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
The 15th Century French llustration, above, shows February as a time to cut firewood, dress warmly and stay by the fire. Food on the table is a nutritious pie and the fish are there to remind us it is the month of Pisces. In the other roundel is the other February star sign the Water Carrier, Aquarius.
Star signs of February
Pisces From the zodiac from kalendar of shepherds
The poem above is a reference to Candlemas’s celebration of the presentation of the child Jesus at the Temple. The paragraph below gives a summary of February. It ends with the idea that runs through the Kalendar. There are twelve apostles, twelve days of Christmas, twelve months in the year. So, there are twelve blocks of six years in a person’s allotted 72 years of life. So February is linked to the second block of 6 years in a human life, ages 6 to 12. In January, the Kalendar suggests the essential uselessness of 0-6 year old children. While here, for February, it allows that from 6-12 years old children are beginning to ‘serve and learn’.
Below, is the text for February. This gives a rural view of life in winter. It ends with the line that February:
‘is the poor man’s pick-purse, the miser’s cut-throat, the enemy to pleasure and the time of patience.’
February in the Kalendar of Shepherds
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.
Hesiod, in his Works and Daya describes February as a merciless cold, windy time.
Avoid the month Lenaeon, (February) wretched days, all of them fit to skin an ox, and the frosts which are cruel when Boreas blows over the earth. He blows across horse-breeding Thrace upon the wide sea and stirs it up, while earth and the forest howl. On many a high-leafed oak and thick pine he falls and brings them to the bounteous earth in mountain glens: then all the immense wood roars and the beasts shudder and put their tails between their legs, even those whose hide is covered with fur; for with his bitter blast he blows even through them, although they are shaggy-breasted. He goes even through an ox’s hide; it does not stop him. Also he blows through the goat’s fine hair. But through the fleeces of sheep, because their wool is abundant, the keen wind Boreas pierces not at all; but it makes the old man curved as a wheel. And it does not blow through the tender maiden who stays indoors with her dear mother, unlearned as yet in the works of golden Aphrodite, and who washes her soft body and anoints herself with oil and lies down in an inner room within the house, on a winter’s day when the Boneless One (an Octopus or a cuttle?) gnaws his foot in his fireless house and wretched home; for the sun shows him no pastures to make for, but goes to and fro over the land and city of dusky men,3 and shines more sluggishly upon the whole race of the Hellenes. Then the horned and unhorned denizens of the wood,] with teeth chattering pitifully, flee through the copses and glades, and all, as they seek shelter, have this one care, to gain thick coverts or some hollow rock. Then, like the Three-legged One (an old man with a stick) whose back is broken and whose head looks down upon the ground, like him, I say, they wander to escape the white snow.
January 30th is the anniversary execution of King Charles I. Today, he was beheaded as a murderer and traitor. Or as a Royalist would see it, it is the anniversary of the Martyrdom of Charles I.
Thousands came to see the execution, amongst them Samuel Pepys. They crowded around the scaffold outside a window of Inigo Jones’s magnificent Banqueting Hall, in Whitehall, London. Charles was brought to the Banqueting House and must have looked up at the magnificent Peter Paul Reubens’ ceiling. Charles had ordered it the depiction of the Apotheosis of his father, James I. It was the symbol of the Divine Right of the King to rule. I
I doubt he saw the irony. It is more likely he thought on going to heaven in glory as a Martyr to his religion. He walked outside, through the window, into the cold January air. Two of his bloodstained shirts still exist probably to stop him shivering. He would want to to be seen as going fearless to his death not shivering with fear. Then, he made a short speech exonerating himself. He spoke without stammering for the first time in his public life. All the Rooftops around were lined with spectators. Black cloth framed the scaffold. As the executioner axe fell, there was a dull grown from the crowd (most could not see the axe falling).
