Unofficial London - Goings-On in Fleet Street.

 

Q. What links Fleet Street to traditional tiered wedding cakes?

A. St Bride's church (read on for more!)

 

Today's post is about some of the history of Fleet Street, a name synonymous (until the 1980's at least) as home of the British newspaper industry. The name originates from the River Fleet, which is London's largest underground river.

The entrance to the River Fleet in 1750.

Perhaps Fleet Street's most notorious resident was Sweeney Todd - the so-called "Demon Barber of Fleet Street". Todd was reputed to have cut the throats of his clients, stolen their valuables and then disposed of their bodies in pies baked by the enterprising Mrs Lovett. However, despite references to Tod starting in the mid-19th century, there seems no factual basis for his story, indeed there is no Sweeney Todd mentioned in contemporary popular press, listed in the register of the Barbers' Company or in the Old Bailey's records.

Fleet Street in 1890 - note St Pauls in the distance.

The exact origins of Todd's gruesome exploits are unclear but it seems likely there were examples of early 'urban myths' circulating in Victorian times, about what happened to country bumpkins who came to London.

As above on a grey October morning, 2012.

Indeed, Charles Dickens alludes to people being made into pies in Martin Chuzzlewit (1844). Here, Tom Pinch gets lost in the evil city:

"I don't know what John will think of me. He'll being to be afraid I have strayed into one of those streets where the countrymen are murdered; and that I have been made meat-pies of, or some such horrible thing."

Tom's evil genius did not lead him into the dens of any of those preparers of cannibalistic pastry, who are represented in many standard country legends as doing a lively retail business in the Metropolis.
 

Could it be that if Sweeney Todd had not existed, it was necessary to invent him?

The legend of Sweeney Todd - Tim Burton's interpretation-
still capturing the imagination today.

 Whilst on the subject of pies and dining, since the time of the Great Fire of London, Fleet Street was renowned for its taverns and coffeehouses. Tantalisingly, one of these that survives to the present day is Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese (a tavern had been on the same site since 1538) destroyed in the Great Fire and rebuilt in 1667, it is open for business to this day. Charmingly, to the right hand side of the entrance is a list of all the monarchs who have reigned since the Cheese opened its doors.

Ye Olde Chesire Cheese -
note to board to the right of the door.

And whilst on the subject of food, this brings us back to what links Fleet Street to the traditional tiered wedding cake design.
The answer is St Bride's Church.
Arguably one of the most ancient churches in London thought to be founded by 7th century Celtic monks under the auspices of St Bridget of Ireland. The church has a number of famous parishioners, such as Samuel Pepys, who was baptised here and then in 1644 buried his brother Tom in the vaults- which were reputedly so full that Pepys had to bribe the gravedigger to jostle bodies around to make room. 
Destroyed by the Great Fire, Christopher Wren was commissioned to redesign St Bride's and in 1703 work on St Bride's was completed, including a 234 foot spire with four octagonal tiers of diminishing size.

The spire of St Bride's, Fleet Street.

Legend has it that an apprentice pastry cook, William Rich, fell in love with his master's daughter. At the end of his apprenticeship Rich set up his own business within sight of St Bride's and gained consent to marry his love. Determined to impress at the wedding breakfast Rich wanted a truly stunning cake and inspired by what he'd seen of St Bride's, created a wedding cake with diminishing tiers…and a tradition was born.

 

With thanks to Cheezburger.com

 Thank you for visiting! If you have enjoyed this post and would like an occaisional newletter about Grace Elliot's new releases or special promotions, please follow the link:

http://eepurl.com/r4R3v

G x

Unofficial London - Knightrider Street.

The winning entry in the 2004

'Places on Maps That Relate to David Hasselhoff'

competition.

Today's blog post considers how medieval Knightrider Street and Knightrider Court, got their names. The etymology of these intriguing streets was mentioned by Stow:
"So called…of Knights well-armed and mounted at the Tower Royal [Tower of London] passing from thence and through that street, west…and hence to Smithfield ….there to turney, joust or to show activities before the King and states of the realm."

