Fascinating read about the King’s Evil by Andrew Taylor
Here is a post on the King’s Evil, that I forgot to post yesterday.
Aries & Noses
We have just entered Aries. Now according to astrology, Aries is associated with health issues of the face. This, according to ‘Skin and Astrology Signs‘ is because of the “level of heat in their bodies”. So Arians tend to have problems such as “flushing, heat rashes, skin eruptions, and rosacea”. They suggest using chilled cucumber for the eyes and forehead, and using beauty products with soothing aloe vera in them.
Charles Kightly, in his Perpetual Almanac enjoins us to ‘Observe the features of the face which are ruled by Aries and seek cures for ills of the nose’.
The first example, Kightly gives is from an 18th Century publication which explains how to understand people by studying their noses:
Nose round with a sharpness at the end signifies one to be wavering of mind; the nose wholly crooked, to be sure unshamefaced and unstable; crooked like an eagle’s beak, to be bold. The nose flat, to be lecherous and hasty in wrath; the nostrils large, to be ireful.’
The Shepherd’s Prognostication 1729
A Fungous Nose & the King’s Evil
The second rather revolting tale is from John Aubrey.
Arise Evans had a fungous Nose and said, it was revealed to him, that the king’s hand would cure him At the first coming of Charles II into St James Park he kissed the king’s hand and rubbed his nose with it: which disturbed the king, but cured him.
People believed that Scrofula, could be cured by touching the Monarch. Tuberculous cervical lymphadenitis was, thus, known as the King’s Evil. So, the King or Queen would make herself, very reluctantly, available for his sick public to touch her.
Scofula and the King’s Touch
Sketch of Dr Johnson from a portrait.
Dr Samuel Johnson suffered from Scofula and received the “royal touch” from Queen Anne on 30 March 1712 at St James’s Palace. He was given a ribbon, which he wore around his neck for the rest of his life. But it did not cure the disease, and he had to have an operation.
It took place in the winter, between Michaelmas and Easter, when cold weather provoked the disease. The lucky few who were allowed the Touch, would be touched or stroked by the King or Queen on the face or neck. Then a special gold coin, touched by the Monarch, was put around their neck. Readings from the bible and prayer finished the ceremony. Before Queen Elizabeth, the Touch was said to cure many diseases such as Rheumatism, convulsions, fever and blindness, but after it was reserved for Scrofula.
Who Started touching for the King’s Evil?
It was only the French and the English who believed the King’s touch could cure people. The French claimed it began with Philip 1 in the 11th Century. The English claimed Edward the Confessor as the first. But this was denied by the French who claimed that the French King of England, Henry 1 introduced it to the English. The practice lasted until George 1 who resolutely refused to have anything to do with it.
For more on the King’s Evil have a look at this blogpost. Or read the book pictured at the top of the post.
The store cupboards are getting denuded of the fruits, nuts, preserves, pickles, salted and dried foods saved from the summer and autumnal abundance. Of course, this is alleviated by the reduced consumption of the Lenten fast. (I’m continuing my lenten practice of giving up, giving up things for Lent). But nettles are budding. I take a regular cup of nettle tea. Normally, provided by the excellent Cowan’s tea emporium in the Covered Market in Oxford. But I’m running out and not due to visit Oxford for a month or so. So Charles Kightley in his Perpetual Almanac tells me that young stinging nettles are appearing. So, I will watch this YouTube video and collect my own young, juicy nettles.
YouTube Video on making Nettle Tea
Nettle Beer
Or better still, change up the tea for a nettle beer:
Take a gallon measure of freshly gathered young nettles washed well dried and well packed down. Boil them in a gallon of water for at least a quarter of an hour. Then strain them, press them and put the juice in an earthenware pot with a pound of brown sugar and the juice and grated skin of a lemon. Stir well, and before it grows cool put in an ounce of yeast dissolved in some of the liquid. Cover with a cloth and leave in a warm place for four or five days and strain again and bottle it, stopping the bottles well. It’ll be ready after a week, but better if left longer.
Nettle: Detecting Virgins and Flagellation
A more sinister use is provided by William Coles who gives a method of detecting virginity.
‘Nettle tops are usually boiled in pottage in the Springtime, to consume the Phlegmatic superfluities in the body of man, that the coldness and moistness of the winter have left behind. And it is said that if the juice of the roots of nettles be mixed with ale and beer, and given to one that suspected to have lost her maidenhood, if it remain with her, she is a maid, But if she’s spews forth, she is not.‘
William Cole’s Adam in Eden 1657.
William Camden reported that Roman soldiers used nettles to heat up their legs in the cold of a British winter. (from Mrs Greaves’ ‘A Modern Herbal). Perhaps, I should have sent that idea to PM Keir Starmer? He might have suggested the method to Senior Citizens to alleviate the loss of their Winter Fuel Allowance?
In the early modern period nettles were added to horse feed to make their coats shine. It was used as a hair tonic for humans. Nettle Beer was brewed for old people against ‘gouty and rheumatic pains’. Flogging with nettles was a cure for rheumatism and the loss of muscle power!
