Time - a timeline of clocks

by Deborah Swift

When writing historical fiction, as well as going back in time to the period I am writing about, I often have to consider that the notion of how time was measured in previous times is very different from my own. In the 17th century poorer people still used sand-glasses, and not everyone could afford a clock in their house. Churches rang the bells so that people had some sense of the time passing, but in general people were much less fixated on exact times than we are today.

The first clock was of course the sun, and the position of the stars in the night sky.

The first recorded mention of the sun dial was in 742 BC. There is, however, evidence of use of the sun dial as early as 2,000 BC! The carved stone on the left (bring your own stick) is from the Dingle Peninsula, Ireland.

By 330 AD Sand glasses were thought to be in use, the example I have shown is from 1830, as the hand-blown glass was very fragile, and few survived. These used to be made in different sizes to measure different amounts of time.Some could be large enough to stand on the ground and require servants to lift and turn them.

Candles with the wax scored to mark the time were widely used in poorer households who could not afford a sandglass, or sometimes candles fixed to a marked plate as in the example on the left. There is evidence that Alfred the Great used a candle clock in  885AD. 

In 1490 the mainspring was invented by Peter Hele, or Henlein, a locksmith of Nuremburg. About this time the small domestic, or table clock made its appearance, but these were expensive items and the previous more homespun methods of measuring the time continued to be used by most people.

Here is a fabulous example from www.metmuseum.org. Made as a 'masterpiece', (a requirement for admission to the guild of master clockmakers in Augsburg,) this clock strikes the hours and quarters and displays no less than three systems of counting hours: French hours (I–XII), Italian hours (1–24, beginning at sundown), and Nuremberg hours (divided into daylight and night hours, which vary in number according to the season of the year). Complex!

In 1541 an astronomical clock was fixed in one of the towers of Hampton Court Palace.

By 1610 Glass was able to be moulded to form as a protective cover for watch dials.

In 1657 Christiaan Huygens, a Dutch Physicist, made the first pendulum controlled clock, and grandfather clocks began to make their appearance in wealthier homes. The two kinds of movements are 30-hour and eight day, which indicates how long before the clock has to be wound with a key. The melody, bell, chime or gong sounds on the hour in the eight-day clocks and on the hour and half hour in the 30-hour clocks. 

1765 The centre Second hand became common. Here is a lovely '8 Day' mahogany long-case clock dated around 1835 with a decorated arch dial. Often the painted dials depicted mythological scenes, or the four seasons.

Around the middle of the 1800s, the spring-powered movement developed, paving the way for a variety of smaller clock cases. Many different materials were used in clocks. Wood was popular, including mahogany, oak, pine, walnut, and cherry.  

1858 The British Horological Institute was founded - an association of Clock and Watch Makers for the purpose of advancing their art, and "The Horological Journal," the oldest periodical dealing with the craft, was started.

1880 Greenwich Mean Time became the standard time for the whole of the United Kingdom.

Oh my word! Is that the time? Two thousand years has gone by and I hardly noticed. Must get on with some writing! 

And just in case you're interested in the English Civil War, orchids, obsession, adventure and romance, here's my book, The Lady's Slipper - out now, and featuring the turning of many sandglasses, the occasional church chime and the loud tick of a pendulum clock.

Amazon have just reduced it on Kindle - whoot! 

'Women's Fiction at its best' History and Women 'Brilliant saga' Romance Reviews today
'Rich and haunting' Reading the Past
'Riveting narrative' For the Love of Books
'Highly Recommended' Historical Novels Review
'Top Pick!'RT Book Reviews'
'Great read for lovers of sweeping historical fiction!' Night Owl Reviews

'Utterly captivating' Karen Maitland, author of The Owl Killers 

Thanks for Reading - Deborah x

Downton Abbey (or, Highclere Castle in sheeps clothing)

By Karen V. Wasylowski

Unless you've lived under a log for the past year or so you will recognize this sweet little English house.  It is Highclere Castle, or as we Downton Heads like to call it - Downton Abbey.

The history of this family, as well as the house, is very well known.  It was the Fifth Earl of Carnarvon who financed the Howard Carter expedition into Egypt that resulted in the discovery of none other than King Tutankhamen's tomb.   The house itself, designed by Sir Charles Barry, who also designed the Houses of Parliament, is situated on one thousand beautiful acres, an area roughly the size of Central Park in New York and has been in the Carnarvon family since 1679. 

There are over two hundred rooms, fifty to eighty bedrooms, some cellars, a really keen gallery and, unfortunately, only one ladies room.  But isn't that always the way.

I thought I would dig up some other, lesser known, tidbits about the Abbey.  Like, why is it called an Abbey? Well, as many other of the great English Estate houses, "Highclere is on the site of a former ecclesiastical property. (When then-king Henry VIII turned against the Catholics in the 16th century, he appropriated lock, stock, and barrel.) Used by the bishops of Winchester in the 12th century, even now, it boasts a 'monks’ garden.'" Can a bingo  room be very far off?  (I'm beginning to sound like the Dowager Countess.)

Another fun fact - if there ever was a fire "the evacuation procedure from the upper floors would have resembled an emergency airline deplaning. The maids would have had to slide through tunnels of canvas spread over iron hoops, reports Tom Sykes in the Daily Beast. As such, the danger of getting caught up during escape was significant, and so in case of fire, maids were urged to don sweaters before popping into the chutes."  I would imagine the family could just walk out the doors.

