I’ve been taking groups around Britain from London to Edinburgh and have fallen behind on my postings.
So, I am going to post a few posts today to put them on my Almanac of the Past. They will be brief, and will be worked up for a re-publication in greater length next year.
Archaeological Discoveries at Elverton St. Westminster
Near the site of the medieval jousting arena in Westminster, London at Elverton St, archaeologists, nearly 30 years ago, excavated a Cemetery which contained the remains of horses. The University of Exeter has recently revealed the results of their analysis of the horses’ bones. The 15 animals studied were found to be above average in height, and marked by a life where they had been worked hard. Analysis of their teeth suggested they came from as far afield as Scandinavia, the Alps, Spain, and Italy.
Three of the animals are the largest found in England at the time. The findings suggest they might be from a Royal Stud farm, providing war, jousting or hunting animals for the elite.
Popish Plot playing cards c1679 after a design by Francis Barlow
Titus Oakes was a con-man who accused leading Catholics, including the Queen, and the King’s Brother’s wife of participating in a plot to kill King Charles II and restore a Catholic monarchy.
It is thought that 22 people were executed, some Hanged, Drawn and Quartered because of Oates’ baseless accusations. Diarist, Samuel Pepys, was caught up in the controversy and the entire country was swept up in the anti-Catholic frenzy called the Popish Plot.
It was only with the accession of James II that the climate of opinion changed, and Oates was found guilty of perjury. Perjury was not punishable with death, so Oakes’ punishment was a long-drawn-out affair instead. He was sentenced to be imprisoned for life, and ‘whipped through the streets of London for five days a year for the remainder of his life.’
Oates was put in the pillory at Westminster Hall where passers-by pelted him with eggs. He was again pilloried the next day in the City. On the third day, stripped, tied to a cart, and whipped from Aldgate to Newgate. The following day he was whipped from Newgate to Tyburn. (Source Wikipedia)
However, when James II was deposed and replaced by the joint Protestants monarchs William and Mary in 1689, he was released and given a pension. He died in 1705.
Old Print showing the execution by Sword of Anne Boleyn
8am
‘Good Christian people, I am come hither to die, for according to the law, and by the law I am judged to die, and therefore I will speak nothing against it.
I am come hither to accuse no man, nor to speak anything of that, whereof I am accused and condemned to die, but I pray God save the King and send him long to reign over you, for a gentler nor a more merciful prince was there never: and to me he was ever a good, a gentle and sovereign lord.
And if any person will meddle of my cause, I require them to judge the best. And thus I take my leave of the world and of you all, and I heartily desire you all to pray for me. O Lord have mercy on me, to God I commend my soul.’
She was blindfolded. She knelt down putting her neck on the block and repeated:
‘ToJesus Christ I commend my soul; Lord Jesu receive my soul.’
Mast head of the St James Evening Post (June 1719)
On 16th May 1719, the St James Evening Post (later called the Evening Post) reported on the Guilty Verdict returned against ex-Servants Stephen Margrove and John Wood. The two men were accused of extorting money by the threat to expose George Smith as a sodomist (then punishable by death).
The Proceedings of the Old Bailey Archive gives details of the case which took place in the Parish of St. Martins in the Fields (near what is now Trafalgar Square), on 18th, January 1718. George Smith told the Court that:
‘ the Prisoners came up to him (and John Wood took him hold by the Collar of his Coat) and demanded his Money, and said if he would not give it them they would take away his Life and swear Sodomy against him; that by means of this Violence, and being under a Terror, and in great-Fear he gave them what he had in his Pocket.’
But they wanted more and forced Smith, to take them to his Master’s House in Golden-Square where he gave them another Guinea, to add to the 22 shillings they had already extorted.
Margrove and Wood protested that Smith: ‘came up to Wood while he was making Water, and took hold of his Yard, using some unseemly Expressions, whereupon he (Wood) called out a Sodomite.
