On September 15th 1940 Ray Holmes, World War 2 RAF Pilot, flying a Hurricane, took on three Luftwaffe Bombers over Central London. He shot one down, chased another off and engaged the third which seemed to be heading for Buckingham Palace. Between the 8th and 13th of September 1940, the Palace had been hit 5 times. The London Blitz had only ‘begun’ on September 7th though the first raid on the City of London was on the 25th August on Fore Street.
Holmes, by now had ran out of bullets, but deliberately targeted the fin of the Dornier bomber, and crashed into it causing the bomber to spiral down into Victoria Station. Holmes’ hurricane, spiralled down out of control, but he was able to bail out and landed in a dustbin, much to the bemusement of the locals. Holmes died aged 90 in 2005.
This post is heavily based on the story below, which is told in full detail.
I am working on a booklist for Edinburgh, one of my favourite towns, and this was to be my Edinburgh Booklist post. But the first book has expanded to fill the space.
It is by Ian Rankin and one of the Inspector Rebus series. What makes Rankin a great crime writer is how the author makes Edinburgh central to the story. It adds realism to his stories and as you read the stories you enjoy learning about Edinburgh, its cultural, its history, its people, its streets and its topography. And get insights into Edinburgh’s moods.
I haven’t read all the Rebus books but the one I want to feature is ‘Set in Darkness’ published in 2000. It is set in the period immediately after the success of the Scottish Referendum to set up a Scottish Parliament. The story also takes us back to 1979 when the first Scottish Referendum ‘failed’.
It begins with a body found in Queensbury House, which is being preserved and incorporated into the new Scottish Parliament buildings.
This setting was suggested by the well-known tale of the Queensberry House Cannibal; James Douglas the 3rd Marquess of Queensberry and, for a time, the Earl of Drumlanrig. On the day, in 1707, that the Scottish Parliament agreed to disband itself and voted for an Act of Union with the United Kingdom, the young Lord was left alone in Queensbury House with no one to look after him, except a kitchen boy. James had mental issues, and when the adults came home, they discovered him eating the kitchen boy whom Douglas had spit-roasted in the oven. The ghost of the boy is said to haunt the house. Or so the story goes. It’s always treated as a true story, but there is a suspicion it was a black calumny on those who agreed to the end of the Scottish Parliament.
For more on the event, look here. As you can see, Rankin’s book is keyed into Edinburgh’s deep history as well as contemporary political events.
So, as today (11th September 1997) is the anniversary of the day the Scots voted Yes to a restoration of its Parliament, let’s have a look at the long history of devolution. We will take the story backwards.
The referendum asked the Scots two questions. The first was: did they support a separate Parliament for Scotland? The second. Should it have the power to vary levels of taxation? 74.3% voted yes to the Parliament, and 63.5% voted yes for powers of taxation. On the 1st July 1999 the Scottish Parliament was set up by the Blair Government.
In 1979, the Scottish Act set up a referendum for a Scottish assembly. It was won with a majority of 52%, but an amendment to the Act had a stipulation that there had to be a vote of at least 40% of the registered electorate for the vote to succeed. It won only 32% of the 62% turnout so failed. (if only Cameron had done something similar for the Brexit Referendum!).
So it would be another almost 20 years before the Scots got their own debating chamber.
The Scots lost their Parliament on the 1st May 1707 when the Act of Union with England was enacted. The Scottish Parliament had been in existence since the early 13th Century. The Scots had no House of Commons, but its unicameral Parliament had representatives from the Three Estates: prelates representing the Church; Aristocrats representing the nobility, and Burgh Commissioners representing the Towns. Later, Shire Commissioners were added to represent the countryside.
The decision to disband the Parliament of Scotland was very controversial, and blamed on the self-interest of the Nobility against the wishes of the people. Scotland had lost out on the huge profits being made by the Empire by England, excluded as the Scots were by the Navigation Acts from trading freely within the British Empire. So the Scots set up their own Company of Scotland Trading to Africa and the Indies which invested in the disastrous Darién scheme, The idea was to build a colony on the Isthmus of Panama. 80% of the participants in the settlement died, and the 20% of Scottish wealth which was invested in the scheme was lost. Many of the Scottish members of Parliament lost money in the Scheme and compensation and bribery offered by the English encouraged the Parliamentarians to accept the advantages of free trade within the British Empire and to join the Westminster Parliament
In 1603, the Scottish and English monarchies joined in the person of James VI of Scotland and James 1st of England on the death of his childless aunt, Queen Elizabeth 1. But the Scots kept their own Parliament and legal system. There were attempts to bring a closer Union, but these all failed until 1707.