This was on January 30th, 1648. But, if you look at a history book, it will tell you it was in 1649. This was before our conversation to the Gregorian calendar. Then the year number changed not as we do on January 1st but on March 25th. This was the day the Archangel Gabriel revealed to the Virgin Mary that she was pregnant. For more on the importance of March 25th look at my Almanac entry here:
On the same day, twelve years later, in 1660 Oliver Cromwell and his chief henchmen were dug up from their splendid Westminster Abbey tombs. Their bodies were abused by official command. Cromwell’s head was stuck on the top of Westminster Hall. There it remained until it was blown off in the Great Fire of 1703 (or 1672, or 1684). It was picked up and taken to Cambridge, Sidney Sussex College, which Cromwell attended. It was buried somewhere which is said to be known only to the Head Porter. (According to someone who came on my Oliver Cromwell Walk at the weekend.) Whether it is his head or not is disputed. The ins and outs of that tale are told in detail here.
The Royalist, John Evelyn, said in his diary:
This day (oh the stupendous, and inscrutable Judgements of God) were the Carkasses of that arch-rebel Cromwel1, Bradshaw, the Judge who condemned his Majestie and Ireton, sonn in law to the usurper, dragged out of their superb Tombs (in Westminster among the Kings) to Tybourne, and hanged on the Gallows there from 9 in the morning till 6 at night, and then buried under that fatal and ignominious Monument in a deep pit. Thousands of people (who had seen them in all their pride and pompous insults) being spectators .
Samuel Pepys records by contrast:
…do trouble me that a man of so great courage as he was should have that dishonour, though otherwise he might deserve it enough…
Pepys served the Parliamentary side before the restoration of Charles II, when he adroitly, swapped over to the Royalist side.
Today, I am doing a Guided Walk and a Virtual Tour on Charles I and the Civil War. Look here for details.
On This Day
1969 Get Back to Where you Once Belonged – This is also the anniversary of the rooftop concert in Saville Row where the Beatles played ‘Get Back’.
YouTube Clip with scenes from the Roof Top Concert
First published in 2023, revised on January 29th 2024, and 2025
Sorry to send an additional post but coming up are a couple of fascinating Virtual Tours which I would like to remind you of!
Tonight is an exploration of early 19th Century London. It is based on the 1809 Picture of London Guide book. An original copy was given to me by someone grateful to have attended one of my lectures at the Old Operating Theatre Museum. It is a tour of what Jane Austen could have visited on her walks around London. There are Austen associations, but mainly we are looking at London in 1809.
Jane Austen’s ‘A Picture of London in 1809’ Virtual Walk Mon 7.30 27th Jan25 To book
Yesterday, I was asked to give a Cromwell’s London walk as a 75th Birthday present. I haven’t done one for at least 25 years. But I really enjoyed the research. So added a guided walk and a virtual tour to my programme. This is the first time I have done this VT and it is a cracking story.
The Civil War, Restoration and the Great Fire of London Virtual Tour 7:30pm Thurs 30th Jan25To book
Finally, April is the month we go on pilgrimages, as Chaucer said (in Old English). So, in addition to my Chaucer Walks, I have added a Virtual tour so we can go all the way to Canterbury.
Chaucer’s London To Canterbury Virtual Pilgrimage 7.30pm Friday 18th April 25 To book
I may add one or two more before the Sun comes back
Many plants can be used for hedges, but hawthorn is the most common. It can be planted as bare-root from Autumn to Spring, so January is as good a time as any. It can also be grown from the seeds from its red berries. But this takes 18 months to achieve. Interspersed along the hedge should be trees—either trees for timber, or crab-apples or pear-stocks. Trees were also useful as markers. Before modern surveys, property would be delineated by ancient trees. Hedges could be removed. Trees were more difficult to eradicate.
Hawthorn hedges are an oasis for insects, mammals and migrating birds (who eat the berries). It is a lovely plant for May. In fact, it is often called May, or the May Flower or May Tree and also whitethorn. The berries are called ‘haws’ hence hawthorn. For more on this, look at https://whisperingearth.co.uk.