Knightrider Street as it appears today.

In other words, this was the route taken by knights on their journey from the Tower of London to Smithfield, to take part in tournaments. The above explanation is doubted by many experts- who fail to offer an alternative explanation!
According to Louis Zetterson in his 1917 book "City Street Names", it certainly seems a street Knyghtriderstrete existed in 1322 but the reason behind the unusual name was already lost even then. Interestingly, on a 1560 map there is a continuation of Knightrider Street, called Giltsword Street and it is hypothesised that this name originated from the golden spurs worn by knights attending the Smithfield jousts.

Here I'm standing in Knightrider Court with my back to
the Thames, facing towards St Pauls Cathedral.

Within sight of St Pauls Cathedral is Knightrider Court, and the story goes that as a mark of respect knights were expected to dismount here to proceed on foot past the holy building. Again, the truth behind this myth is lost to us.

With my back to St Pauls, walking in a straight line from
Knightrider Court, I'm standing on the Millenium Bridge
looking to my left over at The Shard.

Staying in the same area, Ben Johnson's London: a Jacobean Place Name Dictionary, by Prof. Chalfont, sites a road near Knightrider Street, charmingly called Do-Little Lane. This thoroughfare once ran north from Knightrider Street to Carter Lane, just off St Pauls - which is today occupied by Knightrider Court and Sermon Lane.

Again, Stow describes the street in his commentary:

"A place not-inhabited by Artificers, or shop keepers…but serving as a passage from Knightrider Street to Carter Lane."
Another reference is found in the work of the Jacobean playwright, Middleton, "Family of Love", where a character praises a physician as neither:
"The wise-woman of Pissing Lane, nor she in Do-Little Lane, are as famous for good deeds as he."

I'm standing in the same spot as the photo above, but looking right instead of
left, towards Tower Bridge.

All of this set me wondering about the origin of Knightsbridge, that exclusive part of London which is home to Harrods, Harvey Nichols and 275 listed buildings. Apparently in medieval times there was indeed a bridge here, over the river Westbourne (which now runs underground) but agreement ends there.
There are two main theories as to how Knightsbridge got its name. The first involves two knights getting into a fight passing over the bridge, falling in the river and drowning, and the second theory is that the area was synonymous with highwaymen and that it was not safe to pass without a knight as chaperone.

Whatever the explanation, is it me or do street names not have the same resonance these days?  

 

With thanks to Cheezburger.com

 If you have enjoyed this post and would like to recieve bi-monthly news via email of news releases, free promotions and the like, please follow the link to the sign up form.

http://eepurl.com/r4R3v

Unofficial London - Then and Now, Pudding Lane.

"For years there had been warnings of the total destruction of London by fire."

 

This weeks blog post was inspired by a visit to the where The Great Fire of London started - Pudding Lane - to see how it looks today. But first, a little history...

In 1666 the predictions came true and the city of London was devastated by The Great Fire of London. Given the dry summer, close packed timber framed buildings, abundance of hay, and use of candles, this was hardly a surprise. It is now widely acknowledged that the fire started in a bakery in Pudding Lane, but at the time rumours were rife of political intrigue; of the French, or Dutch, or even Catholics setting fire bombs through shop windows to start the conflagration.

 

            It was at 2am on Sunday 2nd September that a workman at Thomas Faryner's bakery, Pudding Lane, near London Bridge, smelt smoke and woke the household. Modern experiments have shown that under certain conditions fine particles of flour suspended in the air can become explosive, and it seems likely just such a cloud came into contact with an ember and did indeed explode. The fire took rapid hold, jumping from building to building with startling speed. The mayor, Sir Thomas Bloodworth, was woken with the news but remained unimpressed.

 "A woman might piss it out."



He was wrong. By dawn part of London Bridge was burning and by the time it was exstinguished on Wednesday 5th September, an estimated 13,000 houses and 89 churches, including the Old St Pauls, had been destroyed.