On the night of September 8th, Kapitanleutnant Heinrich Mathy piloted Zeppelin L 13 across Central London, dropping bombs as they went. The trail of destruction led from University College London, via Russell Sq. to Gray’s Inn Farringdon, Smithfield and out past Liverpool Street to the East End.
Before World War One London was the centre of the largest Empire the world had ever known. It was the first great era of globalisation; international trade and Finance was booming. London was full of the mega-rich, but poverty and substandard housing was extensive. Inner London was still the home of Industry, and home to large immigrant communities. Political dissent was widespread, with the Labour Party beginning to erode the Liberal Party’s power base, and the issue of Female Suffragette was rocking society. Then, catastrophe as ‘the lights went out all over Europe’.
On October 1 1916, Mathy’s L31 Zeppelin burst into flames after attack by the Royal Flying Corp, and near Cuffley, Potters Bar he decided to jump out. He was found by farmers still alive and lying face up but died soon after.
Here, is a podcast originally written for a Zeppelin Walk for London Walks. It includes an eyewitness account by Hugh Turpin of the shooting down of the Zeppelin. Please ignore the dates of walks, as this was a couple of years ago. But I am planning to repeat the virtual tour during the winter of 2024. I hope to revise this post for the October 1st anniversary.
The Master of St Giles, National Gallery. ‘St Giles and the Hind’ This work is in the public domain in its country of origin and other countries and areas where the copyright term is the author’s life plus 100 years or fewer.
Today, is St Giles’ Feast Day. His story is mostly unknown, but he was thought to be a hermit who had a pet Hind in the Arles District of France perhaps in the 9th Century. The hounds of King Wamba (a Visigothic King) were chasing the deer, and shot an arrow into the undergrowth. The King and his men followed to discover Giles wounded by the arrow, protecting the hind, who he held in his arms. The hounds were miraculously stayed motionless as they leaped towards the hind. Wamba apparently means ‘Big paunch’ in Gothic. He was also called Flavius. Giles was injured in the leg, although the image above shows the arrow in his hand.
St Giles is, therefore, the patron saint of disabled people. He was very popular in medieval Britain, with over 150 churches dedicated to him, including four in London. Perhaps the two most famous are St Giles Without Cripplegate in London and St Giles Cathedral in Edinburgh.
St Giles Cripplegate was built in the 11th Century, and rebuilt in the 14th Century and again in 1545-50 after nearly being destroyed by fire. It survived the Great Fire of London, being just beyond the extent of the Fire. It was badly damaged in the Blitz, but the Tower and the outer walls survived. Oliver Cromwell married Elizabeth Bourchier here. John Foxe of the Book of Martyrs, John Speed, the Cartographer, Martin Frobisher and John Milton were buried here. Milton’s coffin was opened in 1793 and he was said to have looked as if he had just been buried. One of those present, then tried to pull Milton’s teeth out, which a bystander helped by hitting them with a stone. The few teeth Milton had left in his head were divided between the men, who also took a rib bone and locks of his hair. The Caretaker then opened the coffin for anyone who wanted to see the corpse!
Cripplegate, one of the Gates in the City Wall (originally the North Gate of the Roman Fort) may be named because it was a good place to gather for those trying to beg alms for their disabilities. Although it has also been said that there was an underground tunnel from the Gate’s Barbican to the Gate which in Anglo Saxon is a Crepel. Or because of the cure of cripples when Edmund the Martyr’s remains passed through the gate in 1010.
It is that time of the year when you say ‘Where has the Summer gone? It can’t be September already?’ But, metrologically speaking, Autumn starts today. September 1st was chosen on a numerical basis for ease of measuring rather than any profound floral, agricultural or solar reason. So, there are three Gregorian Calendar months for each season, and each season starts on the first of the month. Autumn comes from Latin (autumnus) which went into French and then into English. The season was also called Harvest (which went into Dutch herfst, German Herbst, and Scots hairst -Wikipedia) or from the 16th Century the ‘fall of the year’ or ‘fall of the leaf’ which spread to America.
It still feels like summer this year, with flowers doing well in my garden and not looking too tired. In England, we often have a glorious September, and an ‘Indian’ Summer.