Nettle Fabrics
The 18th century poet Thomas Campbell is quoted on the virtues of nettles:
“I have slept in nettle sheets, and I have dined off a nettle tablecloth. The young and tender nettle is an excellent potherb. The stalks of the old nettle are as good as flax for making cloth. I have heard my mother say that she thought nettle cloth more durable than any other linen.”
In 2012, a Danish Bronze Age Burial was found to be dressed in a shroud made of Nettle. Strangely, the nettle was not local, perhaps being made in Austria where other objects in the rich burial came from. However, the person was thought to be Scandinavian. For more have a look at this article on www.nbcnews.com.
Greaves tells us that the German and Austrians had a shortage of cotton during the blockade of World War 1. They turned to nettles to replace cotton production believing it to be the only effective substitute. It was also substituted for sugar, starch, protein, paper and ethyl alcohol.
YouTube Video on making fabric from nettles
Nettle Pudding
Pepys ate Nettle Pudding in February 1661 and pronounced it ‘very good’. Here is more on Nettles in history AND a recipe for Nettle Pudding! I can see I’m going to have to get out there and carefully pick myself some nettles! ( For Folklore of Nettles look here).
Today is the Feast day of two significant Saints. St Walpurga and St Ethelbert.
St Walpurga
St Walpurgis was a nun at Wimborne in Dorset. She, and her brothers St Willibald and St Winebald, accompanied their uncle, St Boniface of Crediton (in Devon) on his mission to convert the Germans to Christianity. They all became leading figures in the new German Church. Willibald set up the Monastery at Heidenheim, which was a duel monastery housing both Monks and Nuns. His sister, St Walpurga, became Abbess of the Monastery in 761. She died on 25 February 777 or 779 (the records are unclear),
In 870, St. Walpurga remains were ‘translated’ to Eichstätt, which St Willibald had set up as the Diocesan centre of this part of Bavaria. The date of the transfer was the night of April 30th/May 1st. This used to be her feast day, but it was moved to February 25th, to commemorate her death. However, May Eve is now ‘notorious’ as Walpurgis Night. This is the night of May Eve when witches are abroad up to all sorts of mischief, May Day being one of the main pagan festival days. Her body was placed in a rock-cut niche and her bones started exuding an oil called Walpurgis Oil which was said to have medical properties. She was also involved in a miracle of a boat saved in a storm-tossed sea.
For these reasons, Walpurgis is the Saint for battling pest, rabies, whooping cough, storms (and sailors) and witchcraft. Her remains were moved again in 1035 when she was enshrined at the Benedictine Abbey of St. Walburga which was named after her.
Walpurgis Nacht
Terrible things happen on Walpurgis Night in Dracula by Bram Stoker and the night has now become a trope for Heavy Metal Bands, doyens of horror stories and the Satanic. For more on this read my piece on Walpurgis Nacht.
Coincidently, I was reading about the fuss made about a Heavy Metal Band, called a Plague of Angels, playing in the glorious York Minster. A member of the band was saying people should just chill out. But other group members used to be in a band called ‘The Cradle of Filth’. Among their claims for Heavy Metal Fame is that they wore the most controversial t-shirt in heavy metal history. This has a visual of a nun in a compromising position and a slogan saying ‘Jesus is a ……..’ (add your favourite swear word here). All very silly. But it struck a cord with me, as I have a scene in my novel (unpublished) which is based on extreme forms of Heavy Metal Bands. I thought I might have gone over the top, but this story reassures me that extreme Metal can be quite offensive!
Ethelbert is responsible for welcoming the Augustinian Mission to the Angles sent by the Pope, St Gregory. This re-established Christianity in Eastern Britain, and set up the Anglican Church or the Church of England as it became known.
Coltsfoot is a daisy-like plant which is flowering about now. Gerard’s Herbal of 1633 suggests that the ‘fumes of the dried leaves taken through a funnel’ is good for those with coughs and shortness of breath. He suggests that it is smoked like tobacco and it ‘mightly prevaileth.’
This idea, Mrs Grieves says in her herbal (1931), is endorsed by ‘Dioscorides, Galen, Pliny, and Boyle’. And Coltsfoot is ‘nature’s best herb for the lungs’. (This is historic information re herbs and NOT current medical advice, as Coltsfoot can be very dangerous!).
Detail from Lobspruch deß edlen hochberühmten Krauts Petum oder Taback Nuremberg, 1658 New York Public Library Public Domain
My grandson and parents found a 19th Century pipe bowl, much like the one above, by the Thames where there were many fragments of clay pipe. For more on 17th Century smoking, have a look here.
Cholera in London
The news of the Cholera being in London has been received abroad. According to the feelings of the different nations towards England, France, who wish to court us has ordered a quarantine in her ports of three days; Holland, who feels aggrieved by our conduct at the conference, one of 40 days. The fog so thick in London that the illuminations for the Queen’s Birthday were not visible.
