down since I received the email on 27th July. Or are they phasing the Splat! in? Comments please.
For more on the new logo look at the Museums Associations’s Web site here. ‘The pigeon was chosen to symbolise the brand as “an impartial and humble observer of London life”, the museum said in a blog post on the redesign.’
Screenshot from the London Museum Web site with image of a Pigeon with a vestigial Splat!
My WordPress system decided to publish my notes upon the Parrot rather than reminding me to finish off the page. So, here is the updated post again.
The Parrot was republished for free on August 4th 2024 by the York St Johns University Critical Editions team, and they have enabled you to get your free copy by following the link at the bottom of the post.
Published in 1746 ‘The Parrot’ by Elizabeth Haywood was a satire on the male-dominated London Society of the time. It was published in 9 parts. The name comes from the viewpoint from a Parrot’s perch in a wealthy London house. The Parrot is an enslaved creature that has travelled the world, observer to its follies. The bird wonders why people should dismiss opinions simply on the basis of A Parrot’s green colour.
The introduction to the author by the team says:
‘Eliza Haywood (c. 1693-1756) was one of the first generation of writers to “live by her pen.” Throughout her career, Haywood adopted many roles: she was an actress, playwright, novelist and prolific essayist.However, she always used her platform to celebrate and advocate for women.‘
Philip Mould Galley,Bond Street.The home of painter Mary Beale
The painter Mary Beale was born on March 26th 1633 in Barrow.
Last year, I was asked to do two Jane Austen’s London walks. The walk explores Mayfair, where her brother, Henry lived and had his Bank, and where Austen placed the central drama of Sense and Sensibility. I decided to use the time between the walks to look for a shopping mall which dates back to Jane Austen’s time, but I got diverted as I saw a sign for a free exhibition on Mary Beale in Pall Mall.
Mary Beale is that rare beast; a professional female artist of the 17th Century (1633-1699). So, I double-checked the ‘free entry’ notice because this was a posh West End private art gallery and the name Philip Mould was familiar. I went in and realised that this was something special. I returned to the entrance to ask the very friendly staff whether I could take photographs. ‘Yes, of course, they said.’ much to my surprise.
Mary Beale Exhibition sign.
Downstairs, the art of Mary Beale was beautifully displayed, and the exhibition had a very interesting story to tell, which was well-told, using excellent labels and a film narrated by Philip Mould. He was, as I thought, the co-presenter of ‘Fake or Fortune’ (with Fiona Bruce, newsreader and anchor of the BBC’s Antiques Roadshow). This is a BBC art programme which is in its 12th Series. The conceit of the show is that they investigate dubious paintings to find out whether they are genuine or not.
The film revealed that Philip Mould opened his Art Gallery here over a decade ago, but research has recently discovered that this is the very address where Mary Beale had her studio.
Scene shot of Philip Mould in the Mary Beale Exhibition in his short film shot in his Art Gallery.
Her career is not only remarkable in itself, but it was recorded in great detail by her husband. She was the bread winner. He was her partner, and in effect the studio manager. In correspondence, he describes her as his ‘dearest heart’.
Self-Portrait of Mary, with her husband and son
It was a family business and their children also worked as painting assistants, doing draperies and other background details. Her paintings gave them an income of around £200 a year, which is not riches but, by comparison, a labourer got about £30 a year.
She was associated with Sir Peter Lely, the Court painter who succeeded Van Dyke. Mary Beale made copies of many of his paintings. She also painted many pictures of her family.
Mary Beale’s painting after Sir Peter Lely’s portrait of Charles II
There are several excellent short films about Mary Beale on the Gallery’s web site, which is well worth a visit. The exhibition ends on the 19th July, but there is also, for you to see, Tate Britain’s exhibition ‘Now you see us’ which is the story of British female artists from the 1520’s to 1920.
On continued this walk to the Royal Academy when I encountered the painting ‘Flaming June’ by Lord Leighton – I removed the content to its own page which you can see here
I’ve been taking groups around Britain from London to Edinburgh and have fallen behind on my postings.
So, I am going to post a few posts today to put them on my Almanac of the Past. They will be brief, and will be worked up for a re-publication in greater length next year.
Archaeological Discoveries at Elverton St. Westminster
Near the site of the medieval jousting arena in Westminster, London at Elverton St, archaeologists, nearly 30 years ago, excavated a Cemetery which contained the remains of horses. The University of Exeter has recently revealed the results of their analysis of the horses’ bones. The 15 animals studied were found to be above average in height, and marked by a life where they had been worked hard. Analysis of their teeth suggested they came from as far afield as Scandinavia, the Alps, Spain, and Italy.
Three of the animals are the largest found in England at the time. The findings suggest they might be from a Royal Stud farm, providing war, jousting or hunting animals for the elite.
The Hoover Building in Perivale NW London, photo Kevin Flude
I published this piece in April, but for some reason to do with the fact that I published the posts from my phone rather than my computer, no email was sent to subscribers.
So, here is a chance to see it.
What makes owning a narrow boat so wonderful, apart from enjoying living amidst nature, is the accidental discovery of undreamt of wonders. Last week, I moved my narrow boat from Westbourne Park, on the Grand Union Canal, to Perivale. A 3-hour boat trip of less than 10 miles to a frankly uninspiring suburb. But, as so often, mooring in an uninspiring place uncovered surprises that transform the mundane to the delightful.