The row of bells we see every week to summon the servants to various aristocratic bedrooms, or to the family parlor or the library or, well, to wherever it is servants need to go, each have individual tones, so that the servants could tell, without looking at the words over the bells, which of the family was summoning them and to where.  My husband believed this to be a brilliant idea and attempted to install a similar system within our own home. The fire is nearly out now.

This last fun fact is my favorite.  Apparently, in the Carnarvon family's never ending quest to meet the unbelievable expense of running a home of this size (can you imagine the heating bill alone?  Energy saving tip - seal off all but 199 rooms and get a space heater.) But I digress...where was I?  Oh yes, well it seems they would like to sell off a bit of the land, develop fringes of the estate.  Now you and I wouldn't think twice about unloading the extra lot next door to us, but these poor folk are forced to butt heads with their neighbor - Andrew Lloyd-Webber, or Baron Andrew Lloyd-Webber now.  Imagine the repercussions.

If my neighbor objects to a Walmart being built on land I sell, or the odd Starbucks, he would have to take me to court - I suppose.  I don't really know, not having anyone actually interested in either my house or my land.

The poor Carnarvons, however, are going mano a mano with another peer of the realm. Or should that be Peer?  Does the problem now go before Parliament?  Is Cameron to be informed?  Must Will and Kate be forced to take sides? Two hundred years ago they would settle it like gentlemen - bet the entire SHE-bang on one hand of Vingt-et-un, or better yet - a duel at dawn in Hyde Park.  Ooh, ooh, better yet again, a hundred year's before that someone would have lost their head, be drawn and quartered - or worse.  I'm nearly certain of my facts.  Well, one can dream can't one?

Today I believe the worst that may happen is this - either Andrew Lloyd-Webber's land will touch a housing development filled with upper middle class Mrs. Bucket's attempting to introduce their various and vocally challenged offspring to him.

Or...the Carnarvon's may be forced to listen to Evita.

Beheading is not sounding so darn bad now, is it?

Karen V. Wasylowski is the author of the Pride and Prejudice sequel, "Darcy and Fitzwilliam".

Featured in June 2011 by the Orange County California Register as one of six books

They selected for a "Great Summer Read"

(also may be read in Spring and during several

week-ends in Fall.  Contact a

physician for Winter reading)

Finally, please visit my blog, The League of British Artists, to catch the latest news regarding your favorite handsome British actors and - occasionally when we must so that we don't appear to be stalkers - actresses.   (You can buy Darcy and Fitzwilliam there too)  (Buy two.)

