As the Sun enters the House of Capricorn remember the poor Coachman travelling all day everyday in all weathers. Washington Irving in his ‘Old Christmas’ (Originally ‘The Sketch Book of Geoffrey Crayon’ pub. 1819) describes him with a broad red face, a broad body widened by drinking beer; swathed with any numbers of layers of coats trying to keep the cold out. He has many worries on his mind as he has a coach full not only of people who need looking after but also a lot of parcels and commissions that need to be carried out in the many stops along the way. He is delivering parcels, turkeys, geese, presents, children, you name it he is responsible for its safe delivery.
Feel sorry for the people crowded inside the carriage but even sorrier for those sitting on the roof. They have umbrellas in a vain attempt to keep dry, but the umbrella tines will be poking you in your ear, and the run off from the canopy of the umbrella might trickle down your neck. There might be 6 people inside and up to 10 on the roof. 3d for travelling inside and half of that for the roof. voach
Inside, you are next to a large man who is not very salubrious looking, nor too worried about pressing his thighs against you.
John Keats blamed his consumption on his journey on the roof of a stage-coach travelling from London to Hampstead on a cold wet day in February.
Stage coaches became regular sights on the road during the 17th Century and were quite dangerous as the roads were in such a poor condition. It was suggested that passengers made their wills before travelling! From the late 17th and with Parliament increasingly used to set up not-for-profit toll road, the roads got better, and ‘Flyers’ and mail coaches could get up to the tremendous speed of 10 miles an hour, and averaging 7. This happened because improved roads meant improved suspensions, and wheels, and more and faster horses could be harnessed.
This revolutionized travel. It used to take 5 days in around 1700 to get to Manchester from London, by the mid 18th Century the time taken was reduced to 24 hours, and there were many more scheduled coaches, The mail coaches had priority, the coach had a blunderbuss and two pistols to deter highway men, and the guard had a post-horn with which to warn other vehicles to give clear passage, to alert tollgate keepers to open gates, and to announce arrival at a stop. Extra horses would be harnessed to help get up steep hills which, in some cases, like Broadway in the Cotswolds, might mean an additional 10 horses. Passengers might be asked not only to get off the coach to lighten the load but also to push if the going got boggy. On mail coaches, the passengers were not allowed to get off when the horses were changed, and only 4 were allowed inside the coach.
London was ringed by Coaching Inns, which were coach terminals and hotels. The most famous ones, remaining, are in Southwark on the approach road to London Bridge. The Tabard where the Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales started, The White Hart where Dickens’ Sam Wheeler is the Bootboy, and the George, which although not quite so literary is at least still half intact.
Pilgrims leaving the Tabard Inn for the Canterbury PilgrimageGeorge Inn,Southwark (photo Kevin Flude)
Capricorn
‘The man born under Capricorn shall be iracundious and a fornicator; a liar, and always labouring.
....The woman shall be honest and fearful, and have children of three men, she will do many pilgrimages in her youth and after have great wit.’
From Kalendar of Shepheards 1604 quoted in ‘The Perpetual Almanac of Folklore by Charles Kightly’.
iracundious is first mentioned in a work published by Caxton in the 15th Century and pretty much obselete by the 17th Century. It means easily angered or irritable.
The Solstice and the East Pediment of the Parthenon
British Museum Shop, reproductions of Hestia and Selene’s Horse from the Parthenon Marbles
At the Summer Solstice, I took a group to the British Museum and, a few days later, to Stonehenge, and managed to ‘integrate’ the two into a solstice narrative. At the BM, over years of trying to explain the sculptures, I have been building in my mind an interpretation of the Pediment that gives, I hope, an original insight into the possible intentions of the sculptors. I don’t know how ‘true’ it is, but I do think it gives an insight into metaphor and symbolism in great works of art. Bear in mind that there is a lot of uncertainty about some of the attributions, and, that the male and female virtues that I am talking about are traditional ones, not necessarily how we would express it in the modern world.
At the left of the above photography, you see the horses that take Helios chariot into the sky to bring up the sun to light the world every day. Most sun deities are male, and the Sun gives light and life to the world, without it this earth is an inert block of ice cold stone. The next statue is casually laying back and looking fit, relaxed and not looking as if he is in that position because of the impossible triangular Pediment space he inhabits. He is the epitome of male strength, usually identified with Hercules but other people have other ideas and a young Dionysus is another suggestion. Whoever he is he represents male beauty and strength. So this end of the pediment represents the Sun and male virtues. This is the East Pediment of the Parthenon which is orientated to the rising sun, a little north of east.
Next are Demeter, the goddess of fertility, the goddess of the earth. Placed here to remind us that the Sun needs the Earth to create life and sustenance. It reminds us that the universe is not male, the male only works in conjunction with the female. Demeter is cuddling her daughter Persephone, the Goddess of Hades. She reminds us that life is a cycle of death and life. Plants die, turn into soil and create the conditions for future life.
Next is Hebe, daughter of Zeus and Hera, wife of Heracles (Hercules). She is the cupbearer to the Gods and gives them the ambrosia that keeps them forever young. She is the Goddess of Immortality, a reminder that the universe is eternal.