24th February 1832 Thomas Raikes, Diary 1832 (from ‘A London Year’ Compiled by Travis Elborough and Nick Bennison, 2013,
This was the second Cholera Pandemic, but the first to reach the UK. The second landed in Sunderland in October 1831. The extract above was written on 24th February 1832. Cholera killed over 6,000 in London. It was called the Asiatic Cholera based on its origin. The Cholera came more virulently in subsequent decades. It was thought to be spread by a miasma in the air. John Snow proved it was caused by polluted water, but I will tell that story in another post.
I think the Conference mentioned above was the London Conference of May 1832, which aimed to establish a Kingdom of Greece with King, It was set up by Foreign Secretary Lord Palmerston without discussion with the Greeks and ended up giving them a Bavarian King. King Otto.
Doesn’t seem likely that a great power would make decisions without including the main protagonist in the discussions, does it?
Otto was forced from the throne in a revolution in 1862, and replaced by a Danish King, from whom Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh was descended.
First published in February 2024, republished in 2025
I was failing to find anything of significance to post when I came across a London Walks post about Stanley Green. Green was born on 22nd February in 1915. Most people who lived in London, knew of him. He was always to be seen patrolling Oxford Street and other Central London Streets with his placard. He mounted a one-man campaign against too much protein. He thought it was a factor in promoting Lust. Lust was a bad thing. He campaigned, religiously, from 1969 to 1993, when he died.
Whether you agree with his views or not it is doesn’t diminish the impact an ordinary person had on an entire City. For more about him, including a podcast, have a look at the London Walks page here:
Mr Stop Brexit
Another one man campaigner, Mr Stop Brexit, Steve Bray, was to be seen outside Parliament, most days in the run up to Brexit. He perfected photobombing techniques, appearing in the background of interviews of prominent Brexit campaigners, or was heard over his megaphone. He was from Splott in Wales, and said he lost all his friends because they supported Brexit. He continues to campaign.
Steve Bray, also known as Stop Brexit Man. (Wikipedia CC0)
I must admit, I briefly considered dedicating my life to attending events Jacob Rees-Mogg attended, shouting ‘Brexit Opportunities!’ and collapsing in ironic laughter.
Tombstone of Philus from Cirencester (Corinium Dobunnorum) showing his rain cloak
Feralia & Parentalia
Feralia is the last day of Parentalia a 9-Day Festival for the spirits of the Dead. It is described in some detail by the Roman Poet, Ovid, in his Almanac of the year called the ‘Fasti’. Here, he describes how to honour a parent:
And the grave must be honoured. Appease your father’s Spirits, and bring little gifts to the tombs you built. Their shades ask little, piety they prefer to costly Offerings: no greedy deities haunt the Stygian depths. A tile wreathed round with garlands offered is enough, A scattering of meal, and a few grains of salt, And bread soaked in wine, and loose violets: Set them on a brick left in the middle of the path. Not that I veto larger gifts, but these please the shades: Add prayers and proper words to the fixed fires.
There is much more Ovid says about Feralia, and you can read it for free, in translation by A. S. Kline (which I used above, at www.poetryintranslation.com)
In London, archaeologists have found many Roman cemeteries around the City of London. The Romans forbade burial inside the City limits. So, the dead were buried alongside the main roads out of the City Gates. Aldgate towards Colchester, Bishopsgate to the North. Ludgate along Fleet Street to the West. Newgate to Holborn and the North West. From London Bridge to Southwark and the South. These are the places that parents would be remembered at Feralia or before.
Map of Roman Cemeteries from the Museum of London exhibition on the Roman Dead, showing the River Thames and River Fleet. Holborn is to the left, marked ‘Western Cemetery’.
Roman Mortaria
Various rites have been observed. Both inhumation and cremation were practised. I remember excavating a Roman mortaria with a hole in the bottom with the ashes of the dead in it. These large bowls were used as a mortar for grinding foodstuffs. The bottom was deliberated gritted, but they often wore through, and sometimes were reused to hold cremation ashes. I like to imagine, granny being buried in her favourite cooking vessel (or maybe a grandad who baked?).
Many bodies were covered in chalk, perhaps to help preserve the body. A surprising number of bodies are found with the head by the knees. The large number of cases fuels speculation that this was a burial rite, of whom only a percentage were beheaded as a punishment. Some graves shown signs of a funeral pyre.
Author’s photograph of a skeleton displayed at the Roman Dead Exhibition, Museum of London, She was between 26 and 35 years old, who lived a hard life, and possibly had anaemia. Her head was severed either: before and causing death, or shortly after death, and placed between her legs as shown.
Procurator Classicianus.
The rich and powerful were remembered with huge monuments, prominently sited along the main roads. The most famous are the burial stones found at Tower Hill of the Procurator Classicianus. What makes this special is that he is mentioned in Roman accounts of the Boudiccan Revolt of AD 60-61. He suggested to Nero that the Province would only be saved if the revenge against the British was de-escalated. Nero wisely withdrew the vengeful Roman Governor Suetonius Paulinus and replaced him with someone ready to conciliate. The Romans held the province successfully for 350 years or so more.
Reconstruction drawing of two stones found while building Tower Hill Underground Station. They read, something like, ‘To the Spirits of the Dear Departed Fabius Alpini Classicianius, Procurator of the Province of Britannia.Julia, Indi (his wife) Daughter of Pacata of the Indiana voting tribe. Had This Set up.