Hawthorns & Folklore
Hawthorn produces white flowers in Spring. So, it is one of the great pagan fertility plants, its flowers forming the garlands on May Eve. One of the chemicals in the plant is the same as one given out in decay of flesh. It is, therefore, associated with death in folklore, and not to be brought into the house.
It was also said to be the thorn in the Crown of Thorns, so sacred. A crown from the helmet of the dead King Richard III was found on a hawthorn bush at the Battle of Bosworth Field. The victorious Henry VII adopted it for a symbol. . For more on the plant, https://www.woodlandtrust.org.uk
A ‘Quarry’ of Stained Glass showing the Crown, a hawthorn Bush and initials representing Henry VII and his, Queen, Elizabeth of York. Possibly from Surrey. Early 16th Century and from the Metropolitan Museum of Art (Public Domain).
The virtues of Hawthorn
John Worlidge, wrote in 1697
‘And first, the White-thorn is esteemed the best for fencing; it is raised either of Seeds or Plants; by Plants is the speediest way, but by Seeds where the place will admit of delay, is less charge, and as successful, though it require longer time, they being till the Spring come twelvemonth ere they spring out of the Earth; but when they have past two or three years, they flourish to admiration.’
Hawthorn is an excellent wood for burning, better than oak. It has the hottest fire so that its charcoal could melt pig-iron without the need of a blast. It is also good for making small objects such as boxes, combs, and tool-handles. It takes a fine polish, so also used for veneers and cabinets. For advice on the best wood to burn read my post.
Hawthorn has many medicinal benefits according to herbalists. Mrs Grieve’s Herbal suggests it was used as a cardiac tonic, to cure sore throats and as a diuretic. But don’t try any of these ancient remedies without medical advice!
What to plant in late January
This is the time, according to Moon Gardeners, to plant and sow plants that develop below ground. So rhubarb and garlic, fruit trees, bushes, bare-root plants and hedging plants.
First Published in January 2023, revised in January 2024
On This Day
1785 – ‘Boys play on the Plestor at marbles & peg-top. Thrushes sing in the Coppices. Thrushes & blackbirds are much reduced.’ From Gilbert White’s Garden Kalendar in Gilbert White’s Year. the Plestor is the village green. peg-top is a spinning top game. For more on Gilbert White, the inspirer of Darwin, see my post.
News from the Almanac showing readership/viewership of the site.
I have been waiting for a day when I haven’ t got a post to publish. Why? To update readers about the Almanac of the Past. And with a bit of manoeuvring today is the day.
What is the News from the Almanac of the Past?
The plan is to have a post for each day. I am virtually there for November to March, but a way away for the warmer months.
In the winter months, I have been revising, improving, developing and adding content to previously published pages. For those of you who have been here a while, you will have been receiving posts you have seen before. Next year, you might be seeing some for the third time. I’m not sure what to do about this except improve posts and add content. But I am considering stopping automatically posting repeated posts to subscribers. Maybe from next November? Feed back would be good – please email me at kpflude at chr . org . uk (I’ve slightly scrambled the email to stop the robots).
What is the planned content for the Almanac of the Past?
The nature of an almanac is to be a pot-pourri. They are about seasons, time, folklore, history, important events, and anniversaries. I also like to cover history, famous people and discoveries. Gods, Goddesses, Saints, sinners, and archaeology. What I want it to be is something that makes us more mindful about the passing of the year. How seasons and time change the way people see their world. My focus is mostly on the UK, but also on Rome and Greece. With occasional excursions to other places. I am trying to find more content that is London-based, but not to the exclusion of everything else. I also have an ambition to add more important news of discoveries that change our view of the past. If I get the formula right, I will attempt to get a publication from it, otherwise it will remain online.
Developments for the Almanac
It takes quite a lot of time for me to keep it up. You will see, from the graph above, that the readership is yearly making progress. Particularly, last year. But then it’s a steady progress from a small base, rather than Kardashian viral.