Next to Hebe is a void where there was the central statue of the east pediment depicting the Birth of Athena (according to Pausanias who wrote a guide in the 2nd Century BC to the Temple). Athena was born from the head of her father Zeus- a virgin birth. Athena therefore is, in some ways, the greatest of the Olympians, as she has the virtues of her female sex and the virtues of her father’s masculinity (and, dear Gods, hopefully not the massive ‘Me Too’ vices of her father). She is therefore, wise, nurturing, just, intuitive, decisive, a leader; an ideal combination of male and female.
Zeus (sitting) Hephastus to right (looking back with Axe) Athena just visible above Zeus’s head
So Zeus eats Athena’s mum, Metis, who is pregnant with her. Sometime later he has a cracking headache. Hephaestus, the disabled artificer God hits Zeus over the head to clear the headache. Zeus gives birth to a fully formed Athena from the split in his head. She was known as Athena Parthenos, Athena the Virgin. Her name is originally Athene but it got changed to Athena in 500 BC.
Hestia, Dione, Aphrodite, Horse of Selene’s chariot
To Athene’s left is Hestia (Vesta for the Romans). Her name means “hearth, fireplace, altar” and she is the goddess of the domestic sphere, of the comforts of home, of a warm fire enjoyed by a loving family.
The next set are two beautifully draped women languidly leaning on each other, and these are Dione, with her daughter Aphrodite – the Goddess of Love. Dione is the daughter of Gaia and Uranus daughter of earth and sky. So, here, counterpoised to Hercules, are epitomes of women. Women of power, creation, and love.
Finally, we have the exhausted horse of Selene. Her chariot takes the moon into the sky, positioned opposite to Helios and the Sun. Selene is the Moon goddess, and the Moon is beautiful, powerful as it gives us the tides and fundamental to the life of humans as she presides over the menstrual cycle. Compared to the movements of the Sun which any fool can work out, and which are relentless (symbolising Justice) the movements of the Moon are mysterious to most of us. So Selene is beautiful, powerful, creative and the Goddess of Intuition.
So, if you put it all together, the East Pediment of the Parthenon shows that the world is a union of the male and the female, balanced between the two with Zeus and Athene in the middle, with Athene holding the main part because she, in her person, represents both the male and the female.
Of course, we know that the Athenian society was a patriarchal one with women mostly kept in the domestic sphere. But here, at least, women were given an equal billing in the organisation of the Cosmos.
Sculptures from the east pediment of the Parthenon
I must end by warning the reader that this is only my interpretation. I am not a scholar of Ancient Greece. I have come to my own conclusion based on spending a lot of time looking at the marbles, doing Solstice Virtual Tours, and mostly informed by the labels in the gallery, with of course, some reading including Mary Beard’s book entitled ‘Parthenon’ and the BM’s guidebook. In particular, I have not incorporated into my ‘story’ the sculptures that were in the gaps that do not survive or only in fragments scattered throughout the Museum world. Mary Beard was cleverer than I, not reaching conclusions on the basis that we don’t know. But what we do know is that in the centre is Zeus and Athene and at the edges are the chariots of the Sun and the Moon. And so fitting to celebrate the Solstice.
Fanny Austen Knight was the daughter of Jane Austen’s rich older brother Edward. He, rather strangely to our modern minds, was adopted by distant relatives who were childless. ‘Hey! We have enough boys to be going on with – happy for you to take one, particularly as you own two stately homes!’ as Mr and Mrs George Austen probably never said.
One of those homes was Godmersham Park in Kent, the other was in Chawton, a lovely Hampshire Village where Jane, Cassandra and Mum Cassandra lived, and is now a Museum dedicated to Jane Austen.
Fanny also rather cruelly remembers Jane and Cassandra as being unfashionably dressed and not up with upper-class etiquette. She wrote this when she was an old woman. When she was a teenager and being well brought up she wrote letters to friends of the family and relatyives, and here are extracts from her Christmas letters.
1811 to 1812 Fanny writing to a friend, Miss Dorothy Chapman
‘I don’t know whether I told you that Ms Morris’s are at home for the Christmas holidays. They are very nice girls and have contributed a good deal to our entertainment. None of us caught the whooping cough and have been very well the whole time. We have, in general, had cards, snapdragons, bullet pudding etc on any particular evening and Whist, Commerce and others and tickets were the favourite games. I think when cards fail the boys played every evening at draughts, chess, and backgammon.‘
Commerce is a three card poker type game played with counters. Tickets was Lydia Bennett’s favourite game, which is a gambling game based on luck, and in Pride and Prejudice called ‘Lottery Tickets.’
Bullet Pudding is explained by Fanny in another letter
‘You must have a large pewter dish filled with flour which you must pile up into a sort of pudding with a peak at the top, you must then lay a Bullet at the top & everybody cuts a slice of it & the person who is cutting it when the Bullet falls must poke about with their noise & chins until they find it & then take it out with their mouths which makes them strange figures all covered with flour, but the worst is that you must not laugh for fear of the flour getting up your nose & mouth & choking you. You must not use your hands in taking the bullet out.’