Paddington branch of the Grand Union Canal heading west from Westbourne Park. Photo Harriet Salisbury
We set off on a beautifully sunny April morning to move the boat the requisite distance to satisfy licence terms. Rain at 12 prompted a premature end to the trip. We trudged to Perivale Underground Station, bemoaning our failure to get to Southall, to enjoy a Dosa In London’s Little India.
The road to Perivale is dull suburbia. But we stopped at a library boasting a cafe, which turned out to be a really nice bit of early 20th Century library architecture, with a cheerful volunteer explaining they were keeping the library from closure due to council cost-cutting.
Perivale Library photo Kevin Flude
They had made the library really cosy with sofas and comfortably sitting areas. Sadly, the promised Café was not open.
Perivale Library. Interior. Photo Kevin Flude
The volunteer pointed us in the direction of a sandwich at the Tesco in the Hoover Building. I had no idea this icon of Modernism was a short walk away, so we jumped at the chance to see, at close range, one of my favourite London buildings.
The Hoover Building (photo K Flude)
I regularly point it out to the groups I take to Oxford. But I have never seen it up close nor standing still. Not only is the building a fabulous cream and green, but it has a backstory of interest to London’s history. As road transport began to remake the geography of London in the early 20th Century, factories in Hackney, Tower Hamlets, Southwark, Lambeth, and other Inner London Boroughs closed, and new factories were constructed on the roads out of London, mostly manufacturing consumer goods. Park Royal, Greenford, Slough and Staines were among the areas to develop as consumerism powered the 20th Century with the production of irons, kettles, hairdryers, radios, washing machines, vacuum cleaners and suchlike delights for the workers and families. The fields around were turned into rows of semi-detached houses to mortgage to the workers.
What made this trip even more special was that one of the original buildings has become a Hotel, in which we discovered a massive Indian Restaurant. There, we found it full of about 500 people eating a fast-breaking Eid dinner. £26 to eat as much as you can, all self-service, with scores of chefs serving their delicious tureens of Asian food. Such a great cultural experience, and rather better than the tasteless Tesco sandwich we were expecting.
If I’m passing the factory on a tour, I tend to read to my group Sir John Betjeman’s patronising poem ‘Slough’ which is about the horror of the new consumer society. ‘Slough’ is wonderful to read and, yet, also, awful, not just the Oxbridge author looking down his long privileged nose at the lower classes but going to the extreme of suggesting Slough would be better off bombed to smithereens.
Guernica was bombed on 26th April 1937 and ‘Slough appeared’ in a Betjeman collection called ‘Continual Dew’ in the same year (I havent located a reference with the actual date of publication). Bad taste in the extreme, hardly mitigated by the fact that it was originally written in 1928 and was about trading estates in general rather than Slough in particular. Still, despite all it is still one of my favourite poems for the insight it gives to attitudes of the British class system.
So, here it is.
Slough
Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough! It isn’t fit for humans now, There isn’t grass to graze a cow. Swarm over, Death!
Come, bombs and blow to smithereens Those air-conditioned, bright canteens, Tinned fruit, tinned meat, tinned milk, tinned beans, Tinned minds, tinned breath.
Mess up the mess they call a town- A house for ninety-seven down And once a week a half a crown For twenty years.
And get that man with double chin Who’ll always cheat and always win, Who washes his repulsive skin In women’s tears:
And smash his desk of polished oak And smash his hands so used to stroke And stop his boring dirty joke And make him yell.
But spare the bald young clerks who add The profits of the stinking cad; It’s not their fault that they are mad, They’ve tasted Hell.
It’s not their fault they do not know The birdsong from the radio, It’s not their fault they often go To Maidenhead
And talk of sport and makes of cars In various bogus-Tudor bars And daren’t look up and see the stars But belch instead.
In labour-saving homes, with care Their wives frizz out peroxide hair And dry it in synthetic air And paint their nails.
Come, friendly bombs and fall on Slough To get it ready for the plough. The cabbages are coming now; The earth exhales.
850 new factories were built in Slough before the outbreak of world war two, and the Trading Estate was first seen here. And yes, they are bleak, and Slough is even now, not the most exciting or architecturally sophisticated of towns. But to imagine bombing a town in a time when there was a real fear of mass destruction from the air?
I particularly object to the line about tinned food because I was brought up on tinned beans, peas, steak and kidney pudding, pineapple chunks, peaches, and rhubarb. And exactly what is wrong with a hair-dryer?
Before I read Slough, I recount an experience I had years ago with an American group who suddenly started laughing for no reason. I enquired, and they pointed to a huge advertising hoarding with a poster about the Electrolux Vacuum Cleaner. Its location near the Hoover building, I imagine might have been deliberate, but what made the Americans laugh was the slogan:
‘Nothing sucks like an Electrolux’
To a British person, the slogan works in a positive sense and we appreciate the wit. For the Americans, it made them all laugh with shock as to why anyone would pay to say their vacuum cleaner was complete pants.
Oh, and second best? Well, the best Modernist Building in London is the Daily Express Building, Fleet Street.