Making Connections Past and Present: A personal tour of the Houses of Parliament

by Elizabeth Chadwick

A little while ago, A reader called Mike Pinchen wrote to me to say he'd been enjoying the novels about William Marshal. He also told me that he worked as an usher for Black Rod's department at the House of Lords and that should I ever wish for a bespoke guided tour of the Palace of Westminster, he would be delighted to show me round. How could I refuse? What a wonderful and unique opportunity. I accepted with alacrity and delight. Thank you Mike. What gave the invitation that extra frisson is that 800 years ago, John Marshal - hero of my novel A Place Beyond Courage, was in charge of the King's ushers, and the Marshal always carried a rod of office when on official business. We also know the name of two of the ushers from John Marshal's time - Bonhomme and Ralf. What a connection down the centuries. It gives me a feeling of warmth and pride and security to know that the job still exists. I guess that's what experiencing roots and continuity does for you.I arranged for my agent, Carole Blake, to come along too and we met up with Mike outside the Victoria Tower at the Palace of Westminster one morning towards the end of May. The Palace, incorporating the House of Commons and the House of Lords, is a strong man's stone-throw from Westminster Abbey, built on the command of Edward the Confessor who would have been able to look out from the Anglo Saxon palace to view the building of his Abbey. The Palace did exist in the mid 11th century, although in a very different form to the one standing today. The current magnificent neo Gothic buildings were constructed over a period of 30 years in the mid 19th century after the old palace burned down, taking much of a thousand years of history with it. Areas, however, remain within the newer complex, illuminating the more distant past like lantern light in a long tunnel. 
We weren't allowed to take photographs in many of the areas for obvious reasons, and there was so much to absorb and observe during our tour that I would have to write another novel to report it all! However, to say that we were allowed to take photos in one or two places and that some of the highlights for me - apart from seeing the centre of government, were:
Standing in the House of Commons and seeing how small it actually is. It always seems so much bigger on the television, but it is really quite intimate. The Prime Minister's dispatch box used to contain dispatches from around the Commonwealth, that were read out during sessions, but now, it apparently contains 'a pile of mouldy bibles.' ! The gap between the speakers when they are standing at the dispatch boxes is just over two sword-lengths - for obvious reasons!
It was wonderful to see Westminster Hall, originally built by William Rufus in the late 11th Century because the existing hall was too small for his needs. The bottom section of the hall is still of that date, but the stunning hammerbeam roof dates to the time of Richard II. Mike told us that Charles II had Oliver Cromwell dug up, removed his head, and hung it on a beam (right hand side nearest the camera) until it shrivelled up to the size of a pear. It's not there any more thank goodness! What was on show on Westminster hall though, was the remains of King Henry II's 'high table' which was also used for King Richard's coronation. It is made of purbeck marble rather than a wooden trestle and the area housing its remnants can be seen on the left mid-foreground of the photo. At one time parliament used to meet in this hall. There was also a gallery above for observers. To the right of the picture out of shot and down some stairs is the wonderful, wonderful chapel of St. Mary Undercroft. It's not on the beaten track to tourists and I feel very privileged to have been allowed to see it. The colours are so rich and the carving and detail so ornate that it gave me a sense like no other I have experienced of what the interior of a medieval church would have looked like. See the end of the post for photographs.
Following on from the chapel, we were given a peek into the broom cupboard where suffragette Emily Davidson hid on the eve of the census of 1911, so that she could give her address as the House of Commons. She was to die two years later when she threw herself under the horses as the Derby was being run, in order to highlight the plight of women. After this, we were taken to the House of Lords via the Queen's robing room, where she is dressed to prepare for the State opening of Parliament. Apparently this takes place behind a screen. Prince Philip has his own dressing area in the same room but in a different part and enjoys a glass of single malt whiskey at the same time!
The House of Lords is stunning, but unfortunately photography is not permitted. Pugin's work on the throne and surround has to be seen to be believed. Everywhere is rich with gold leaf and thicker gold itself on the hands of the angel at the side of the throne. A gallery runs around the top of the house, and the base of it is covered with a red curtain. This is apparently because when the Lords were in debate and ladies' skirts began to rise in the post Edwardian era, the flash of an ankle from those in the viewing gallery was extremely distracting to chaps trying to be good orators.Statues of the twelve barons of the most importance concerning the Magna Carta look down on the House of Lords from the gallery. William Marshal stands in a prominent position to the right of the throne if one is looking down the house towards the throne. Roger Bigod is there too, further down on the left from the same viewing point. Also William Earl of Salisbury who features in The Time of Singing and is a strong secondary character in my new work in progress. This was a stunning moment too, and almost a lump to the throat moment to know that these people are still represented in the cornerstone of government. What William thinks of it all, I don't know.
Most touching, and a little sad was the monument to employees of the Palace of Westminster who died in service. It's a rather lonely little inset in a side wall and has been overshadowed by a modern extension structure. Against all the gilding and opulence inside, it seems forlorn and perhaps even a little disrespectful. One feels that such a memorial should have more presence. It was a sobering thought and helped to keep us grounded amid all the rich surroundings.My sense of direction is a trifle dyslexic and I can't remember now which part of the tour I saw it, but we were also vouched a glimpse of the wall paintings from Henry III's private apartments - his 'Painted chamber.' Again no photographs, but I could have stood for hours and looked at these. They were partially destroyed during the fire at Westminster, but remnants survive, and again, lead me to realise how colourful the medieval world was and it made me long to go back to the 12th or 13th century for a holiday.I have run out of my allotted time to write this blog post and I'm away researching next week, but I wanted to share this with you all first, and to say a huge thank you to Mike Pinchen for showing myself and Carole such a unique and important slice of our country's past and its
future. The sight of the marks Black Rod's staff of office have made on the doors of Parliament, reinforced to me how our traditions live on. Those marks could as easily have been made by John or William Marshal in their day.

St Stephens undercroft chapel Westminster 

From "The Art of English Shooting"

by Farida Mestek

I think it was as long ago as September that I had an idea for a Regency-set story with a shooting party in its centre. With that in mind I plunged myself into research and practically gobbled the first two books on the subject that I found. However, then things began to slow down and the shooting party idea started gradually drifting away from me. Personally, I blame the book I got stuck reading. It is called simply “Shooting” and provides very detailed information about a lot of aspects of the sport but, unlike the previous books, I find it very difficult to read and I have this annoying habit of not starting a new book unless I finished the old one.

However, on present occasion, I had to take a break from this habit and this book in order to do a blog post and so I took up another – “The Art of English Shooting” by George Eddie, Gent.. It's an old book with “s” looking like “f” but it has many advantages: it's very short (about 40 pages), understandable despite the old-fashioned language, concise but at the same time informative. And it provided me with just the kind of information that I need to know in order to imagine my main heroes before, during and after the day's sport in some detail. I think that it is important to understand the mechanics even if you're not going to use them in your story and today, I'm going to present to your attention some of the points that I found useful. For one, I think that it is very important for any young sportsman to know exactly how to check the gun and see if it's any good:

The internal goodness of a Piece (gun) can only be known by trial, without which no new one should be purchased. For the purpose of trying a gun, the following hints may suffice: tack a large sheet of brown paper, with a card in the middle, on a clean barn-door, or some such place, that the degree of scattering may be the better observed; stand at about the distance of seventy yards, and try at first the common charge of a pipe of powder, and a pipe and half of shot; and, to do the gun justice, be as steady as possible in your aim: if you find you have thrown any at this distance into the card, you may safely conclude the Piece is a good one; or if you have missed the card, perhaps through unsteadiness, and thrown a tolerable sprinkling into the sheet, you may have the same good opinion of the gun; but if you find none in the sheet, and are sensible of having shot steady, try then an equal quantity of powder and shot (which some barrels are found to carry best) at the same distance; and if you then miss giving the sheet a tolerable sprinkling, refuse the Piece, as being but an indifferent one, if you are determined to have one of the best sort, which certainly is most advisable: and this trial may be reckoned altogether sufficient for a gun that is recommended by any gunsmith as a first-rate one.