I used to play this as a child at Christmas. We used a coin not a bullet. The contestants walk around the table with the flour pudding on which has a knife ready for cutting the pudding. The Music plays and when it stops the one the knife is pointing at cuts a slice of the flour hoping not to make the flour collapse and the coin fall. Snapdragons is a lively game, you put some brandy in a tray or flat dish, add a few raisins, light the brandy and the game is to pick up and eat the raisins without getting burnt!
Other games mentioned by Fanny
Hunt the Slipper, Oranges and Lemons, Wind the Jack; Lighting a Candle in Haste; Spare Old Noll.
Eventually, the coin will collapse, and the hapless winner, according to Jane’s niece, Fanny.
‘must poke about with their noise & chins until they find it & then take it out with their mouths, which makes them strange figures all covered with flour, but the worst is that you must not laugh for fear of the flour getting up your nose & mouth & choking you. You must not use your hands in taking the bullet out.’
In my family, we pushed the winner’s head into the flour to maximise the fun.
Another niece Anna received Jane Austen’s advice on writing a novel:
‘You are now collecting your people delightfully, getting them exactly into such a spot as is the delight of my life. Three or four families in a country village is the very thing to work on, and I hope you will do a great deal more, and make full use of them while they are so very favourably arranged.’
Jane Austen Virtual Tours Coming up!
Jane Austen’s ‘A Picture of London in 1809’ Virtual Walk
7.30 27th January 2025
With the help of a contemporary Guide Book, Jane Austen’s letters, and works we explore London in 1809
So, the old Sun is dying, and if the Sun keeps going down we are all going to die. To keep our anxiety to a minimum with all of nature seeming to be dying or hibernating, evergreens are a symbol of a promise/proof that life will continue through the dark days. So, with its bright-green leaves and its luminous berries, Holly is the ideal evergreen for the Solstice. And as the prickles symbolise Christ’s Crown of Thorns, and the berries the red blood of Jesus, the symbolism works, too, for Christians.
‘Ivy’ says Culpeper in his Herbal of 1653, says its winter-ripening berries are useful to drink before you ‘set to drink hard’ because it will ‘preserve from drunkenness’. And, moreover, the leaves (bruised and boiled) and dropped into the same wine you had a ‘surfeit’ of the night before provides the ‘speediest cure’. (The Perpetual Almanac of Charles Kightly)
Henry Mayhew (editor of Punch) in his ‘London Labour and London Poor’ (1851–62) talks of Christmasing for Laurel, Ivy, Holly, and Mistletoe. He calculated that 250,000 branches of Holly were purchased from street coster mongers every Christmas. He says that every housekeeper will expend something from 2d to 1s 6d, while the poor buy a pennyworth or halfpennyworth each. He says that every room will have the cheery decoration of holly. St Pauls Cathedral would take 50 to a 100 shillings worth.
He also calculates that 100,000 plum puddings are eaten. Mistletoe he believes is less often used than it used to be, and he hopes that ‘No Popery’ campaigners will not attack Christmassing again.
Hot plum pudding seller from Sam Syntax Cries of London, 1820s from the Gentle Author Spitalfields Life website
Culpeper on Ivy (1814 edition):
It is so well known to every child almost, to grow in woods upon the trees, and upon the stone walls of churches, houses, &c. and sometimes to grow alone of itself, though but seldom.
Time. It flowers not until July, and the berries are not ripe until Christmas, when they have felt Winter frosts.
Government and virtues. It is under the dominion of Saturn. A pugil of the flowers, which may be about a dram, (saith Dioscorides) drank twice a day in red wine, helps the lask, and bloody flux. It is an enemy to the nerves and sinews, being much taken inwardly, out very helpful to them, being outwardly applied. Pliny saith, the yellow berries are good against the jaundice; and taken before one be set to drink hard, preserves from drunkenness, and helps those that spit blood; and that the white berries being taken inwardly, or applied outwardly, kills the worms in the belly. The berries are a singular remedy to prevent the plague, as also to free them from it that have got it, by drinking the berries thereof made into a powder, for two or three days together. They being taken in wine, do certainly help to break the stone, provoke urine, and women’s courses. The fresh leaves of Ivy, boiled in vinegar, and applied warm to the sides of those that are troubled with the spleen, ache, or stitch in the sides, do give much ease. The same applied with some Rosewater, and oil of Roses, to the temples and forehead, eases the head-ache, though it be of long continuance. The fresh leaves boiled in wine, and old filthy ulcers hard to be cured washed therewith, do wonderfully help to cleanse them. It also quickly heals green wounds, and is effectual to heal all burnings and scaldings, and all kinds of exulcerations coming thereby, or by salt phlegm or humours in other parts of the body. The juice of the berries or leaves snuffed up into the nose, purges the head and brain of thin rheum that makes defluxions into the eyes and nose, and curing the ulcers and stench therein; the same dropped into the ears helps the old and running sores of them; those that are troubled with the spleen shall find much ease by continual drinking out of a cup made of Ivy, so as the drink may stand some small time therein before it be drank. Cato saith, That wine put into such a cup, will soak through it, by reason of the antipathy that is between them.