Of course, for the real Autumn, we have to wait for the Equinox, the beginning of Astronomical or Solar Autumn. This year (2024) on September 22nd.
The stars signs for astrological September are: Virgo which is linked to Aphrodite (Venus) the Goddess of Love and Libra is linked to Artemis (Diana), virgin goddess of many things, including hunting, wild animals, children, and birth.
September gets its name from the Romans, for whom it was the 7th Month of the year (septem is Latin for seven). Later, they added two new months so it became our 9th Month. (For more on the Roman year, look at my post here).
It is called Halegmonath in the early English language, or the holy month, named because it is the month of offerings, because of the harvest, and the mellow fruitfulness of September? Medi in Welsh is the month of reaping, and An Sultuine in Gaelic which means the month of plenty.
Here is an early 17th Century look at September from the Kalendar of Shepherds – for more on the Kalendar, look at my post here.
The Kalendar has an additional shorter look at September and continues with its linking of the 12 months of the year with the lifespan of a man – 6 years for each month. So September is a metaphor for man at 56 years of age, in their prime and preparing for old age.
Keats (1795 – 1821) wrote a great poem about Autumn:
To Autumn
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers: And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook; Or by a cider-press, with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,— While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft, And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
Written September 19, 1819; first published in 1820. This poem is in the public domain and available here:
I am finishing my post on September, and using the Kalendar of Shepherds. As you may have noticed, I often use the Kalendar of Shepherds to provide an insight into how the seasons were seen in the past. Mostly, I use it for the posts at the beginning of each month. I have created this page as a placeholder to put information on the Kalendar for anyone who is eager to explore it more or to make use of it. Each month I will link to it, so I do not have to repeat the basic information about the Kalendar. Much of this text was contained in the December post, and I have used this month as my example. Tomorrow, you will get the September version.
About the Kalendar of Shepherds.
The Kalendar was printed in 1493 in Paris and provided ‘Devices for the 12 Months.’ I’m using a modern (1908) reconstruction of it using wood cuts from the original 15th Century version and adding various text from 16th and 17th Century sources. (Couplets by Tusser ‘Five Hundred Parts of Good Husbandrie 1599, and text descriptions of the month from Nicholas Breton’s ‘Fantasticks of 1626. This provides an interesting view of what was going on in the countryside every month.
The Kalendar of Shepherds has an illustration for each month (December above) which shows typical activities for the time of year, and has inserts to identify the astrological signs of the month. So, in December they are baking and collecting firewood. The star signs are Sagittarius (November 22 – December 21) and Capricorn(December 22 – January 19).
The text below gives a vivid description of December weather and then elaborates on the last six years of a man’s life, with hair going white, body ‘crooked and feeble’. The conceit here is that there are twelve months of the year, and a man’s lot of ‘Six score years and ten’ is allocated six years to each month. So December is not just about the 12th months of the Year but also the last six years of a person’s allotted span. The piece allows the option of living beyond 72, ‘and if he lives any more, it is by his good guiding and dieting in his youth.’ Good advice, as we now know. But living to 100 is open to but few.
The longer description of December (shown below) is by Breton (1626) and gives a detailed look at the excesses of Christmas, who is on holiday, and who working particularly hard. But it concludes it is a costly month.
The Battle of Crécy was one of the most decisive victories in the Middle Ages. King Philip VI of France declared the English land in France forfeit. Henry, Earl of Derby made significant gains in Gascony for King Edward III but then was besieged by the French and demanded support. King Edward gathered an army and landed in Normandy, and burnt his way to Paris. Within 2 miles of Paris Edward was confronted by superior forces and trapped on the wrong side of the Somme, his army starved by the French scorched earth policy.
The starving English, only 6 miles away from the French Army forced their way across a defended tidal ford and broke into an area which had not been scorched and were able to resupply. The victory also restored English moral as the French defenders could not stand against the longbow men.
King Edward set up a defensive position at Crecy-en-Ponthieu, on land he owned. It offered protection from flanking attacks and an uphill struggle for the French attackers. The English dug pits to make french attacks more difficult. The English were badly outnumbered.
The first attack came from Genoese crossbowmen but the English and Welsh longbow men had the advantage of range and the Italians soon retreated. French men-at-arms attacked in some confusion, killing Genoese as they attacked but were repulsed after terrible fighting. Wave after wave of French attacks followed. None succeeding. At the end of the two day battle very few English men were killed and many thousands of French, including the flower of the nobility.