At this accusation, Smith ‘fell on his Knees, and begg’d them not to expose him’ and gave them the money. So, the accused argued it could not be ‘robbing on the High Way’ because their victim gave them the money.
The Court held that the threats, and violence they used made them guilty of Violent Robbery. The men called witnesses to their good employment record, but were unable to show any evidence of ‘how they spent the last 6 Months of their Lives.’ And so the Jury found them Guilty, and the judge put on the Black Cap to pronounce the Death sentence.
On the 8th of June 1719 10 people, 7 men and 3 women were sentenced to hang, but 5 were reprieved. Wood, aged 22, and Margrove, aged 21, were however, executed. Rictor Norton in ‘Homosexuality in 18th Century England has more details, including the confessions of the two extortionists.
The Hoover Building in Perivale NW London, photo Kevin Flude
I published this piece in April, but for some reason to do with the fact that I published the posts from my phone rather than my computer, no email was sent to subscribers.
So, here is a chance to see it.
What makes owning a narrow boat so wonderful, apart from enjoying living amidst nature, is the accidental discovery of undreamt of wonders. Last week, I moved my narrow boat from Westbourne Park, on the Grand Union Canal, to Perivale. A 3-hour boat trip of less than 10 miles to a frankly uninspiring suburb. But, as so often, mooring in an uninspiring place uncovered surprises that transform the mundane to the delightful.
Paddington branch of the Grand Union Canal heading west from Westbourne Park. Photo Harriet Salisbury
We set off on a beautifully sunny April morning to move the boat the requisite distance to satisfy licence terms. Rain at 12 prompted a premature end to the trip. We trudged to Perivale Underground Station, bemoaning our failure to get to Southall, to enjoy a Dosa In London’s Little India.
The road to Perivale is dull suburbia. But we stopped at a library boasting a cafe, which turned out to be a really nice bit of early 20th Century library architecture, with a cheerful volunteer explaining they were keeping the library from closure due to council cost-cutting.
Perivale Library photo Kevin Flude
They had made the library really cosy with sofas and comfortably sitting areas. Sadly, the promised Café was not open.
Perivale Library. Interior. Photo Kevin Flude
The volunteer pointed us in the direction of a sandwich at the Tesco in the Hoover Building. I had no idea this icon of Modernism was a short walk away, so we jumped at the chance to see, at close range, one of my favourite London buildings.
The Hoover Building (photo K Flude)
I regularly point it out to the groups I take to Oxford. But I have never seen it up close nor standing still. Not only is the building a fabulous cream and green, but it has a backstory of interest to London’s history. As road transport began to remake the geography of London in the early 20th Century, factories in Hackney, Tower Hamlets, Southwark, Lambeth, and other Inner London Boroughs closed, and new factories were constructed on the roads out of London, mostly manufacturing consumer goods. Park Royal, Greenford, Slough and Staines were among the areas to develop as consumerism powered the 20th Century with the production of irons, kettles, hairdryers, radios, washing machines, vacuum cleaners and suchlike delights for the workers and families. The fields around were turned into rows of semi-detached houses to mortgage to the workers.
What made this trip even more special was that one of the original buildings has become a Hotel, in which we discovered a massive Indian Restaurant. There, we found it full of about 500 people eating a fast-breaking Eid dinner. £26 to eat as much as you can, all self-service, with scores of chefs serving their delicious tureens of Asian food. Such a great cultural experience, and rather better than the tasteless Tesco sandwich we were expecting.
If I’m passing the factory on a tour, I tend to read to my group Sir John Betjeman’s patronising poem ‘Slough’ which is about the horror of the new consumer society. ‘Slough’ is wonderful to read and, yet, also, awful, not just the Oxbridge author looking down his long privileged nose at the lower classes but going to the extreme of suggesting Slough would be better off bombed to smithereens.