There seems to be a very great antipathy between wine and Ivy; for if one hath got a surfeit by drinking of wine, his speediest cure is to drink a draught of the same wine wherein a handful of Ivy leaves, being first bruised, have been boiled.
Happy Eponalia
Roman Horse from Bunwell, Norfolk. Illustration by Sue Walker.
In 2021 I posted about Eponalia for the 18th Dec but I have now added it here and this is what I said:
I’ve been too busy working on my Jane Austen and Christmas Virtual Tour (I have just done that again this year) to post over the last few days. And I have, therefore, shamelessly stolen this post off my Facebook friend Sue Walker, who is a talented archaeological illustrator, artist and a very good photographer.
She wrote: ‘the 18th December is the festival of the Celtic goddess Epona, the protector of horses, she was adopted by the Romans and became a favourite with the cavalry. This finely sculpted bronze horse with a head dress and symbol on its chest is 37mm high – found in Bunwell #Norfolk #Archaeology’
Trotty Veck 1889 Dickens The Chimes by Kyd (Joseph Clayton Clarke)
As Christmas looms, seasonal publications have a mixture of wonder and joy at the coming family reunions and festivities mingled with an awareness that, for some, Christmas will depend on the Food Bank or the Charity Shelter. The weather is now cold, living costs continue to rise at the very time extra spending is needed to unlock the joy of the Season, and to counter the dark, the cold and the spectre of death which, in fact, has always been central to the season of winter.
Charles Dickens’ Christmas Books epitomise this dichotomy and adding an element of the supernatural, provided a vehicle for joy and hope, but with a forceful political message that the authorities and the rich were not doing their Christian duty to alleviate poverty. Christmas Carol contrasts the wealth of a mean rich Stockbroker with the family of his poor employee Bob Cratchit, and provides a powerful tale of redemption.
But in this post I want to concentrate on his second Christmas Book, ‘The Chimes’. It was published on December 16th, 1844. It tells the story of the stick-thin Trotty Veck who is an aged City messenger, nicknamed Trotty because of his habit of keeping himself warm by running on the spot. He is afraid to let his daughter, Meg, to marry as he has so little hope for the future. While he is worrying, he, Meg and her intended Richard are approached by Alderman Cute and Mr Filer.
Cute represents the financial industries in the City of London and the Law. Filer the new breed of political economists. These, working with the idea of Malthus and the new science of Statistics, had proved, that generous support for the poor would, inevitably, lead to a country full of poor people and no rich people. And thus, they justified the Poor Law Amendment Act of 1832 which Dickens observed as a Parliamentary reporter (1831-1834). This set up the cruel Workhouse system which provided the lowest possible level of support offering separation from family, meagre food, and sparse comforts to encourage them to stop being lazy and get back out there to earn their own living and allow taxes to fall. (brilliantly satirised by Dickens’ Oliver Twist, asking for ‘More’).
Meg, Richard, Mr Filer, Gentleman, Alderman Cute and Trotty Veck. Probably located by the door of St Nicholas, Colechurch, City of London.
Below, I enclose the scene from the Chimes, which satirises the attitude of the governing classes.
‘And you’re making love to her, are you?’ said Cute to the young smith.
‘Yes,’ returned Richard quickly, for he was nettled by the question.
‘And we are going to be married on New Year’s Day.’
‘What do you mean!’ cried Filer sharply?Enough ‘Married!’
‘Why, yes, we’re thinking of it, Master,’ said Richard. ‘We’re rather in a hurry, you see, in case it should be Put Down first.’
‘Ah!’ cried Filer, with a groan. ‘Put that down indeed, Alderman, and you’ll do something. Married! Married!! The ignorance of the first principles of political economy on the part of these people; their improvidence; their wickedness; is, by Heavens! enough to—Now look at that couple, will you!’
...
‘A man may live to be as old as Methuselah,’ said Mr. Filer, ‘and may
labour all his life for the benefit of such people as those; and may heap up facts on figures, facts on figures, facts on figures, mountains high and dry; and he can no more hope to persuade ’em that they have no right or business to be married, than he can hope to persuade ’em that they have no earthly right or business to be born. And that we know they haven’t. We reduced it to a mathematical certainty long ago!’
Alderman Cute was mightily diverted, and laid his right forefinger on the side of his nose, as much as to say to both his friends, ‘Observe me, will you! Keep your eye on the practical man!’—and called Meg to him.
...
‘Now, I’m going to give you a word or two of good advice, my girl,’ said the Alderman, in his nice easy way. ‘It’s my place to give advice, you know, because I’m a Justice. ...
‘You are going to be married, you say,’ pursued the Alderman. ‘Very
unbecoming and indelicate in one of your sex! But never mind that.
After you are married, you’ll quarrel with your husband and come to be a distressed wife. You may think not; but you will, because I tell you so. Now, I give you fair warning, that I have made up my mind to Put distressed wives Down. So, don’t be brought before me.