I can almost see it. I think it would make a fine background for a scene between friends or brothers – a kind of a bonding moment at the gunsmith's where one can advise or instruct the other or they might just have a friendly debate over which gun is better or some such. Another important thing that every sportsman, especially a new one, should learn is how to look after one's gun once it is purchased:

… it is necessary the inside of the barrel, the touch-hole, and the lock be kept clean; and the springs and moving parts of the lock properly oiled. The barrel should be washed at least after every eighteen or twenty fires, where the best sort of powder is used; but if the gunpowder is an inferior sort, then the barrel will require the oftener washing. The best method of washing a barrel is by taking out the britch-pin; but as this can seldom be conveniently done, take the barrel out of the stock, and put the britch-end into a pail of warm water, leaving the touch-hole open; then, with an iron rod, with tow or a bit of linen rag at the end, draw up and down in the syringe manner, till it is quite clean; changing the water, and rinsing the inside, as the foulness requires: when the barrel is perfectly clean, its inside must be dried by tow or linen rag; and when this is done, it will be proper to put it in a red-hot iron, of six or eight inches in length, (which any blacksmith will furnish,) and move it up and down to dry any remaining damp: the outside of the barrel should be well dried, and a little oil rubbed over every time of cleaning.

I don't know if anyone (but me) finds these facts interesting or useful, but I think that there is something fascinating about the subject. I can certainly hope to be able to use this information in my books, because then I will finally be able to take my male characters out and into the fields for a change of scene. I would definitely recommend “The Art of English Shooting” for everyone who wants to know about the subject but doesn't have a lot of time to spend in perusal of bigger volumes. There are many other things, but I will write about some of them next month :-))


Farida Mestek is the author of “Margaret's Rematch” (newly edited and with a gorgeous new cover), “A Secret Arrangement” and “Lord Darlington's Fancy” - romantic stories set against the backdrop of Regency England. You can learn more about her books at her blog Regency Sketches.

Giveaway~ Salt Bride by Lucinda Brant

Enter a drawing to win a hardcover, signed copy of Salt Bride by Lucinda Brant.

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Libraries in Georgian and Regency England

by Lauren Gilbert

Stourhead Library, Southwest Corner

In the 18th century, the marketing of literature evolved from private patronage to publishing by booksellers. This resulted in writers becoming less entertainers for hire (e.g. in the 16th century, Spenser writing the FAERIE QUENE for the court of Queen Elizabeth) and more independent professionals. This resulted in two new literary forms-the periodical essay and the novel. These forms brought literature into the clubs, coffee houses, assemblies and other public places (out of the universities, private libraries, and churches) and exposure to a wider audience (merchants and the “climbing” man). In the Georgian era, reading became more commonly taught to the lower classes because of a concern that people should be able to read the Bible for themselves. Money was furnished to the Church of England for this education, and more people were exposed to reading material.

Initially, a library or study was not common- a collection of books (especially with leather bindings) in a private home was a sign of wealth and prestige. A library or study was designed for the use of the master, being a place where “…”typically, a country gentleman would receive his tenants or keeper….” (Pool, 191) Until 1861, the tax on paper helped keep books scarce and expensive. The Stamp Act of 1797 levied a tax of sixpence on each copy of a newspaper. This was raised in 1815 to 4 pence, with a separate tax of 3 shillings on pamphlets and 3 shillings sixpence on newspaper advertising. (Hughes, 128) Books were expensive and considered luxuries. At the Jane Austen Society of North America’s Annual General Meeting in 2004, at the Huntingdon Museum, Stephen Tabor lectured on “The Look of the Book” in Jane Austen’s time and described the bindings: leather (most expensive), cloth, and paper. For example, when Thomas Creevey, MP, found books too expensive to buy, he lamented when he could no longer access certain volumes of Wellington’s Dispatches and had to make do with works available from a different library. The cost factor alone makes Reverend Austen’s library of over 500 volumes all the more remarkable.

Because of the cost of newspapers, newspaper societies were formed in local parishes where a group of people each contributed a weekly sum to subscribe to a London newspaper and 2 or 3 provincial papers (about sixpence a week); poorer districts had more subscribers contributing less (about 1 penny a week) to subscribe to a provincial papers. (A total of 5000 of these societies were operating in the 1820’s.) Local printers and booksellers started their own libraries. In London alone, in 1819 there were 28 booksellers which kept circulating libraries, and 9 with reading rooms. Hatchard’s Booksellers which was found in 1797 in Piccadilly, and is still open today, was one of the booksellers with a reading room. In 1821, there were approximately 65,000 reading societies in Great Britain providing reading material for annual subscriptions ranging from ½ guinea to 2 guineas a year to families. The cost of books caused people to combine to form libraries. On Nov. 30, 1814, in reference to a possible 2nd edition of MANSFIELD PARK, Jane Austen wrote, “People are more ready to borrow and praise, than to buy –which I cannot wonder at.” (JANE AUSTEN’S LETTERS, p. 287) Most towns had subscription libraries and circulating libraries where books could be borrowed for an annual fee. Lending libraries of this nature started up in provincial towns and watering places, and spread. Although a large percentage of published material was religious in nature, novels became extremely popular across all class lines. For example, the novels of the Minerva Press, which included THE MYSTERIES OF UDOLFO by Mrs. Radcliffe, were read by all levels of society.