Guernica was bombed on 26th April 1937 and ‘Slough appeared’ in a Betjeman collection called ‘Continual Dew’ in the same year (I havent located a reference with the actual date of publication). Bad taste in the extreme, hardly mitigated by the fact that it was originally written in 1928 and was about trading estates in general rather than Slough in particular. Still, despite all it is still one of my favourite poems for the insight it gives to attitudes of the British class system.
So, here it is.
Slough
Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough! It isn’t fit for humans now, There isn’t grass to graze a cow. Swarm over, Death!
Come, bombs and blow to smithereens Those air-conditioned, bright canteens, Tinned fruit, tinned meat, tinned milk, tinned beans, Tinned minds, tinned breath.
Mess up the mess they call a town- A house for ninety-seven down And once a week a half a crown For twenty years.
And get that man with double chin Who’ll always cheat and always win, Who washes his repulsive skin In women’s tears:
And smash his desk of polished oak And smash his hands so used to stroke And stop his boring dirty joke And make him yell.
But spare the bald young clerks who add The profits of the stinking cad; It’s not their fault that they are mad, They’ve tasted Hell.
It’s not their fault they do not know The birdsong from the radio, It’s not their fault they often go To Maidenhead
And talk of sport and makes of cars In various bogus-Tudor bars And daren’t look up and see the stars But belch instead.
In labour-saving homes, with care Their wives frizz out peroxide hair And dry it in synthetic air And paint their nails.
Come, friendly bombs and fall on Slough To get it ready for the plough. The cabbages are coming now; The earth exhales.
850 new factories were built in Slough before the outbreak of world war two, and the Trading Estate was first seen here. And yes, they are bleak, and Slough is even now, not the most exciting or architecturally sophisticated of towns. But to imagine bombing a town in a time when there was a real fear of mass destruction from the air?
I particularly object to the line about tinned food because I was brought up on tinned beans, peas, steak and kidney pudding, pineapple chunks, peaches, and rhubarb. And exactly what is wrong with a hair-dryer?
Before I read Slough, I recount an experience I had years ago with an American group who suddenly started laughing for no reason. I enquired, and they pointed to a huge advertising hoarding with a poster about the Electrolux Vacuum Cleaner. Its location near the Hoover building, I imagine might have been deliberate, but what made the Americans laugh was the slogan:
‘Nothing sucks like an Electrolux’
To a British person, the slogan works in a positive sense and we appreciate the wit. For the Americans, it made them all laugh with shock as to why anyone would pay to say their vacuum cleaner was complete pants.
Oh, and second best? Well, the best Modernist Building in London is the Daily Express Building, Fleet Street.
At the end of the May Day/Beltane Festival Helston in Cornwall holds its Furry (or Floral) Dance. It is normally on the 8th May, but it changes date if the 8th is a Sunday or a Monday (Helston’s market day) but it isn’t so the Floral Dance was held this year on Wednesday 8th 5th May.
Padstow holds, perhaps, the most famous May Day festival on May 1st. Padstow feels more of a ‘pagan’ festival, while Helston is a more sedate, gentlemanly, dance. Padstow is more fuelled by a belly full of ale, while Helston by a Pims No 1, or a Gin and Tonic?
Do, have a look at both youtube videos and watch the Padstow one until at least you see the ‘obby ‘orse and the teaser dancing.
Children born between the two days, May 1st and May 8th are considered to have been ‘born with the skill of man and beast and power over both.’
Swarm of Bees, Hackney (Photo Kevin Flude 30th May 2018)
Tusser’s ‘Five Hundred Points of Good Husbandry’ published 1573 suggests we should:
‘take heed to thy Bees, that are ready to swarm, the loss thereof now, is a crown’s worth of harm.’ The loss was particularly hard in May or June as the country verse tells us:
A swarm in May Is worth a load of hay A swarm in June Is worth a silver spoon A swarm in July Is not worth a fly.
In 2018, on 30th May, I was perturbed to find a swarm of Bees hanging outside my front door. Frightened of leaving my house, I rang a local Bee Keeper who came around to take possession of the Bees and take them to a new home.