Sketch of a stone Eagle found in 2013 at an excavation at the Minories just outside the eastern side of the Roman Wall in the City of London.
A beautiful carved eagle which adorned a tombstone was found in the Cemetery in Tower Hamlets. Recently a very grand mausoleum was found in Southwark. To find out more, have a look at the BBC website here:
Finally, last year, an excavation ran by MOLA discovered a ‘funerary bed’ just outside Newgate in Holborn. It was on the banks of the River Fleet, a tributary to the River Thames. The fluvial location meant that there were extraordinary levels of preservation, which included this bed. It was dismantled and buried in the grave. It may have been a bed used as a grave good, perhaps for use in the hereafter. Or it might have been the bed upon which the deceased was carried to the funeral. (Or both?)
Reconstruction of a Roman ‘Funerary’ Bed found dismantled in Holborn, London (Sketch from a MOLA reconstruction drawing)
They found other grave goods. These included an olive oil lamp decorated with an image of a gladiator; jet and amber beads and a glass phial.
Snowdrop, Crocus, Violet and Silver Birch circle in Haggerston Park. (Photo Kevin Flude, 2022)
Ovid’s Metamorphoses tells the story of Crocus and Smilax This poem is one of the most famous in the world, written in about 6 AD. It influenced Dante, Bocaccio, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Keats, Bernard Shaw, and me. It was translated anew by Seamus Hughes.
The mechanicals in ‘The Midsummers Night Dream’ perform Ovid’s story of Pyramus and Thisbe, Titian painted Diana and Actaeon. Shaw wrote about Pygmalion, and we all know the story of Arachne. Claiming to be better than Athene at weaving and then being turned into a spider.
The poem is about love, beauty, change, arrogance and is largely an Arcadian/rural poem. This is a contrast to Ovid’s ‘Art of Love’ which I use for illustrations of life in a Roman town. The stories are all about metamorphoses, mostly changes happening because of love. But it is also an epic as it tells the classical story of the universe from creation to Julius Caesar.
Ovid’s Metamorphoses and the Crocus
Ovid tells us ‘Crocus and his beloved Smilax were changed into tiny flowers.’ But he chooses to give us no more details. So we have to look elsewhere. There are various versions. In the first, Crocus is a handsome mortal youth, beloved of the God Hermes (Mercury). They are playing with a discus which hits Crocus on the head and kills him. Hermes, distraught, turns the youth into a beautiful flower. Three drops of his blood form the stigma of the flower. In another, love hits Crocus and the nymph Smilax, and they are rewarded by immortality as a flower. One tale has Smilax turned into the Bindweed.
Morning Glory or Field Bindweed photo Leslie Saunders unsplash
Ovid’s Metamorphoses and Bindweed
It turns out that Smilax means ‘bindweed’ in Latin. Bindweed is from the Convolvulus family, and I have grown one very successfully in a pot for many years. But they have long roots. According to the RHS ‘Bindweed‘ refers to two similar trumpet-flowered weeds. Both of which twine around other plant stems, smothering them in the process. They are difficult to remove.’ This, could suggest that Smilax is either punished for spurning Crocus, or that she smothered him with love. Medically, Mrs Grieve’s Modern Herbal says all the bindweeds have strong purgative virtues, perhaps another insight into her pyschology?
The Metamorphosis of Data and the correct use of the plural
Apparently, in the UK some say crocuses and others use the correct Latin plural, croci. On an earlier version of this post I used the incorrect plural crocii.
On the subject of Roman plurals, an earth-shattering decision was made by the Financial Times editorial department. Last year they updated their style guide to make the plural word data (datum is the singular form) metamorphise into the singular form.
So it is now wrong to say ‘data are’ but right to say ‘data is’. For example, it was correct to say: ‘the data are showing us that 63% of British speakers use crocuses as the plural’ but now, it is better to write ‘the data is showing us that 37% of British people prefer the correct Latin form of croci’.
Violets and crocuses are coming out. So far, in 2025 I have seen just one flowering in the local park. The crocus represents many things, but because they often come out for St Valentine’s Day, they are associated with Love. White croci usually represented truth, innocence, and purity. The purple variety imply success, pride and dignity. The yellow type is joy.’ according to www.icysedgwick.com/, which gives a fairly comprehensive look at the Crocus.
Photo Mohammad Amiri from unsplash. Notice the crimson stigma and styles, called threads, Crocus is one of the characters in Ovid’s Metamorphoses
Crocus & Saffron
The autumn-flowering perennial plant Crocus sativus, is the one whose stigma gives us saffron. This was spread across Europe by the Romans. They used it for medicine, as a dye, and a perfume. It was much sought after as a protection against the plague. It was extensively grown in the UK. Saffron Walden was a particularly important production area in the 16th and 17th Centuries.
Saffron in London
It was grown in the Bishop of Ely’s beautiful Gardens in the area remembered by the London street name: Saffron Hill. It is home to the fictional Scrooge. This area became the London home of Christopher Hatton, the favourite of Queen Elizabeth 1. For more on Christopher Hatton see my post on nicknames Queen Elizabeth I gave to her favourites). His garden was on the west bank of the River Fleet, in London EC1, in the area now know as Hatton Garden.