Samuel Pepys records the experience:  

.. all over the Thames, with one's face in the wind you were almost burned with a shower of Firedrops - this is very true - so as houses were burned by these drops and flakes of fire, three or four, nay five or six houses, one from another. When we could endure no more upon the water, we to a little alehouse on the Bankside over against the Three Cranes, and there stayed till it was dark almost and saw the fire grow; and as it grow darker, appeared more and more, and, in Corners and upon steeples and between churches and houses, as far as we could see up the hill of the city, in a most horrid malicious bloody flame, not like the fine flame of an ordinary fire.
We stayed till, it being darkish, we saw the fire as only one entire arch of fire from this to the other side of the bridge, and in a bow up the hill, for an arch of above a mile long. It made me weep to see it. The churches, houses, and all on fire and flaming at once, and a horrid noise the flames made, and the cracking of houses at their ruin.

 The Great Fire cleared such vaste swathes of buildings that a rebuild of approximately ten million pounds in the 17th century, took place. The fire was commerated by building a monument in 1671, designed by Sir Christopher Wren to mark the regeneration of the city. The Monument was exactly 61 metres tall, which is the distance from the monument to the site of Thomas Faryner's bakery.

 

The Monument in 1794.

So how does the remodelled city appear today?

 

The Monument - there....behind the stack of portakabins!

And Pudding Lane? Surely some great architectural wonders must celebrate perhaps one of the most well-known streets in London? Sadly not...

Here, ladies and gentlemen, is modern day Pudding Lane -
note the portakabins to the left and street sign on the right.
 

But I won't leave you feeling totally desolate about this wasted opportunity, there is at least is one beautiful building to rise out of the ashes, the new St Pauls Cathedral.

 

 

Dr Johnson on Cats.

CAT - "a domestick animal that catches mice, commonly reckoned by naturalists the lowest order of the leonine species."
Dr Johnson's definition from the 1755 dictionary.

 CAT - "small furry domesticated carnivorous quadruped. A spiteful or malicious woman."

Concise Oxford Dictionary 1977.



Hodge's memorial - Gough Square.

When Dr Johnson wrote that cats were 'commonly reckoned' the lowest feline species, it is my opinion he was being ironic - for the great man was a huge fan of cats. During his life he owned (or 'was owned by'!) several cats, of whom the most well-known was Hodge. In fact, so well-known was Johnson's affection for Hodge that a statue of the cat, appropriately seated on a dictionary, is to be found at the far end of Gough Square.

The attic room Johnson worked in (17 Gough Street)

Dr Johnson did most of his work assembling the dictionary, in an attic room at 17 Gough Square.  According to his biographer, James Boswell, Johnson was in fact a cat lover.
"Nor would it be just….to omit the fondness which he [Johnson] shewed for animals which he had taken under his protection."
This kindness extended to visiting the fish market in person, in order to select the best oysters for his cat since he didn’t want to put his servants out.
"I never shall forget the indulgence with which he treated Hodge, his cat: for whom he himself used to go out and buy oysters, lest the servants having that trouble should take a dislike to the poor creature."

A stained glass window at 17 Gough Street, showing the great man.

So did Johnson's partiality for felines colour his dictionary definitions?
How do his definitions compare to the modern equivalent?

Let's take a look and find out.

 To PURR - "To murmur as a cat or leopard in pleasure."

Dr Johnson 1755

 PURR - "Make low continuous vibratory sound expressing pleasure."

Oxford Dictionary -1977

Hmmm, I prefer Johnson's more poetic version, rather than the more scientific explanation.

One, nil to Dr Johnson.

"Purr? That's a tough one. Let me sleep on it."

To LAP - "To feed by quick reciprocations of the tongue."Dr Johnson 1755

 LAP - "To take up liquid by the tongue as a cat does."

Oxford Dictionary 1977.

 Is it just me, or is Johnson's definition more evocative? The Oxford definition is very passive, 'taking up liquid' - how exactly is this done?

Another vote for Johnson, from me.

"Mouse, did someone say mouse?"

MOUSE - "The smallest of all beasts; a little animal haunting houses and corn fields, destroyed by cats."
Dr Johnson 1755

 MOUSE - "Small rodent especially shrew or vole: timid, shy or retiring person."