Many of these subscription libraries still exist and are in use in England today. The Association of Independent Libraries was founded in 1989, and the founding members were all institutions which began as independently-funded subscription libraries established between 1768 and 1841. The association now includes libraries of historic foundation not necessarily meeting the original criteria. The oldest member library is Chetham’s Library, founded in Manchester in 1653 as a public reference library by Humphrey Chetham, a merchant, for the benefit of the people of Manchester. The smallest member library is the Tavistock Subscription Library, founded in 1799 in Tavistock, Devonshire-in 1810, the Duke of Bedford was the president of this library. The majority of the libraries in this association still retain their independence.

Image: Library at Stourhead House via Wikimedia Commons
http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Stourhead_House,_Library,_south-west_corner.jpg#file

BIBLIOGRAPHY

JANE AUSTEN’S LETTERS. Deidre Le Faye, editor. 3rd Edition 1993 (paperback ed. 1997). Oxford University Press, Oxford.

LIFE IN GEORGIAN ENGLAND; E. N. Williams; 1962, 1967: William Clowes & Sons, London.

LIFE IN REGENCY ENGLAND; R. J. White; 1963, 1969; William Clowes & Sons, London.

WHAT JANE AUSTEN ATE AND CHARLES DICKENS KNEW; Daniel Pool; 1993: Simon & Schuster Inc., New York NY.

THE WRITER’S GUIDE TO EVERYDAY LIFE IN REGENCY AND VICTORIAN ENGLAND FROM 1811-1901; Kristine Hughes; 1998: Writer’s Digest Books (F & W Publications) Cincinnati OH.


Internet Sources:
Sanborn, Vic. “The Circulating Library in Regency Resorts.” Jane Austen’s World blog, 8/30/2010. Viewed 8/30/2010.

http://www.londonancestor.com/
http://www.hatchards.co.uk/
http://www.georgianindex.net/
http://www.independentlibraries.co.uk/

General George Monck and the Siege of Dundee

In the late summer of 1651, Scotland's fortunes were at a very low ebb indeed. Her field army had suffered a decisive defeat at the hands of English Commonwealth forces at the the battle of Dunbar (3 September 1650) and the nearest thing she had to a Government, the Committee of Estates, had been captured at Alyth in Perthshire during the night of 27/28 August by Colonel Alured at the head of a party of 8,000 English horse. King Charles II had led his army out of Scotland and into England at the end of July and only a few scattered garrisons remained to defend the country.

Although Oliver Cromwell had led the bulk of the Commonwealth forces in Scotland south in early August in pursuit of Charles II, a substantial English army remained behind under the command of General George Monck. These men did not stand idle after the capture of the Committee of Estates, but set about reducing the remaining strongholds that were still held by the Scots in the name of Charles II.

Stirling Castle fell on August 14, surrendering on terms after a brief siege. By August 23 Monck was at Perth, where his troops received supplies of cheese, biscuits and other essentials sent by ship from England. On 26 August Monck formally 'summoned' Dundee, in other words he invited the defenders to capitulate on terms. However, the Royalist Governor, Sir Robert Lumsdaine, not only refused by suggested that instead Monck and his army should lay down their arms and accept the King's grace. (It must be remembered that Charles II was still in the field in England at this time, and his comprehensive defeat at Worcester (3 September 1651) was still a thing of the future.)

Dundee was a well-fortified, walled town, which had previously seen off an attack by the Marquis of Montrose. The Governor's confidence is therefore understandable.

The rules of war at this time were harsh, and were to remain unchanged well into the 19th Century. If a garrison surrendered immediately on summons, it could usually expect generous terms. If it resisted for a time and then yielded, it might still receive reasonable terms. However, if it resisted and was eventually taken by storm, any mercy shown was purely at the discretion of the victor. Men taken in arms might lawfully be shot or put to the sword, and although civilians were nominally protected it was the usual custom to allow the victorious troops to loot and rape to their hearts' content for at least twenty-four hours. Obviously if a civilian male picked up a weapon to defend his family he was likely to be killed without question. In an age when uniforms were by no means standardised, even where they existed at all, it was not always straightforward to distinguish between a soldier and a civilian anyway.

This may seem barbarous, but the intention was to encourage garrisons to yield before a 'practicable breach' had been made in their defences. The storming of a fortification was an horrendous business for the attackers as well as the defenders. Many of them would inevitably be killed or badly wounded and it was necessary to provide them with 'incentives'. Some might hope to be promoted, but for the majority the prospect of several hours looting a town without restraint was reward enough.

By 29 August siege guns, including mortar pieces were in place and the following night, amid wet and stormy weather, they were 'played upon the town'.