I found out more about Saffron from listening to BBC Radio 4’s Gardener’s Question time and James Wong.
The place-name Croydon (on the outskirts of London), means Crocus Valley. a place where Saffron was grown. The Saffron crops in Britain failed eventually because of the cost of harvesting, and it became cheaper to import it. It is now grown in Spain, Iran and India amongst other places. But attempts over the last 5 years have been made to reintroduce it, This is happening in Norfolk, Suffolk, Kent and Sussex – the hot and dry counties. It likes a South facing aspect, and needs to be protected from squirrels and sparrows who love it.
Saffron Photo by Vera De on Unsplash Viola odorata CC BY-SA 2.5 Wikipedia
Violets
Violets have been used as cosmetics by the Celts; to moderate anger by the Athenians, for insomnia by the Iranians and loved by all because of their beauty and fragrance. They have been symbols of death for the young, and used as garlands, nosegays posies which Gerard says are ‘delightful’.
For more on Ovid use the search facility (click on menu) or read my post here.
The Greeat Freeze. ‘Skating on the Serpentine’ by Lucien Davis Antique wood-engraved print. Illustrated London News double page from 2 March 1895 (print owned by K Flude)
The Great Freeze
London, February 12. There is no abatement of the abnormally cold weather which has prevailed in northern Europe for the last week. The Upper Thames is frozen over, and huge blocks of ice breaking away from the mass are floating down, the river, causing much damage to the smaller shipping craft. Water traffic is consequently at a complete standstill.
Many cases of death from cold and exposure are reported, the privation and distress in the east end of the city being particularly severe. The cold is so intense that birds are found frozen to death on the branches of the trees, and thousands are perishing. The severe weather has also directly caused considerable mortality, a number of deaths from exposure having been reported among postmen, omnibus drivers, cabmen, and labourers.
Winter of 1895 Limehouse to left, Tower of London to right. Images from Isle of Dogs blog.
1895 was the culmination of a decade of particularly cold winters (and for some the end of the so-called Little Ice Age). On the 11th February, the coldest day in British History was recorded at Braemar at −27.2 °C. February 1895 was the second coldest on record, with the lowest minimum temperatures on record. Shipping in the biggest port in the world was stopped. Many workers were laid off, and had to resort to what were then called ‘soup kitchens’ and now ‘food banks’. Winter death rates were said to be doubled, with people dying in the street and in unheated homes.
Record minima were set for these dates in February 1895:
7th: −21.7 °C or −7.1 °F
8th: −25.0 °C or −13.0 °F
9th: −23.9 °C or −11.0 °F
10th: −25.6 °C or −14.1 °F
11th: −27.2 °C or −17.0 °F
12th: −20.6 °C or −5.1 °F
13th: −21.9 °C or −7.4 °F
14th: −21.7 °C or −7.1 °F
16th: −23.9 °C or −11.0 °F
17th: −23.9 °C or −11.0 °F
18th: −23.9 °C or −11.0 °F
19th: −22.2 °C or −8.0 °F
Source Wikipedia.
On the flip side people resorted to ponds around London particularly the Serpentine which had 6 inches of ice and 50,000 skaters, with speed skating competitions.
1554 – Lady Jane Grey was executed after a trial at the Guildhall. Her husband was executed on the same day. Her adoption as heir to the throne was ordered by her cousin Edward VI. His minister, John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, (and Jane’s Father-in-Law) arranged for the Privy Council to accept Jane as the next monarch. They were trying to prevent Henry VIII’s Catholic daughter, Mary taking the throne. Jane was Queen for 9 Days. The Privy Council swapped sides as support for Jane collapsed. Jane was the Great-granddaughter of Henry VII and cousins to Mary, Elizabeth and Edward VI.
Published February 12th 2024, and republished 2025
In 2023, I saw my first Daffodil in Hackney in a Council Estate on 12 January. My first daffodil in 2024 was outside my first floor window in early February. In 2025, I can see the shoots of Daffodils in my garden but nothing blooming. However, there are the first daffodils in my area by the side of a different Council Estate. They bring such joy and hope for the return of the Sun.
12 Jan 2023. Hackney, London, the first Daffodil.
Narcissus the Flower
Their formal name is Narcissus. The Roman natural historian, Pliny tells us that the plant was:
‘named Narcissus from narkē not from the fabulous boy.’
Narkē is the Greek word from which we derive the word narcotic. It is a reference to the narcotic properties of the narcissus. An extract of the bulb applied to open wounds produced numbness of the whole nervous system and paralysis of the heart. The flowers are also slightly poisonous. So, they were used as an emetic. They brought on vomiting when it was felt necessary that the stomach be emptied. It was used to treat hysteria and epilepsy. They treated children with bronchial catarrh or epidemic dysentery. Among Arabian doctors, it was used to cure baldness and as an aphrodisiac. (Source: A Modern Herbal by Mrs M Grieve.) Please remember these are not recommendations for use medicinally, but are historic uses and may be dangerous.