Oxford Dictionary 1977

This is one of those answers that have you scurrying around the dictionary. If you aren’t sure what a mouse is then you're probably going to be unclear what a rodent, shrew or vole is….

Dr Johnson wins hands down for clarity.

 OK, so I might be biased but it seems to me Johnson's almost poetic language when describing cat-related words exemplifies someone who knows, loves and enjoys observing cats.

Bravo, Dr Johnson, Hodge trained you well!
 

Halloween - Ghostly Dogs.

Photo courtesy of www.hawaiikawaii.net

 

As nights draw in, and the autumn air turns thick with bonfire smoke, the stage is set for the arrival of Halloween ghouls and spooks. These conditions would be perfect for Conan Doyle’s phantom dog, the Hound of the Baskervilles, to set about his chilling work of terror. Does it send a shiver down your spine to learn that Conan Doyle based his deadly hound on a dog from British folklore called the ‘Shuck’?

        From the ‘Black Shuck’ of Orkney to Suffolk and ‘Old Shuck’, stories abound of these ghostly dogs; the size of a Retriever, with blazing eyes. The word ‘Shuck’ is derived from an Old English word ‘Scucca’ meaning a demon, and the Norse believed  a dog baying at night was an omen of death.

Illustration from Conan Doyle's "Hound of the Baskervilles."

Many legends have a 'shuck' dog haunting the gallows as if waiting for a soul to steal. For instance, in 1751 in Tring, Hertfordshire, an old woman was drowned by a chimney sweep because he suspected her to be a witch. He was then found guilty of her murder and sentenced to death by hanging, where upon the gibbet became haunted by a large black dog. The local schoolmaster saw and described it-
‘Eyes of flaming fire, shaggy… and as big a Newfoundland.’
Part of the horror these legends instilled was the fear of losing your soul. Because people believed that the physical body needed proper burial for the soul to be released, any animal that was seen to eat carrion was labelled as evil.


Photo courtesy of Keith Evans.

Black Dog ghosts were widespread in the 15^th century. Warwick Castle was subject to just such an apparition after the Earl of Warwick, antagonised an old woman, Moll Bloxham. She sold butter and milk around the castle precincts but always gave short measures. The locals were too afraid to challenge her, certain she would bewitch them. When the Earl cut off the source of her dairy supplies, Moll swore to haunt him and barricaded herself within the castle tower. Uncertain of how to rid himself of an angry witch the Earl called in three priests. However when they broke down the tower door they found not Moll but a snarling black dog with eyes blazing red and immense fangs. Catching site of the priests the Black Dog jumped from Caesar’s Tower into the river below, and was never seen again.


Warwick Castle - photo courtesy of Martin Dawes

In the reign of King Charles II a ghostly black dog, the Moddey Dhoo (pronounced ‘Mauther Thoo’ in Manx Gaelic) haunted Peel Castle, the Isle of Man. This large black dog wandered the corridors of the castle at night, to settle himself by the guardroom fire. The soldiers believed him to be an evil spirit waiting for an excuse to harm them and so were respectful in his presence. However one night, a drunken guard mocked them all as cowards and set off to lock the castle gates, passing through the darkened chapel, cursing and swearing as he went. Minutes later his compatriots froze with fear at the blood-curdling sound of screaming. He eventually returned but was unable to speak, his face twisted with fear. He died three days later and the dog was never seen again. Interestingly, in 1871, excavations in the castle found the bones of Simon, the Bishop of Man who died in 1247 and was famous for his intolerance of drunkenness. Buried alongside him at his feet was the skeleton of a dog….
All over Europe tales of spectral hounds exist such as ‘Gabriel’s hounds’ in Britain, the ‘Wild Hunt’ from Germany and the Scandinavia ‘Woden’s Hunt.’  The latter are hounds that crossed the sky, not dissimilar from the stories of Cherokee Indians - they describe the Milky Way as ‘Where the dog runs.