Late on 31 August Monck was reinforced by two regiments of horse who had been out on patrol (and defeated 400 Scottish cavalry while they were about it) and was now in a position to storm the town. Next day began with a heavy exchange of artillery fire, lasting some two or three hours until large breaches were made in the fortifications. At 11 o'clock the English, with their field cry 'God with us' broke into the town in two separate places. Hand-to-hand fighting continued for half-an-hour, when some of the Scots retreated into the church. They were overtaken by the English and at least five hundred soldiers and townsmen were killed, including the Governor, against around twenty English killed. The large disparity strongly suggests that many, perhaps even the great majority, were cut down in the rout. When the English reached the market-place, quarter was given to another five hundred Scots.

One source I came across claimed that 2,000 were killed, including 200 women and children - it is hard to be definitive about such matters at this date, when the losing side inevitably magnified casualties for propaganda purposes. The 500 dead can perhaps be taken as a minimum.

Although the English soldiers were given an 'official' twenty-four hours to plunder the town, attacks on inhabitants and their possessions went on for a further fortnight despite Monck's attempts to stop them. Given that the New Model Army was one of the most professional and disciplined armed forces in Europe this was completely inexcusable, even by the standards of the time.

I have a long-standing interest in the Civil War in the Three Kingdoms, but until very recently I had never heard of the massacre of Dundee, which is very odd when the whole world, his wife and his cat knows about the similar events at Drogheda for which Oliver Cromwell is held responsible. I have difficulty in accounting for this discrepancy, except to point out that in 1660 General George Monck was instrumental in restoring Charles II to his throne, after which nothing bad could be said about him. Whereas after 1660, nothing was too bad to say about Cromwell.

For anyone who would like to know more about events in Scotland at this time I strongly recommend Cromwellian Scotland by Frances Dow, the book which first brought the sad events at Dundee to my notice.

Brian Wainwright is the author of Within the Fetterlock a novel about the life of Constance of York, the cousin of Richard II and Henry IV and The Adventures of Alianore Audley a light-hearted novel about a Yorkist intelligence agent which is really a parody of the genre. The Open Fetterlock, published in Kindle format only, is not a novel as such but contains extracts from several abandoned or indefinitely postponed manuscripts. He is currently working (very slowly) on a number of projects.

Soap-box Cart Buildin'

by Jenno (or Peter St. John)

Yeah, well— a certain person, wot shall remain nameless, reckons as 'ow Oi ought ter write a post. Trouble is, writin' ain't exactly wot Oi do best, if'n yew see wot Oi mean. Any'ow, fer the sake o' peace an' quiet, Oi said as 'ow Oi'd give it a go. So 'ere it is:

Oi'm s'posed ter write somefink wots 'istorical. Oi ain't really inter 'istory,
though there are some people around as reckons as 'ow Oi'm somefink a bit 'istorical mesself (or do they mean 'isterical? Wot ain't polite...). Any'ow, wot Oi'm goin' ter do, is ter tell yew a bit about ow we make soap-box carts in Widdlin'ton, wot is the village in England where Oi come from. Incidentally, there's a map o' Widdlin'ton on http://www.peterstjohn.net/ wot shows where moi 'ouse is. It shows the Mountain Glide where we race, an' all. Yew c'n 'ave a look if'n yew loike. There's some pictures of me there, as well as pictures o' some of our soap-boxes. Any'ow, back ter cart makin'...

It ain't very difficult ter make a soap-box cart, provided yew've got a box an' some good wheels. The best kind 'ave got ball-bearings rather than ordin'ry plain bearings. Yew c'n sometimes get 'em off'n an old perambulator (Wot lovely word! But Oi fink that in America it's wot they call a "baby carriage"). The underneath part is loke wot Molly 'as in the picture 'ere. My own cart, "Emmeline P", 'as got
pram wheels too, wot come off my perambulator after my daft bruvver let it roll down the steps in front of ol' farmer Catchpole's tractor… The wheels were still okay though.

Moi cart is named after that there Mrs Emmeline Pankhurst, wot chained 'erself ter railin's an' went ter prison, an' all, so's women c'd get ter vote in England. A right great lady she were, even though she weren't very big; loike me. She's got 'er statue in a little park roight by the railin's o' Parliament 'Ouse, near that woppin' great clock wot they call Big Ben, though roightly speakin' it's the bell wot sounds the hour wot is really Big Ben. Any'ow, moi cart's called Emmeline P; loike yew c'n see in the picture 'ere, an' nat’rally, it's the
fastest cart in Widdlin'ton, even if it's me wot says so.

O' corse, yew're also goin' ter need a good wooden soap-box. Yew used ter be able ter get one from the local store; they were only too glad ter be rid of 'em. It's
probably a bit 'arder ter get one these days, wot wiv the war, an' crises, an' modern packagin', an' all that sorta fing. Still an' all, yew c'n always make a box out of a plank or two; in which case, it's a good idea ter use somefink a bit thinker, 'cos, when all's said an' done, them usual soap-boxes are just a bit flimsy. They don't stay tergevver so well if yer cart 'appens ter turn over;
wot ain't so rare.

A real important part of the cart, the long plank wot 'olds everyfink tergevver, is wot we call the "Spine". That's gotta be real thick, three-quarters of an inch at least. If it's any thinner, it'll be all springy, loike wot them big American cars are, an' then yew c'n get kinda seasick when it bounces up an' down over the bumps. Besides, it's gotta be solid enough ter take the 'ole at the front fer the steerin' bolt. If'n it's too thin, yew'll lose the front axle the very first toime yew ride down over a curbstone. See wot Oi mean?