You’ll have children—boys. Those boys will grow up bad, of course, and run wild in the streets, without shoes and stockings. Mind, my young friend! I’ll convict ’em summarily, every one, for I am determined to Put boys without shoes and stockings, Down. Perhaps your husband will die young (most likely) and leave you with a baby. Then you’ll be turned out of doors, and wander up and down the streets. Now, don’t wander near me, my dear, for I am resolved, to Put all wandering mothers Down. All young mothers,of all sorts and kinds, it’s my determination to Put Down. Don’t think
to plead illness as an excuse with me; or babies as an excuse with me;
for all sick persons and young children (I hope you know the
church-service, but I’m afraid not) I am determined to Put Down.
And if you attempt, desperately, and ungratefully, and impiously, and
fraudulently attempt, to drown yourself, or hang yourself, I’ll have no pity for you, for I have made up my mind to Put all suicide Down! If there is one thing,’ said the Alderman, with his self-satisfied smile, ‘on which I can be said to have made up my mind more than on another, it is to Put suicide Down. So don’t try it on. That’s the phrase, isn’t it? Ha, ha! now we understand each other.’
Project Gutenberg - The Chimes by Charles Dickens
It is a savage burlesque of a satire but at its core, Filer provides the economic/statistical justification. Cute enforces it by legal harassment of the poor. Dickens was writing after a recent introduction of legislation making suicide a punishable offence.
This has a contemporary resonance. During my lifetime, the first British Government to be cruel in its provision, in my opinion, for the poor was Teresa May’s Conservative Government. Her laws made getting help so difficult that people died as a result of the deliberately difficult system. ‘I, Daniel Blake’ a 2016 film by Ken Loach brilliantly captured the essence of this system. That government’s treatment of the Windrush generation was a similar example of bureaucratic cruelty. And the continual decline of the benefit system over the 14 years of Conservative Government meant that the poor have borne the brunt of austerity.
The piece above reminds us what a brilliant propagandist Dickens was. Every generation of children, since he wrote Christmas Carol, has read it or seen it in popular retellings such as The Muppet Movie. I think it could be argued that the ‘More’ scene in Oliver Twist and the Christmas Carol have made the case for compassionate care and redemption far better than contemporary Christianity or political parties.
In the Chimes. these two men discourage Trotty from letting the young ones marry. He has a dream and sees the hopeless result of his decision: suicide, prostitution, crime. When he wakes up, he realises that what they do have is hope. Hope springs eternal and he lets them marry.
For more on this scene, have a look at the Victorian Web
Dickens was not a socialist. ‘Hard Times’ shows that Dickens was against strikes, despite leading a strike when he was a young newspaper man. He was a free trade Liberal; a reformer who believed that the rich needed to do their Christian duty and provide charitable support, pay decent wages and look after their dependents and servants. He thought society should care less about the dogma of Christianity but look to its essence, ‘love your neighbour like yourself’. This, alone, was sufficient to right the wrongs caused by the selfish.
First Published on December 16th 2022, republished and revised in December 2023, 2024
So, yesterday, you, being someone worried about your eyes, might have sought out an altar dedicated to St Lucy, the patron saint of eye health. (see December 13th’s Post on St Lucy) Although you may be disappointed that there has been no miraculous cure, you might have been encouraged to do something about it. So that’s what this post is about.
Cataract operations have been carried out since 800 BC using a method called ‘couching’.
This was a last resort when the cataract was opaque and the patients nearly blind. It would mean they would need very thick lenses to see well again but, crude as it seems, it worked. But the operation, without anaesthetics must have been a considerable ordeal, and the recovery (still required today for those suffering from a displaced retina) means that the patient has to lie on their back for a week with supports on either side of the head to prevent movement. Of course, there was also a serious risk of infection, so prophylactic visits to a chapel of St Lucy would be called for.
The modern system was established in the 1940s and offers a great solution in 15 minutes surgery. Currently, the NHS has been having trouble dealing with all the cases required, (6% of surgery is for cataract operations. Before COVID-19, there was some talk about cataracts being, in practice, not readily available on the NHS. The waiting time is supposed to be 18 weeks but, for example, at NHS Chesterfield Royal Hospital the waiting time approaches almost 10 months. But waiting times vary from 10 weeks to over a year.
Pink Eye
The Perpetual Calendar of Folklore by Charles Kightly has dug up some other folk cures of interest.
For the redness of eyes, or bloodshot. Take red wine, rosewater, and women’s milk, and mingle all these together: and put a piece of wheaten bread leavened, as much as will cover the eye, and lay it in the mixture. When you go to bed, lay the bread upon your eyes calmer and it will help them.
Fairfax Household book, 17th/ 18th century.
There are many household books still, existing, which show that much of medical practice was carried out in the home, and that men and women, more often women, actively not only collected useful recipes and cures, but also tested them out and improved them.
As a matter of curiosity, there is a significant document found at the Roman Fort of Vindolanda which lists the troops of the Cohort in occupation, which notes that of the garrison of 750, 474 are absent with 276 in the fort of which 38 are sick, 10 with ‘pink eye’, probably conjunctivitis
Prevention is better than cure
Things hurtful to the eyes. Garlic, onions, radish, drunkenness, lechery, sweet wines, salt meats, coleworts, dust, smoke, and reading presently after supper.
Good for the eyes. fennel, celandine, eyebright, vervain, roses, cloves and cold water.