From Siberia comes the belief the dogs belonging to the god, Tuli, caused earthquakes. These flea-ridden dogs pulled a sledge through the sky, on which rested the earth. Each time the dogs stopped for a scratch, the earth shook and man was aware of an earthquake.

 

Certain dogs struck fear into the ancient Chinese who believed they could possess their souls. They distrusted the elderly dogs called ‘jen-shih’ or ‘one who imitates a person.’ It was believed they saw and knew too much, granting them power to possess the living and transform people into vampires.

Finally, some dogs were used to break spells and bring good luck. Dog’s blood poured at the village threshold would protect the inhabitants from evil and be a barrier for epidemics.  Three thousand years ago, when a Prince of China undertook a long journey, disturbingly, he would deliberately roll his cart over a dog to crush the poor animal. The blood was said to consecrate the road and the body buried as a sacrifice to the road god for his goodwill. Who knows what ghostly form these sacrificial dogs might then take – the Black Shuck perhaps?

Black dog legends are widespread
and part of local culture.

 

Halloween - Cats and the Undead.

For centuries cats have been linked to the supernatural - and never more so than at Halloween when spirits from the underworld are said to roam the earth. This superstition has its roots in Samhain, a Celtic festival marking the start of winter, when a portal between the spirit and physical worlds briefly opened. The Anglo-Saxons adopted this festival but renamed it 'Halloween', and later the Christian church rebranded it as the eve of All Saints Day. However, folklore in many countries has it that the devil can enter man’s domain throughout the year, using the cat as his agent. 

 

Old English tradition said a cat roaming in a graveyard was in search of a soul to possess and worse still, a cat sitting on a gravestone had claimed the deceased for the devil. Indeed, two cats fighting in a graveyard were interpreted as a battle between an angel and the devil, and in medieval Europe black cats represented the devil and white, a healer.

 During the middle ages in Eastern Europe, it was said that a cat jumping over a corpse transformed the deceased into a vampire, whilst in Northumbria a cat that walked over a body would be killed, so as to preserve the soul of the departed. Remarkably similar superstitions existed in ancient China.  On the death of his owner, a cat would be given away until after the burial. The relatives believed that if the cat leapt over the body, the corpse would rise up and miss its chance of redemption.   

 On a more positive note, the Malayan Jakurs held that on their death, a cat would lead them through the fires of hell, spraying as he went to cool the path to heaven. Likewise the Egyptian Pharaoh, Tutankhamen, was led safely to the underworld by a black cat.

A Norse legend, tells that Freya, the goddess of love and fertility, rode in a chariot pulled by two black cats although the latter were actually horses that had been possessed by the devil. The cats served Freya well for seven years, and at the end of this time were rewarded by being turned into witches – disguised as cats.

Freya- and her cat drawn chariot.

Centuries old insecurities led the cat to be labelled as the witch’s familiar. The Hungarians even specified the age at which this happened and the cat could be spared by incising a crucifix on its skin before it reached seven. Scotland even had its own sinister cat, the Cait Sith or Highland Fairy Cat; more demon than fairy, this monstrous black and white animal with a spot on his chest, was said to be a transformed witch.

 

So strong was the association of cats with witchcraft that in 15^th century Europe they were synonymous as a symbol of evil. Pope Innocent VIII legalised the persecution of witches, and many women who kept cats were tortured. The hysteria spread, harming women and cats was encouraged in the name of ‘casting out the devil.’ When Elizabeth I came to the throne, some Protestants staged mocking ceremonies of this superstition, by filling a wicker dummy of the Pope with cats, which they threw onto a bonfire. The screams of the cats was said to be,
‘The language of the devil from the body of the Holy Father.’
This sick circle continued with Catholics shaving cats' heads, to represent protestant friars, and then hanging the poor animals.

The Ainu (Aboriginal people of Japan) had a much healthier respect, or even fear, of hurting a cat. Their folklore held that a cat would avenge his death by bewitching the killer, causing him to waste away whilst acting like a cat, and die horribly whilst mewing. The Ainu called this possession ‘Meko Pagoat’ or ‘cat punishment.’