This is, at least, partially because I would rather not spend my time marketing. I want to be writing. But, I have decided I need to spend a little more time marketing the site. When I ran the Old Operating Theatre Museum, I had the skills to get our web site to first place on google searches. But this was in the pioneering days of the World Wide Web. Now, it’s more difficult, but I am taking a ‘Search Engine Optimisation’ (SEO) course. I have also loaded some ‘plugins’ to WordPress which help with SEO. I thought you might be interested in some of the consequences.
The plugins ‘parse’ the site and give recommendations for improvements. This should, get the site further up the Google landing page. I have no doubt that it involves or will involve AI. The ‘Yoast’ plugin I am using as I type this, tells me words like ‘however’ are a ‘complex’ word and so they down grade my ‘readability’ quotient. It also tells me that that last sentence was too long. So, it wants simple sentences, and words that join sentences together. And not too many sentences in a paragraph and a proper scattering of headings.
It also assesses the SEOness of the text. So I have to tell it what the main subject of the page is. And it wants that word or phrase in:
the title: the first paragraph the image the meta description tag and scattered, but not too densely (because Google will punish the site for playing the algorithm) through the text.
Hence, you will see the phrase ‘News from the Almanac’ scattered more than I would normally like through this text. Of course, I know no one really will be searching for ‘News from the Almanac. So I should change the SEO phrase just to Almanac. But, then I’m not really interested in attracting non-readers to this page. I see this as between me and my email subscribers!
After writing that paragraph I realised that I would want people to land up here if they typed in ‘Almanac of the Past’. So you will see, I’ve editing the text scattering that phrase here and thereabouts.
In effect, I am being trained by a slightly stupid tutor who has no particular understanding of the needs of a writer of history! And you can’t answer back, you just get downgraded!
And it seems to be working as my numbers are getting better more quickly.
Any problems for the Almanac of the Past?
Obviously, my terrible proofreading is a concern! Maybe that’s one-way republishing helps. A year later, it’s easier to see the typos, the ugly writing, and issues with the content.
But there is another issue with the emails, which I have been trying to solve for about 6 months. The links in the emailed posts don’t work. But they do work if you visit the almanac on the web. This is nuts as I always use the full URL. For example: https://www.chr.org.uk/anddidthosefeet/december-29th-st-thomas-wassailing/.
So, this is very much a technical issue, one might say a bug in the system. I think it stems from the fact that my blog was stored not in https:/public_html/ but in https://public_html/anddidthosefeet. This seemed a logical choice at the time, as the blog shared space with other things. I haven’t managed to convince the tech guys at either the internet provider or WordPress that this is a bug. So, the alternative is to move the blog. But I am reluctant to do this in case it completely messes everything up.
Change the content of the newsletter, you might think. But I can find nothing that allows me to alter or add anything to the email version of the post. As I write this, I think I will temporarily add a line at the bottom of the post which says:
if the links are not working, copy and paste this URL https://www.chr.org.uk/anddidthosefeet/whateverkevinsalmanacpageiscalled
to your browser. This, will get you to the Almanac of the Past on the web where all the links will work.
And this will allow you to easily copy or link to the webpage and send the Almanac of the Past to your friends and followers. (I’m hoping you are Taylor Swift). You willalso be able to comment easily and maybe even like the post?
Another advantage of visiting the web version is that you get a better version to read. This is because I often find howling typos when I read the emailed post. I correct them, with a red embarrassed face.
If you are reading this on the web, then all the above must have been very annoying to read! Maybe I will move it down to the bottom of the post! (which I did).
Trying new things on the Blog
Do you want to make a comment?
Please leave me a comment – its great to hear what you think.Cancel reply
In order to clear January 22nd I moved the previous January 22nd post to December 10th. As its all about Mulled Wine, Glugg, and Gluwein., its better at the beginning of the Christmas Season than in late January.