Whites Almanack 1627
Looking through Samuel Pepys’s eye
You will note, above, that it was considered bad for the eyes to read in low light. It is a myth and not true. Samuel Pepys was continually worried about his reading and writing habits ruining his eyesight. This is an extract from the poignant last entry in his famous diary:
And thus ends all that I doubt I should ever be able to do with my own eyes in the keeping of my journal, I being not able to do it any longer, having done now so long as to undo my eyes almost every time that I take a pen in my hand; and therefore, whatever comes of it, I must forbear: and therefore resolve from this time forward to have it kept by my people in long-hand. I must be consented to sit down no more than is fit for them and all the world to know; or, if they be anything, which cannot be much now my amores are past and my eyes hindering me almost all other pleasures. I must endeavour to keep a margin in my book open, to add, here and there, a note in shorthand with my own hand.
Samuel Pepys Diary, May 31st
The sad thing is that Pepys had another 38 years before he went blind, and what glorious diary entries have we missed because of his false fears of the effect of eye strain.
St Lucy
There are only two churches in the UK dedicated to St Lucy or St Lucia. One run by the National Trust in Upton Magna, Shropshire, but there must have been a few chapels in Cathedrals and Abbeys dedicated to her.
Saint Lucy, by Francesco del Cossa (c. 1430 – c. 1477) (Wikipedia User:Postdlf)
The name Lucy is from the same Latin origin (Lucidus) as lucent, lux, and lucid. It means to be bright, to shine or be clear. It is similar to the Ancient Greek λευκός (leukós, “white, blank, light, bright, clear”. Luke has the same origins (bright one, bringer of light and light of the sacred flame) and is very appropriate for the most literate of the evangelists.
I am just noticing how dim the daylight is even before noon. So, at this time of the year, we are in need of a festival with bright lights to cheer us up! And St Lucy’s Day is the beginning of the winter festival that culminates with the Solstice, where the old sun dies, and the new one is born. December the 13th was the Solstice until Pope Gregory reformed the Calendar in the 16th Century, as nine days were lopped off the year of transition.
The festival of Sankta Lucia is particularly popular in Sweden, where Dec 13th is thought to be the darkest night. In recent years, the Swedish community in the UK has had a service to Lucia in St Pauls. But this year it is in Westminster Cathedral. But as usual, it is sold out by the time I get around to thinking of going!
St Stephens Church by Christopher Wren (Photo K Flude) a rare view during building work.
I found out about Sankta Lucia from a Swedish choir who hired me to do a tour of the City of London some years ago. I took them into Christopher Wren’s marvellous St Stephen’s Church and, under the magnificent Dome, they fancied the acoustics and spontaneously sang. I recorded a snatch of it, which you can hear below
Swedish Choir singing in St Stephen’s London St Stephens Church at night by Christopher Wren (Photo K Flude)
Watch the procession in St Pauls on youtube below.
Sankta Lucia at St Paul’s Cathedral (2011)
Recent medical research has shown the importance of light, not only to our mental health but to our sleep health, and recommends that work places have a decent light level with ‘blue light’ as a component of the lighting. It is also an excellent idea to help your circadian rhymes by going for a morning walk, or morning sun bathing, even on cloudy days.
St Lucy is from Syracuse in Sicily, said to be a victim of the Diocletian Persecution of Christians in the early 4th Century. She is an authentic early martyr, although details of her story cannot be relied upon as true. She was said to be a virgin, who was denounced as a Christian by her rejected suitor, miraculously saved from serving in a brothel, then, destruction by fire, but did not escape having her eyes gouged out. Finally, her throat was cut with a sword. Her connection to light (and the eye gouging) makes her the protectress against eye disease, and she is often shown holding two eyes as you can see above. Other symbols include a palm branch which represents martyrdom and victory over evil She can also be seen with lamp, dagger, sword or two oxen. She appears in Dante’s Divine Comedy, as the messenger to Beatrice whose job is to get Virgil to help Dante explore Heaven, Hell and Heaven. Beatrice takes over as the guide around Paradise because Virgil is a pagan and so cannot enter it.
St. Aldhelm (died in 709) puts St Lucy in the list of the main venerated saints of the early English Church, confirmed by the Venerable Bede (died in 735). Her festival was an important one in England ‘as a holy day of the second rank in which no work but tillage or the like was allowed’.
First Posted on December 13th, 2022, updated on December 13th 2023 and 2024
The Great Bookcase by William Burges Ashmolean Museum (Photo K. Flude)
The Ashmolean posts, every year, an online Advent Calendar with gorgeous items behind each ‘flap’. The choice seems to be, mostly, a random selection. But their collection is so wonderful, they are all interesting. Last year, December 12th’s choice was a netsuke; the year before the Singing Pierides painted by Henry Stacy Marks which you can see on the bottom of the Great Bookcase by William Burges (above).
The Nuragic culture in Sardinian is not well known. They lived in round towers called nuraghe, which are a little like the Brochs of Scotland, and they created these marvellous bronze statuettes which give a real insight into life in the Bronze Age. They were around during the time of the Mycenaean Culture in Greece. But their origins and indeed their history are argued about. They may be part of the ‘Sea People’ who brought the end to the Bronze Age cultures of the Eastern Mediterranean or they may not.