A Japanese ghost cat.

The victim could avoid this fate by eating the cat that he had killed. Indeed, it wasn’t too late even if symptoms started to develop, since killing another feline and that one instead could affect a cure!

Consider then the Irish, three hundred years ago, who believed that to kill a cat brought seventeen years bad luck. A man who drowned a cat would himself die by drowning, and a farmer could expect all his cattle to die. Although a broth of boiled cat was said to cure tuberculosis, people were so afraid of the consequences, that they hired professional ‘hit men’ to kill the cat for them and hence take the bad luck.

The last word goes to the Cat-Goblins of Provence. These are spirits that after sunset appear as cats with glowing eyes, who like nothing better than to cause mischief to humans. The traveller is advised to cover his own eyes against them, seek the help of the saints and make for a lighted building – an excellent excuse to find the nearest hostelry in which to recover!
Happy Halloween everyone!

 

Unofficial London - A Very Public Convenience.

 

Where did the expression, 'to spend a penny', come from?

What has 'bumf' to do with toilet paper?

What is the origin of the word, 'sewer'?'

 Exiting Bank tube station, you emerge from into the daylight within sight of two of London's grandest landmarks: The Bank of England and the Royal Exchange. Both are immense and breathtaking, and are also associated with some most unusual history. Today's blog post takes inspiration from the Royal Exchange and its lavatorial connections.

The Royal Exchange.

 Did you know that the first public conveniences to charge were sited beneath the Royal Exchange? The fee was one penny - hence the euphemism: "To spend a penny."  Use of the urinals was free, but a stall-door was unlocked by a coin-operated locking mechanism designed by magician and illusionist, John Nevil Maskelyne.

Illusionist John Maskelyne - who designed the coin-activated
lock on toilet doors.

However, the subject of alerting people to the location of 'public waiting rooms' (another euphemism!) for gentleman was considering so uncomfortable, that it was unthinkable to advertise a 'ladies'. It wasn’t until many years later that the first 'ladies' sign appeared on London streets.

Public conveniences had been around for centuries before this. Perhaps the most well known medieval example was the 'House of Easement' or 'Long House'. This boasted 128 seats in two rows (one for men, the other for women) and was erected by the Mayor of London, Richard Whittington (of pantomime cat fame) in 1419. Use of the toilets was free but no toilet paper was provided. Boys patrolled up and down the ranks of toilets selling torn up pamphlets or 'bum fodder' and it is from this that the word 'bumpf' originates.

Richard Whittington - the 'cat' in the engraving, was first
drawn as a skull - but because of Dick's popular association with
his cat the artist changed it - hence the slightly odd shape!

This 'House of Easement' had the simplest flushing system of all - the tide! Built over the banks of the Thames, the tidal river swept the refuse away out to sea, the journey from riverbank to open water taking between three and eleven weeks. In fact, the word 'sewer' is derived from the 'seaward' i.e. taking the excrement to the sea!

Thomas Crapper.

The 'public necessaries' beneath the Royal Exchange were built in 1854 in response to a Public Health Act. The man responsible for their design, George Jennings, declared:

"The civilisation of a people can be measured by their domestic and sanitary appliances."

Jennings publically crusading for more public toilets which he called 'halting stations.'

A pioneer of water closet construction, his rival was the perhaps more well-known Thomas Crapper, whose name has long since become synonymous lavatories. Indeed, at this time there were thousands of Victorian toilet patents, of which Crapper held just nine. But it was Jennings who installed a splendid gentlemen's lavatory system in John Wesley's Methodist chapel.

Widget is a big fan of cleanliness - and regularly checks
standards are being maintained.

In one of his famous sermons, Wesley exhorted the congregation that:
"Cleanliness is indeed next to Godliness,"
Which must have been music to Jennings ears as he designed ceramic urinals with a helpful bull's eye target, hand basins dressed with marble and wooden cubicles not unlike confessional boxes? The porcelain handles on the pull chain were adored with the helpful instruction, 'pull and let go', perhaps an exhortation to cleanse the soul as well as the body.