Daffodils & Narcissus the Fabulous Boy
The fabulous boy, mentioned by Pliny, was Narcissus. He, according to the Roman Poet Ovid, met the nymph Echo, and she fell in love with the beautiful boy. He spurned her, and she faded until all that remained of her was her voice – the echo we hear.
Nemesis, the Goddess of Revenge (the one with the fiery sword) decided on revenge upon the handsome boy. She lured the thirsty youth to a fountain, where he saw an image of a breathtakingly handsome boy. He fell instantly in love with such beauty. But it was an image of himself. Realising he would never meet anyone as fabulous as himself, he faded from life. He eventually metamorphised into a white and yellow flower, which was named after him.
Nemesis from the painting on the Staircase at Hampton Court by Antonio Verrio, Photo K Flude
Daffodils & Shakespeare
Daffodils are mentioned in a list of Spring Flowers by Shakespeare in the pastoral play The Winter’s Tale:
(Please note that as you read Shakespeare’s words below that Prosperpina is the wife of Pluto, the God of the Underworld, Dis, is another name for him, Cytherea is the Goddess of Beauty and Love. Phoebus is the Sun God. And the Spring Flowers are Daffodils, violets, primroses, oxlips(primula), Crown Imperial (Fritillaria imperialis), Lilies, flower-De-luce (Iris)
Perdita to Camillo
Out, alas! You’d be so lean that blasts of January Would blow you through and through. (To Florizel) I would I had some flowers o’th’ spring, that might Become your time of day – (to the Shepherdesses) That wear upon your virgin branches yet Your maidenheads growing. O Proserpina, For the flowers now that, frighted, thou let’st fall From Dis’s waggon! Daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets, dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno’s eyes Or Cytherea’s breath; pale primroses, That die unmarried ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength – a malady Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one: O, these I lack To make you garlands of, and my sweet friend To strew him o’er and o’er!WT IV.iv.110.2
The reference to Daffodils suggests that for Shakespeare they are around to withstand the March Winds before the Swallows arrive in April. With selective breeding, early flowering species have been developed. Now February and even January are within the scope of the glorious bulb. (here is a post on winter flowering varieties)
Once a noisy Nymph, (who never held her tongue when others spoke, who never spoke till others had begun) mocking Echo, spied him as he drove, in his delusive nets, some timid stags.—For Echo was a Nymph, in olden time,—and, more than vapid sound,—possessed a form: and she was then deprived the use of speech, except to babble and repeat the words, once spoken, over and over. Juno confused her silly tongue, because she often held that glorious goddess with her endless tales, till many a hapless Nymph, from Jove’s embrace, had made escape adown a mountain. But for this, the goddess might have caught them. Thus the glorious Juno, when she knew her guile; “Your tongue, so freely wagged at my expense, shall be of little use; your endless voice, much shorter than your tongue.” At once the Nymph was stricken as the goddess had decreed;—and, ever since, she only mocks the sounds of others’ voices, or, perchance, returns their final words.
One day, when she observed Narcissus wandering in the pathless woods, she loved him and she followed him, with soft and stealthy tread.—The more she followed him the hotter did she burn, as when the flame flares upward from the sulphur on the torch. Oh, how she longed to make her passion known! To plead in soft entreaty! to implore his love! But now, till others have begun, a mute of Nature she must be. She cannot choose but wait the moment when his voice may give to her an answer. Presently the youth, by chance divided from his trusted friends, cries loudly, “Who is here?” and Echo, “Here!” Replies. Amazed, he casts his eyes around, and calls with louder voice, “Come here!” “Come here!” She calls the youth who calls.—He turns to see who calls him and, beholding naught exclaims, “Avoid me not!” “Avoid me not!” returns. He tries again, again, and is deceived by this alternate voice, and calls aloud; “Oh let us come together!” Echo cries, “Oh let us come together!” Never sound seemed sweeter to the Nymph, and from the woods she hastens in accordance with her words, and strives to wind her arms around his neck. He flies from her and as he leaves her says, “Take off your hands! you shall not fold your arms around me. Better death than such a one should ever caress me!” Naught she answers save, “Caress me!” Thus rejected she lies hid in the deep woods, hiding her blushing face with the green leaves; and ever after lives concealed in lonely caverns in the hills. But her great love increases with neglect; her miserable body wastes away, wakeful with sorrows; leanness shrivels up her skin, and all her lovely features melt, as if dissolved upon the wafting winds—nothing remains except her bones and voice—her voice continues, in the wilderness; her bones have turned to stone. She lies concealed in the wild woods, nor is she ever seen on lonely mountain range; for, though we hear her calling in the hills, ’tis but a voice, a voice that lives, that lives among the hills.
Thus he deceived the Nymph and many more, sprung from the mountains or the sparkling waves; and thus he slighted many an amorous youth.—and therefore, some one whom he once despised, lifting his hands to Heaven, implored the Gods, “If he should love deny him what he loves!” and as the prayer was uttered it was heard by Nemesis, who granted her assent.