When Peter an me made moi Emmeline P, Oi come along wiv a tin full o' nails, only Peter said that nails weren't no good fer makin' carts. Yew 'ave ter screw 'em, or better still, bolt 'em tergevver, 'cos nails work loose pretty quick. Oi pass the tip on. Yew don' 'ave ter thank me fer it, 'cos Oi didn't know it either at the toime. The best sort o' bolts, are them wiv a little square under the ‘ead. They call 'em "coach" bolts. Yew need ter fix 'em wiv a washer under the nut,
ovverwise it 'urts the wood, an' then they come loose as quick as yew c'n say Akron Hill.

If'n yew use screws ter fix the box ter the spine, then it's best ter put some glue on as well. Then it won't never come apart. The wheels, complete wiv axle, yew c'n fix underneath wiv "U" bolts. Oi reckon as 'ow Oi don't 'ave ter describe wot a "U" bolt is, 'cos it looks exactly loike wot it's called. An' that'd be useful fer everyfink, don't yew reckon?

Go well. 'Appy cartin'!

Wiv love from Jenno.

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English Folk Music Part 3

Hello and welcome back to my series of posts on English Folk music.

This month, I have two songs again. The first is "The Keys of Canterbury" and the second is "Poor Murdered Woman".

The Keys of Canterbury

The Keys of Canterbury is a lovely tale of courtship. It tells of how a man tries to buy the love of a woman, promising her all sorts of gifts.

There are several variations of this song. In the one below, the man offers the lady all sorts of riches, but she refuses until he offers her his heart and she accepts. He realises that the only way to win her is to give her his heart.

However, there are other versions where the lady accepts after the offer of a number of riches but the man then withdraws his offer saying she is only after money.

This tune was first written down in 1846, but it dates back much further. In one of the versions the man offers the lady a pair of cork shoes. This means that the song dates from no later than the era of chopines or high cork shoes: 1400-1600's. In 1670, there was an Act of Parliament that banned women wearing high-heeled shoes (and other items) and it was punishable by "the penalty of the laws now in force against witchcraft, sorcery, and such like misdemeanors." I hope it was repealed!

This song has also been widely sung as a singing game amoung children (singing in rounds).

The version is by Show of Hands. Lyrics are below (lyrics may be slightly different to this version).

O Madam, I will give you
The keys of Canterbury,
And all the bells in London
Shall ring to make us merry.
If you will be my joy, my sweet and only dear,
And walk along with me, anywhere.

I shall not, Sir, accept of you
The keys of Canterbury,
Nor all the bells in London,
Shall ring to make us merry.
I will not be your joy, your sweet and only dear,
Nor walk along with you, anywhere.

O Madam, I will give to you
A pair of boots of cork,
The one was made in London,
The other made in York,
If you will be my joy, my sweet and only dear,
And walk along with me, anywhere.


I shall not, Sir, accept of you
A pair of boots of cork,
Though both were made in London,
Or both were made in York.
I will not be your joy, your sweet and only dear,
Nor walk along with you, anywhere.

O Madam, I will give you
A little gold bell,
To ring for your servants,
And make them serve you well.
If you will be my joy, my sweet and only dear,
And walk along with me, anywhere.

I shall not, Sir, accept of you
A little gold bell,
To ring for all my servants,
And make them serve me well.
I will not be your joy, your sweet and only dear,
Nor walk along with you, anywhere.

O Madam, I will give you
A broidered silken gownd,
With nine yards a-drooping
And training on the ground,
If you will be my joy, my sweet and only dear,
And walk along with me, anywhere.

O Sir, I will accept of you
A broidered silken gownd,
With nine yards a-drooping
And training on the ground,
Then I will be your joy, your sweet and only dear,
And walk along with you, anywhere.

-----

Poor Murdered Woman:

This song tells of the true story of a murdered woman found in Leatherhead in 1834 by the Surrey Union Hunt. It was said to have been written by Mr Friars, a Brickmaker in the area and tells of the sad tale of the woman who nobody knew but whose murder shocked and stirred the locals compassion.

Below is the newspaper report of the murder from The Times Tuesday January 14th 1834:

SUPPOSED MURDER - While the Surrey Union Fox Hounds (which are under the direction of H. Combe, Esq.) were out hunting on Saturday last, on Leatherhead Common, a most extraordinary and horrid circumstance occurred which at present is involved in great mystery. About 12 o'clock in the day, as the huntsman (Kitt) was beating about for a fox, the hounds suddenly made a dead set at a clump of bushes on the common. As no fox made his appearance, the huntsman whipped the hounds off, but they still returned to the bushes and smelling all round, would not leave. Supposing there was a fox which would not break cover, the huntsman &c., beat the bushes and in so doing, to their astonishment and horror, they discovered the body of a woman in a state of decomposition, so much so, that on attempting to remove it it was found to be impracticable. A person was placed to watch the remains, and information was sent to Dr. Evans of Leatherhead, who promptly attended. On examining the head, a severe wound was found, and from the general appearance of the body it is supposed to have lain there several months. It was placed in a shell and removed to the Royal Oak, on the common, where a coroner's inquest is summoned to assemble this day (Monday). Various rumours are afloat, some stating the unfortunate woman was the wife of a travelling tinker.