Here, in Britain, the Bronze Age is dominated by discussions of henges, barrows, metal axes and swords. But with very little sense of what life was like to live in those days. However, go to the Cagliari Museum and look at these wonderful statues, and it becomes possible to picture the people. Particularly with a copy of ‘Il Popolo di bronzo’ by Angela Demontis to hand. It is a catalogue of Nuragi statures with interpretative drawings. It really bring the people to life depicted in the statues. They are mostly warriors, but there are also people who seem to have more normal trades such as shepherd and baker.
Here is my slight adaption of one of the drawings
A sketch drawing of a Nuragi sculpture derived from ‘Il Popolo di bronzo’ by Angela Demontis
What you can see is some detail of the clothes and the knife belt around the torso and under the cloak, and a living person appears before you, not just a lump of bronze. Wikipedia has a long article on the nuragic culture and you can see some of the bronzes here.
On December 12th 2022, the Advent calendar, which you can access here, highlighted the Great Bookcase by William Burgess and in particular the paintings above which are the Singing Pierides painted by Henry Stacy Marks. The Pierides, were a sort of classical Greek Von Trapp singers, 9 daughters who foolishly challenged the Muses to a singing competition. Of course, the Goddesses of the Arts — the Muses won and had the Pierides turned into songbirds as a warning to all those who overrate their own talents! Watch out all you karaoke singers the Goddesses may have you in their sights!
‘Whenever the daughters of Pierus began to sing, all creation went dark and no one would give an ear to their choral performance. But when the Muses sang, heaven, the stars, the sea and rivers stood still, while Mount Helicon, beguiled by the pleasure of it all, swelled skywards tilI, by the will of Poseidon, Pegasus checked it by striking the summit with his hoof.
Since these mortals had taken upon themselves to strive with goddesses, the Muses changed them into nine birds. To this day people refer to them as the grebe, the wryneck, the ortolan, the jay, the greenfinch, the goldfinch, the duck, the woodpecker and the dracontis pigeon.’
The bookcase by William Burges was originally displayed as the centre point of the ‘Medieval Court’ of the 1862 International Exhibition. The Exhibition was almost as successful as the more famous Great Exhibition of 1851. Both got about 6m visitors. The 1862 Exhibition was just south of the site of the 1851 (on the south side of Hyde Park) and in the Royal Horticultural Society’s gardens (now the Science and Natural History Museum).
Burges is one of the great Gothic Revival architects and a designer in the Arts & Crafts Movement with an affinity for Pre-Raphaelite painters, 14 of whom he asked to paint panels on his bookcase. The decorative scheme was to represent the Pagan and Christian Arts (Museum label).
Originally written for December 12, 2022, revised and republished December 2023, and the Nuragi added in 2024
Tombstone of Philus from Corinium DobunnorumWinter from Ostia AnticaMosaic from Lullingstone Villa, Kent, representing winter.
According to my Goddess Book of Days, December 11th is dedicated to Bruma the Roman Goddess of Winter. However, I’m not having much luck tracking her down. Elsewhere, I find reference to a Greek or Roman festival of Winter called Brumalia which, according to some, starts in late November and is normally said to end on the 25th December, the Roman Solstice. But, only the Goddess Book of Days has it on December 11th.
Cover of the Goddess Book of days
However, there is good evidence for such a festival in the Byzantine World.
So, let’s imagine a Winter Goddess beginning her reign on November 24th. Then, Saturnalia took place from 17th – 24th December and the climax of the reign of the Winter Goddess was Brumalia on the 25th December.
By the way, December 25th was fixed by Aurelian in 274 AD as the day to celebrate Sol Invictus, the Unconquered Sun, the pre-Christian Roman attempt to have a monotheistic element to their religion. Mithras and other Gods were also celebrated on December 25th.
Underlying this confusion of dates is the difficulty of aligning the solar year to the calendar year, and in the Roman period it was all over the place until Julius Caesar fixed the Calendar. (for more on that see my post here)
Roman Hoodie
The picture of the tombstone, above, comes from Cirencester, and the inscription says:
Philus, son of Cassavus, a Sequanian, aged 45, lies buried here.
For details look at the ‘Roman Inscriptions of Britain.org’ here:
The Sequani were from the upper Saône Valley, near Besançon. His cloak is very interesting, and this type of hoodie has been found in other contexts of Roman Britain, for example, on a mosaic at Chedworth. The garment was called the Birrus Britannicus and was famous throughout the Empire. It was a hunting cloak and made of wool. The Cotswold wool was also famous in medieval Europe, and the Cotswold Lion sheep were introduced during the Roman period. The large number of rich Roman villas in the area suggest that the wool made the local economy strong, and. I imagine the birrus to be a sort of ‘thorn proof’ woollen garment that was warm, rugged, and waterproof. Britain was also renowned for the export of hunting dogs and slaves.