There was a fountain silver-clear and bright, which neither shepherds nor the wild she-goats, that range the hills, nor any cattle’s mouth had touched—its waters were unsullied—birds disturbed it not; nor animals, nor boughs that fall so often from the trees. Around sweet grasses nourished by the stream grew; trees that shaded from the sun let balmy airs temper its waters. Here Narcissus, tired of hunting and the heated noon, lay down, attracted by the peaceful solitudes and by the glassy spring. There as he stooped to quench his thirst another thirst increased. While he is drinking he beholds himself reflected in the mirrored pool—and loves; loves an imagined body which contains no substance, for he deems the mirrored shade a thing of life to love. He cannot move, for so he marvels at himself, and lies with countenance unchanged, as if indeed a statue carved of Parian marble. Long, supine upon the bank, his gaze is fixed on his own eyes, twin stars; his fingers shaped as Bacchus might desire, his flowing hair as glorious as Apollo’s, and his cheeks youthful and smooth; his ivory neck, his mouth dreaming in sweetness, his complexion fair and blushing as the rose in snow-drift white. All that is lovely in himself he loves, and in his witless way he wants himself:—he who approves is equally approved; he seeks, is sought, he burns and he is burnt. And how he kisses the deceitful fount; and how he thrusts his arms to catch the neck that’s pictured in the middle of the stream! Yet never may he wreathe his arms around that image of himself. He knows not what he there beholds, but what he sees inflames his longing, and the error that deceives allures his eyes. But why, O foolish boy, so vainly catching at this flitting form? The cheat that you are seeking has no place. Avert your gaze and you will lose your love, for this that holds your eyes is nothing save the image of yourself reflected back to you. It comes and waits with you; it has no life; it will depart if you will only go.
Nor food nor rest can draw him thence—outstretched upon the overshadowed green, his eyes fixed on the mirrored image never may know their longings satisfied, and by their sight he is himself undone. Raising himself a moment, he extends his arms around, and, beckoning to the murmuring forest; “Oh, ye aisled wood was ever man in love more fatally than I? Your silent paths have sheltered many a one whose love was told, and ye have heard their voices. Ages vast have rolled away since your forgotten birth, but who is he through all those weary years that ever pined away as I? Alas, this fatal image wins my love, as I behold it. But I cannot press my arms around the form I see, the form that gives me joy. What strange mistake has intervened betwixt us and our love? It grieves me more that neither lands nor seas nor mountains, no, nor walls with closed gates deny our loves, but only a little water keeps us far asunder. Surely he desires my love and my embraces, for as oft I strive to kiss him, bending to the limpid stream my lips, so often does he hold his face fondly to me, and vainly struggles up. It seems that I could touch him. ‘Tis a strange delusion that is keeping us apart. Whoever thou art, Come up! Deceive me not! Oh, whither when I fain pursue art thou? Ah, surely I am young and fair, the Nymphs have loved me; and when I behold thy smiles I cannot tell thee what sweet hopes arise. When I extend my loving arms to thee thine also are extended me—thy smiles return my own. When I was weeping, I have seen thy tears, and every sign I make thou cost return; and often thy sweet lips have seemed to move, that, peradventure words, which I have never heard, thou hast returned. No more my shade deceives me, I perceive ‘Tis I in thee—I love myself—the flame arises in my breast and burns my heart—what shall I do? Shall I at once implore? Or should I linger till my love is sought? What is it I implore? The thing that I desire is mine—abundance makes me poor. Oh, I am tortured by a strange desire unknown to me before, for I would fain put off this mortal form; which only means I wish the object of my love away. Grief saps my strength, the sands of life are run, and in my early youth am I cut off; but death is not my bane—it ends my woe.—I would not death for this that is my love, as two united in a single soul would die as one.”
He spoke; and crazed with love, returned to view the same face in the pool; and as he grieved his tears disturbed the stream, and ripples on the surface, glassy clear, defaced his mirrored form. And thus the youth, when he beheld that lovely shadow go; “Ah whither cost thou fly? Oh, I entreat thee leave me not. Alas, thou cruel boy thus to forsake thy lover. Stay with me that I may see thy lovely form, for though I may not touch thee I shall feed my eyes and soothe my wretched pains.” And while he spoke he rent his garment from the upper edge, and beating on his naked breast, all white as marble, every stroke produced a tint as lovely as the apple streaked with red, or as the glowing grape when purple bloom touches the ripening clusters. When as glass again the rippling waters smoothed, and when such beauty in the stream the youth observed, no more could he endure. As in the flame the yellow wax, or as the hoar-frost melts in early morning ‘neath the genial sun; so did he pine away, by love consumed, and slowly wasted by a hidden flame. No vermeil bloom now mingled in the white of his complexion fair; no strength has he, no vigor, nor the comeliness that wrought for love so long: alas, that handsome form by Echo fondly loved may please no more.