---

Jackie Oates has recently done a version of this song, unfortunately it's not available yet on YouTube, but click here, and you'll be able to hear a clip.

Lyrics:

It was Hanky the squire as I've heard men say
Who rode out a-hunting on one saturday
They hunted all day but nothing they found
But a poor murdered woman laid on the cold ground

About eight o'clock, boys, our dogs they throve off
On Leatherhead Common and that was the spot
They tried all the bushes but nothing they found
But a poor murdered woman laid on the cold ground

They whipped their dogs off and they kept them away
Cried "We think it is proper that she should have fair play"
They tried all the bushes but nothing they found
But a poor murdered woman laid on the cold ground

They mounted their horses and they rode off the ground
They rode to the village and alarmed it all around
"It is late in the evening, I'm sorry to say
She cannot be removed until the next day"

The next sunday morning about eight o'clock
Some hundreds of people to the spot they did flock
For to see the poor creature, your hearts would have bled
Some cold-hearted violents came into their heads

She was took off the Common and down to some inn
And the man that has kept it, his name is John Simms
The coroner was sent for, the jury they joined
And soon they concluded and they settled their mind

The coffin was brought, in it she was laid
And took to the churchyard of this court Leatherhead
No father nor mother nor no friend I'm told
Came to see the poor creature laid under the lawn

So now I conclude and I'll finish my song
And those that have tarried shall find themselves wrong
To the last day of Georgemont a trumpet shall sound
And this soul's not in heaven, I'm afraid, when being found

I hope you have enjoyed this month's selection of folk songs. I'll be back on February 13th with some more.

Jenna Dawlish

www.jennadawlish.com

Author of two Victorian novels: Love Engineered and Sprig of Thyme.

Gossip in Early Modern England

by Samuel Thomas

In today’s world, whether it is used as a noun or a verb, the term “gossip” has universally negative connotations. Gossips spread rumors of dubious veracity, and are often considered the very opposite of what a friend should be. But such was not always the case, for in early modern England “gossip” had additional and sometimes contradictory meanings. In this post I’ll briefly outline origins and changing definitions of “gossip” and in a later post I’ll try to rehabilitate gossip’s reputation and make the case for it’s importance to a well-ordered society.

According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the earliest recorded use of the word “gossip” comes from 1014, but its meaning would have no resonance today, for “gossip” referred to a child’s godmother or godfather. The spiritual kinship between the child and the godparent extended to the child’s birth parents as well, making them “siblings in god.” And here is where things get really cool: “gossip” is short for “god-sib” which is itself an abbreviated form of “god sibling.” Thus your gossips were the women and men you chose as godparents for your child – gossips were your closest friends. (According to the English, the Irish chose wolves as their gossips. As one historian noted, this idea is as interesting if it is false as if it is true.) Intriguingly enough, this meaning of the word – including its inclusion of men as gossips – endured into the late 19th century.

In the seventeenth century, “gossip” began to refer to the women who attended a woman during labor and delivery of a child, or at her recovery (or lying-in) afterwards, and here we can begin to see the word taking on its negative connotations. Prior to the eighteenth century, childbirth was women’s business, and a central occasion for women’s sociability. A woman gave birth not in the presence of doctors and nurses (whom she knew not at all), but her friends and neighbors. Such gatherings of women made some men very nervous, and they spilt a great deal of ink voicing their anxiety. In ’Tis Merry When Gossips Meet (1602) and its sequel A Crew of Kind Gossips (1609), Samuel Rowlands describes the meeting between a widow, wife, and spinster in which the three women exchange complaints about their husbands, and the widow offers the other women advice on how to manipulate their spouses.



While there is no denying Rowlands’s misogyny, his description may not have been entirely off the mark. Writing later in the century Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Newcastle, describes just such a gathering in terms Rowlands would recognize:

as is Usual at such Gossiping Meetings, their Discourse was most of Labours and Child-beds, Children and Nurses, and Household Servants...at last they fell into a Discourse of Husbands, Complaining of Ill Husbands, and so from Husbands in General, to their own Particular Husbands.

When Cavendish ( ever the defender of patriarchy ) reprimanded the women for their disrespectful carriage, they turned their guns on her.

the ladies being before Heated with Wine, and then at my Words, with Anger fell into such a Fury with me, as they fell upon me, not with Blows, but with Words, and their Tongues as their Swords, did endeavour to Wound me...it hath so Frighted me, as I shall not hastily go to a Gossiping-meeting again, like as those that become Cowards at the Roaring Noise of Cannons, so I, at the Scolding Voices of Women.

(This episode also makes clear we should not imagine these gatherings as occasions for sisterly resistance against patriarchal oppression. Rather they were the scene of as much infighting and competition as characterized society in general.)

In the early modern period, then, the term “gossip” could refer any number of things, ranging from a child’s godfather, to a woman’s closest female friends, to a woman who spread scurrilous rumors about her neighbors. While some might find such imprecision frustrating, to my mind it simply speaks to the richness of early modern English and the ability of the common folk to define words in terms that were useful to them.


Sam Thomas's debut novel The Midwife's Tale: A Mystery will be published in 2013 by Minotaur/St. Martin's press. He can be found on Facebook, Twitter, and his very own website.