Swarm of Bees, having moved 20 yards to a second perch, being ‘rescued’ by a bee keeper. You can see the swarm above his head
According to Hillman’s ‘Tusser Redivus’ of 1710, swarming in May produces particularly good honey, and he advises following the bees to retrieve them. He says:
‘You are entitled by custom to follow them over anyone’s land and claim them … but only so long as you ‘ting-tang’ as you go, by beating some metal utensil – the sound whereof is also said to make your bees stop.’
Much of the above is from The Perpetual Almanac of Folklore by Charles Kightly.
Bees swarm when a new Queen Bee takes a proportion of the worker bees to form a new colony. They will latch unto a branch or a shrub, even a car’s wing mirror, while sending bees out searching for a suitable new home, such as a hollow tree. There may be hundreds or even thousands in the new colony, and this may be very alarming, as I found, as I could not go out without walking through a cloud of bees. But, at this point, they will not be aggressive as they do not have a hive to protect. Look here for more information on swarming.
An average hive will produce 25 lbs of honey, and the bees will fly 1,375,000 miles to produce it, which is flying 55 times around the world (according to the British beekeepers Association (and my maths)) https://www.bbka.org.uk/honey
Bees are still having a hard time as their habitats are diminishing and threats increasing. In July, DEFRA hosts ‘Bees Needs Week’ which aims to increase public awareness of the importance of pollinators.
They suggest we can help by these 5 simple actions
Grow more nectar rich flowers, shrubs and trees. Using window or balcony boxes are good options if you don’t have a garden.
Let patches of garden and land grow wild.
Cut grass less often.
Do not disturb insect nests and hibernation spots.
Screenshot from Ebay (There is no link to ebay on this image)
Should have got this out yesterday because it was Star Wars Day. This is based on the flimsy premise that ‘May the 4th be with you’ is similar to ‘May the Force be with you’.
In the UK Census of 2011, 390,127 self-declared themselves as Jedi under the question about religion. However, ten years later, the number declined to a mere 1,600. The cause appears to be a call from the Humanists to use ‘No religion’ as rather than declare as a Jedi Knight.
To find out what went down on Happy Star Wars day, look at this website:
Rood screen in St. Helen’s church, Ranworth, Norfolk by Maria CC BY-SA 3.0
Roodmas is celebrated on May 3rd and September 14th, although the Church of England aligned itself with the Catholic Church’s main celebration on September 14th.
Rood is another word for the Cross. Parish Churches used to have a Rood Screen separating the holy Choir from the more secular Nave. This screen was topped with a statue of the Crucified Jesus nailed to a Rood.
The two dates of Roodmas reflects that it commemorates two events:
The Discovery of the Holy Cross in Jerusalem in 326 by Queen Helena, wife of Constantius Chlorus and mother of Constantine the Great. In Jerusalem, Queen Helena found the Cross with the nails, and the crown of thorns. She authenticated the Cross by placing it in contact with a deathly sick woman who was revived by the touch of Cross. She had most of the Cross sent back to the care of her son, Constantine the Great.
The part of the Holy Cross that was left behind in Jerusalem was taken by Persians but recovered by the Byzantine Emperor Heraclius in 628 in a peace treaty.
Over the years, the Cross was shivered into ever smaller pieces as Emperors, Kings, Queens, Dukes, Counts, Popes, Bishops, Abbots, and Abbesses swapped relics with each other. The fragments were cased in beautiful reliquaries and had enormous power for those of faith and those who could be helped by healing by faith.
The Duke of Buckingham had a piece in his collection, which he kept at York House in the early 17th Century. How he got it, I don’t know, but I think he must have acquired it from the aftermath of the destruction of the Reformation. John Tradescant, who looked after the Duke’s collection (before Buckingham was murdered), had a wonderful collection of curiosities which he kept in the UK’s first Museum in Lambeth. Tradescant’s Ark, as his museum was called, also had a piece of the True Cross. Again, I suspect (without any evidence) that he got it from Buckingham. Did he acquire it after the murder? Or shiver off a timber fragment hoping no one would notice?