But when she saw him in his hapless plight, though angry at his scorn, she only grieved. As often as the love-lore boy complained, “Alas!” “Alas!” her echoing voice returned; and as he struck his hands against his arms, she ever answered with her echoing sounds. And as he gazed upon the mirrored pool he said at last, “Ah, youth beloved in vain!” “In vain, in vain!” the spot returned his words; and when he breathed a sad “farewell!” “Farewell!” sighed Echo too. He laid his wearied head, and rested on the verdant grass; and those bright eyes, which had so loved to gaze, entranced, on their own master’s beauty, sad Night closed. And now although among the nether shades his sad sprite roams, he ever loves to gaze on his reflection in the Stygian wave. His Naiad sisters mourned, and having clipped their shining tresses laid them on his corpse: and all the Dryads mourned: and Echo made lament anew. And these would have upraised his funeral pyre, and waved the flaming torch, and made his bier; but as they turned their eyes where he had been, alas he was not there! And in his body’s place a sweet flower grew, golden and white, the white around the gold.
First published in February 2023, revise and republished in February 2024, 2025
Saint Apollonia. Woodcut. Saint of Toothache Wellcome Collection. Public Domain Mark. She is shown with forceps and extracted tooth and the martyr’s palm.
The 9th of February is St Apollonia’s Day. She was martyred at Alexandria in 249 AD during the persecution of Emperor Decius. She was attacked during an anti-Christian riot and struck around the face knocking her teeth out. Then, she was taken to a bonfire and told they would throw her in if she did not renounce her faith. So, without waiting, she spoke a prayer and walked into the fire. This information is recorded in a near-contemporary letter from St Dionysius of Alexandria. This is rare well documented martyrdom. Because her teeth were knocked out she is, therefore, Saint of Toothache.
Cloves for Toothache
I can remember my Grandmother prescribing cloves for me when I had toothache. And this was, and is, a common remedy. In my case, we would keep a clove or two in the mouth close to the site of the pain. According to Natural Ways to Sooth an Toothache cloves contain
‘Eugenol, a natural form of anaesthetic and antiseptic that helps get rid of germs. Eugenol is still used in dental materials today’
Dr John Hall, Shakespeare’s son-in-law, tended to use a pill to soothe sore gums. He also used an oil from a wood called ‘Ol. Lig. Heraclei’ which may be oil from the Bay Tree. (‘John Hall and his Patients’ by Joan Lane). Most of his tooth cases seem to be sore gums. This suggests to me Dr John Hall did not generally do dental work.
Death by Toothache
To get a tooth drawn you could go to a Barber Surgeon, a Blacksmiths or specialist Tooth Drawer. It would be terrifyingly painful. Probably only done when the pain was unbearable. Just think what a premium you would pay for a really competent drawer? The drawers would probably not have any formal training, but the skills would be passed on by the drawer to his apprentice or assistant. ‘Teeth’ was a common cause of death – most likely from infection or an abscess.
List of causes of death, London during the plague of 1665. Teeth killed 11 people
Magic and Toothache
John Aubrey, an erudite and educated 17th Century writer, reports on the use of Magick for tooth care. When he relates these unlikely cures he often provides information that the person who told him the story is worthy of belief. So he seems to give some credence to the efficacy of these magical ‘cures’. But, judge for yourself; this is what he wrote:
To Cure the Tooth-ach.
Take a new Nail, and make the Gum bleed with it, and then drive it into an Oak. This did Cure William Neal, Sir William Neal’s Son, a very stout Gentleman, when he was almost Mad with the Pain, and had a mind to have Pistoll’d himself.
To Cure the Tooth-ach, out of Mr. Ashmole’s Manuscript Writ with his own Hand.
Mars, hur, abursa, aburse. Iesu Christ for Marys sake, Take away this Tooth-ach.
Write the words, Three times; and as you say the Words, let the Party burn one Paper, then another, and then the last.
He says, he saw it experimented, and the Party immediately Cured
May, Williams and Bishop at the Old Bailey accused of murder in pursuit of bodysnatching
Teeth and the Body-Snatchers
In 1832, in London Bishop, Williams and May were accused of bodysnatching. After killing the Italian Boy ( wonderful book by Sarah Wise ‘The Italian Boy‘) they jemmied out his teeth. Then, took the teeth to a South London Dentist. with whom they bargained for a good price. (They used the term ‘cheapened’ – I cheap, you cheap, we are cheapening: meaning to barter). The dentist wanted to use the dead boy’s teeth for false teeth for his patients. If memory serves, he paid £1 for them.
The teeth were used as evidence in the trial of the murderers. When the trial was over and the accused punished, the dentist asked for the teeth back! Two of the murderers were hanged but the third freed for turning King’s Evidence. Thereafter, the teeth were released back to the Dentist. He promptly put them in the window of his surgery as an advert for his professional skills!
Earlier, one of the Borough Boys Resurrectionist gang (based in Southwark, London) toured the battlefields of the Peninsular Wars collecting teeth. He made a substantial sum selling them to dentists as false teeth. They became known as Waterloo Teeth.
When I first wrote this in I added ‘How things have changed!’ But in recent years there have been reports of people undertaking their own dental work, if they cannot get access to an NHS dentist. Effectively, it seems that the Conservative Government was allowing dentistry to slip out of the NHS just like it did with eye health. For a study in what has happened to Dentistry in the UK in recent years, please look at this report here.
First written February 2023, revised February 2024, 2025