The British Hoodie, Inflation and Reorganisation of the Roman World
In AD 301, the emperor Diocletian issued his Edict of Maximum Prices. In it, the Emperor rages against inflation:
Greed raves and burns and sets no limit on itself. Without regard for the human race, it rushes to increase and augment itself, not by years or months or else days, but almost by hours and very moments. Diocletian Maximum Prices Edict(click here for Pdf)
The Edict then lists maximum wages and prices. The birrus listing says that the Tailor,
‘cutting and finishing a hooded cloak (birrus) of the finest quality shall have a maximum wage of 60 denarii. ‘
The sanctions against breaking the Edict were terrifying, suggesting the difficulty of enforcement was compensated for by extreme punishment. Diocletian also insisted that labour shortages were addressed by making children follow the same profession as fathers. Interesting how familiar this rampaging inflation and severe staff shortages seems to a post-Covid-post-Brexit-Ukrainian-War-governed-by-an-out-of-touch-elite Britain. (Not quite so relevant now inflation is lower?).
Diocletian was obviously a very logical man, looking for structural fixes to society’s problems. His analysis of the Roman Empire and its frequent Civil Wars/Coup D’Etats/Usurpers was that there was a deficiency in the career ladder for megalomaniacs and so to stop them usurping the Emperorship, he set up a rational career progression and divided up the Empire as follows:
1 Augustus for the Eastern (Greek speaking) Empire 1 Augustus for the Western (Latin speaking) Empire 2 Caesars for each Augustus Prefects reporting to the Caesars Vicari reporting to the Prefects Governors reporting to the Vicarius.
So you could begin your career in charge of a Province, then progress to the Diocese, then to the Prefecture, then to a quarter of the Empire, then to the Western Empire and finally to be the top dog in the richest Greek-speaking part of the Empire – the supreme Augustus.
Did it work? Well, while Diocletian was alive maybe, but then when his Augustus of the West Constantius Chlorus died, his troops, in York, declared his son Constantine to be Augustus, bypassing the peaceful progression from Governor to Augustus back to the usual tactic of wiping out your fellow Prefects, Caesars and Augustii. After the Battle of Milvian Bridge, Constantine was universally recognised as the supreme Augustus. He moved the Eastern Capital from Nicosia to Byzantium and renamed it Constantinople.
Diocletian, another Augustus and 2 Caesars, Venice
More on the Sequani
One of our readers from France alerted me to the Wikipedia page on the Sequani which explains that the name comes from the Goddess Sequana who is a water goddess. The centre of the territory is Besançon which is on the Doubs River part of the Haute Saône Doubs and near to the springs that are the source of the Seine (west of Dijon). Here, the Fontes Sequanae (“The Springs of Sequana”) gave her name to the River Seine, and a healing spring was established in the 2nd/1st BC. Enlarged by the Romans, it became a significant health centre. as Wikipedia explains in the clip below:
Image of Sequana in a duck boat by Wikipedia FULBERT • CC BY-SA 4.0
‘Many dedications were made to Sequana at her temple, including a large pot inscribed with her name and filled with bronze and silver models of parts of human bodies to be cured by her. Wooden and stone images of limbs, internal organs, heads, and complete bodies were offered to her in the hope of a cure, as well as numerous coins and items of jewellery. Respiratory illnesses and eye diseases were common. Pilgrims were frequently depicted as carrying offerings to the goddess, including money, fruit, or a favourite pet dog or bird.’
Robins brought water to relieve tormented souls in Hell and. so, got their breasts scorched; their breasts were stained with Jesus’ blood; they fanned, with their wings, the flames of a fire to keep baby Jesus warm and got scorched. All these associations with Jesus make their association with Christmas and Christmas cards perfect sense.
They are the Celtic Oak King of the New Sun. The Robin is the son of the Wren. The Wren is the bird of the Old Sun, and the Robin kills his father, so the New Sun takes over from the Old Sun at the Winter Solstice. With the birth of the new Sun, the blood of the father stains the Robin’s breast. In Celtic Folklore, Robins are said to shelter in Holly trees. Robins appear when loved ones are near. If a Robin comes into your house, a death will follow.
Perhaps this gives a context for Shakespeare’s mention of a robin (ruddock he called it) which he grants the power of censure. in Cymberline. Innogen has been found dead, and amidst the floral tributes mentioned is the following:.:
the ruddock would with charitable bill (Oh bill sore shaming those rich-left-heirs, that let their Father’s lie without a Monument)
(Cymbeline, Act 4 scene 2)
They are one of the few birds to be seen all year round, and they sing all year too, but with different songs for autumn and spring. Robins sing from concealed spaces in trees or bushes. They are the first to sing in the morning, the last to stop at night, and can be triggered by street lights turning on. A Robin can sing all the notes on the scale and can sing for half an hour without repeating a melody.
They eat worms, seeds, fruits, insects and other invertebrates. Robins are aggressively territorial, and are our favourite birds. (RSPB)
On this Day
1554 – the same day at after-noon was a bear bitten on the Bank side, and broke loose and in running away he caught a serving man by the calf of the leg, and bit a great piece away and after by the ‘hokyl-bone’ witihin 3 days after he died.
Henry Machyn’s Diary quoted in ‘A London Year’ complied by Travis Elborough & Nick Rennison (my translation from 16th Century English – I think hokyl-bone might be holbourne, or holborn as we now call it.)