To see it click here: or cut and past this url https://www.chr.org.uk/anddidthosefeet/january-22-22-time-to-mull-it-over/
I also didn't tell you Monday was Blue Monday because I had already sent you one post on the 20th. So this is the Blue Monday Post. https://www.chr.org.uk/anddidthosefeet/january-13th-18th-blue-monday-wolf-moon-start-of-lambing-and-twelfth-night-old-style/
January from Nicholas Breton’s ‘Fantasticks 1626 from the Kalendar of Shepherds (digitised by Internet Archive)
The Kalendar of Shepherds was printed in 1493 in Paris and provided ‘Devices for the 12 Months.’ I use a modern (1908) reconstruction of it using wood cuts from the original French and adding various text from English 16th and 17th Century sources. The text of the month (as shown above) is provided from a 17th Century source. It gives an interesting view of the countryside in January. To see the full Kalendar, look here:
Nicholas Breton, the writer of the text above, concludes that January:
‘is a time of little comfort, the rich man’s charge, and the poore man’s misery.’
The rich man is burdened by having to help out all the poor people who depending upon him to get through the shortages of winter. The image for January shows that January is best spent indoors by a roaring fire, eating pies.
The Kalendar introduces a ‘conceit’ which is that the year mirrors our lives, and we can forecast what will happen in our lives by looking at the months.
Kalendar of Shepherds, January text
So our lives, which are of 72 years, can be divided into 12 ages of man, each of 6 years. So, January represents the first 6 years of a person’s life. And as you can see, that during these first 6 years, the child is ‘without witte, strength, or cunning, and may do nothing that profiteth‘. As the year changes every month, so, ‘a man change himself twelve times in his life’. At three times 6 (18 or March) a child becomes a man, and 6 times 6 (36 or June) man is at his best and highest. And at 12 times 6 (72 or December) man is at the end of his allotted span.
Shakespeare numbered the Ages of Man as seven, in the great speech of Jacques in ‘As You Like it’ I dealt with this and other Ages of the World in my post:
Bereton tells us that, in January, the ‘coney is so ferreted that she cannot keep in her borough’. To put that is modern speech, ‘the rabbit is so hunted with the aid of ferrets that she cannot keep in her burrow’. The London Illustrated Almanac of 1873 chose the Rabbit as its wild animal of the month.
January from London Illustrated Almanac of 1873
To have luck for a month, you are supposed to say ‘Rabbit, Rabbit’. No less a person than FD Roosevelt used to say this. No one knows why. Rabbit’s feet are lucky too. I remember some of my friends had them in our Surrey village in the early 60s. Some of Dad’s nieghbours kept ferrets, and I remember dead Rabbits hanging from walls. The history.com website gives an idea, possibly exaggerated view, of the merits of the feet which depended upon how they were collected:
“A 1908 British account reports rabbits’ feet imported from America being advertised as ‘the left hind foot of a rabbit killed in a country churchyard at midnight, during the dark of the moon, on Friday the 13th of the month, by a cross-eyed, left-handed, red-headed bow-legged Negro riding a white horse,’
As to why, no one really knows. But Pliny the Elder in 71AD reported that cutting off the foot of a live hare could cure gout. There are European traditions of rabbit and other animal’s feet amulets curing all sorts of ailments. There are associations with witches, who could shape-shift into a rabbit. So a rabbit’s foot would be witchy and therefore powerful. In March, I reported on the Hare, and their, similar, associations with witches:
For lovers of Music, Chas and Dave’s hit song ‘Rabbit’ has a chorus of ‘Rabbit, Rabbit’.According to the Cockney’s singers (they do love a Knee’s Up) it comes from the Cockney Rhyming Slang expression: Rabbit and Pork. This means ‘Talk’ because it rhymes with ‘Talk’. To hear the song, its gestation and Royal connections, click here.
Now, I must stop rabbiting on. Time to get things done.
First, published in 2023, revised in January 2024, 2025
Please leave me a comment – its great to hear what you think.