The Chapel that Shakespeare’s Father controlled as Bailiff of Stratford on Avon, was dedicated to the Legend of the True Cross, to find out more click here:
Last year, I was just finishing this piece when I came across this astonishing story in the Shropshire News!
It seems two pieces of the True Cross were given to Charles III by the Pope! They have been put into a cross called the Welsh Cross which took part in the Coronation Procession, and then the King is giving the Cross (I assume with the pieces of the Holy Cross) to the Church in Wales. Let the Shropshire News tell the story:
An Imagined Scene at the Maypole at St Andrew Undershaft
Philip Stubbes, in his Anatomy of Abuses of 1583, fired a broadside at the tradition of dancing around the Maypole when he wrote a vitriolic attack on pagan practices. He said they had ‘as Superintendent and Lord ouer their pastimes and sportes: namely, Sathan Prince of Hell’ as they erected ‘this stinking Idoll’. Stubbes suggested that of the maids that went out to the woods on May Eve less than one-third returned ‘undefiled’.
The Maypole was stored at St Andrew Cornhill, which became known as St Andrew Undershaft. In 1517, it was attacked during the ‘Evil May Day riot’, which the Recorder of the time, Thomas More, helped quell. (300 were arrested and one hanged). The shaft was returned to its place under the eves of the houses in Shaft Alley, but apparently banned from being raised.
But in 1549, the curate of nearby St Katharine Cree Church made an inflammatory speech which led to a Puritan mob cutting the shaft into pieces and burning it. I always imagine the Curate’s sermons to be along the same lines as Phillip Stubbes attack on the Maypole:
‘But their chiefest iewel they bring from thence is the Maie-poale, which they bring home with great veneration, as thus: They haue twentie, or fourtie yoake of Oxen, euery Oxe hauing a sweete Nosegaie of flowers tyed on the tip of his homes, and these Oxen drawe home this Maie-poale (this stinking ldoll rather) which is couered all ouer with Flowers and Hearbes, bound round about with strings from the top to the bottome, and sometimes painted with variable collours, with two or three hundred men, women and children following it, with great deuotion. And thus being reared vp, with handkerchiefes and flagges streaming on the top, they strawe the ground round about, bind green boughes about it, set vp Summer Haules, Bowers, and Arbours hard by it. And then fa! they to banquet and feast, to leape and daunce about it, as the a Heathen people did, at the dedication of their ldolles, whereof this is a perfect patteme, or rather the thing it selfe. I haue heard it crediblie reported (and that viua voce) by men of great grauity, credite, and reputation, that of fourtie, threescore, or a hundred Maides, going to the wood ouemight, there haue scarcely the third part of them returned home againe vndefiled.‘
The unraised pole seems to have survived until the beginning of the Civil War, (1644) when it was destroyed. But at the Restoration of Charles II a new and huge Maypole was joyously erected 134 ft high (41 metres) in the Strand. This was danced around till 1713 when it was replaced and the original sold to Isaac Newton who used it to support the biggest telescope in Europe which was erected in Wanstead by a friend.
And that, my friends, is how you get from Superstition to Science in one easy story.
Old Print of Isaac Newton
Postscript. I have always said that the sermon that led to the destruction of the Shaft in 1549 was made at St Paul but cannot remember where I read this. The suggestion that the Maypole in Cornhill was not used after 1517 seems strange because why then would it rouse a crowd to riot in 1549? Of the sources I have at hand, the London Encyclopedia mentions the riot of 1517 in its entry on St Andrew Undershaft but doesn’t elaborate more. ‘Layers of London‘ says ‘It was last raised in 1517 when ensuing riots led to the celebration being banned.’ which is definitive sounding. But is it? I wonder if it was banned for a year or two, then allowed again, and finally stopped in 1549?