English losses were 300 or less and the French lost are estimated as 30,000.
The battle changed opinions about British fighting ability, and showed that heavily armoured wealthy knights could not stand against trained yeoman archers armed with long bows.
But it can also be argued that the victory lulled the English into the belief that they could hold France and led to the fruitless slaughter of the 100 years war which England ultimately lost.
On the other hand Edward III captured Calais which remained an important and strategic asset until the 16th Century.
Today is the day that the World Wide Web was first introduced to the world. I was working as a freelancer at the Freud Museum, in London. The Freud Museum was funded by an American organisation who wanted to support the history of Freud and Psychoanalysis. They were early adopters of email, and one of the staff, Tony Clayton, I think, introduced me to this new thing called the World Wide Web. How soon it changed our lives!
So, this post was to be the first in an occasional series on my role in digital heritage. But it spiralled out of control as if I were writing a multi-volume history of the early use of Computers in Archaeology and Museums.
I’m not, but this is the first of an occasional series that digs into the past of digital.
My use of computers began in 1975/6 when I worked in the Research Laboratory for Archaeology and the History of Art, Keble College, Oxford University. I was a Research Assistant working with Mike Barbetti who was a Research Fellow from Australia and an expert on the science of the earth’s magnetic field and a pioneer in archaeomagnetism.
So what was it all about? In short, the Magnetic Pole does not always point due north. From time to time, it wanders around and sometimes reverses completely. Also, the intensity of the magnetic field changes with time. Mike was interested in the science behind these reversals but also interested in the archaeological by-products of the findings.
We were using archaeology to get well dated samples to plot accurately magnetic fluctuations through time. it was hoped the changes in direction or intensity of the magnetic field would allow archaeological sites to be dated. Secondly, we could use the readings to determine if clay deposits had been heated or not. The iron particles in clay would, when heated, align to the contemporary magnetic field. Mike had collected samples from Africa including Olduvai Gorge and we contributed to the discussions on the first use of fire by the genus homo.
It turned out that dating applications were, however severally limited, as it proved impossible to create an effective reference curve. But from time to time, a use for archaeomagnetism crops up in the literature.
Mike was kind enough to include me as joint author on 3 papers which were accepted by Nature and which remain my most cited papers.
When I thanked him saying how kind it was for him to include me. He made a point of telling me I had every right to have my name on the papers as I not only did a lot of the work but I contributed ideas to the study.
He taught me a lesson that you should always be generous acknowledging contributions.
The specimens were encased in plaster of Paris, I went to a shed in the garden of the terrace house that was the Research Lab, and cut them up up with a saw. We then measured the intensity and direction of the magnetic field in the samples. The results were processed by a computer program written by Mike. I prepared the experimental results on magnetic cards and uploaded them for a data run on the main frame computer at the Oxford University Computer Centre. The Computers were the size of a house, but there was a Unix minicomputer in the basement of our lab. There was always mistakes on the first run and then you reran the programme with edit cards at the front which were coded to do things like: ‘change 127 on the first card to 172’. The corrected results were rerun the next day.
Seems very primitive and slow now but then it was cutting edge technology!
After a couple of years I began my career as a field archaeologist. Having seen how powerful computers could be I decided, in the late 1970’s, that Archaeology needed computers. So I set out to find out how to use them for myself and where they might come in useful. This took me on an exciting journey of exploration which began with signing up for a Part-time PhD at Birkbeck College in Computer Applications in Archaeology, while I continued working at the Museum of London as an archaeologist.
Last year, from my hotel room in York, I noticed a strange brick building dug into the bank in front of the City Wall, near Monk Bar. ‘Very curious.’ I thought, as I looked, ‘It’s either a kiln or an Icehouse. ‘ A ridiculous place for a kiln, I concluded, and as the weather was nice, I went out to explore.
By Monk Bar (Bar means Gate in York) I found a pub called the Keystones, and through its yard I could see the round brick structure, you can see below.
‘Icehouse!’ I thought to myself with increasing confidence, and the ladder to the cavernous conical hole beneath it proved the point. It dates to about 1800.
I wrote a brief history of Ice Houses in November 2022, which you can read in my post ‘How to Make a Dish of Snow’ here. But it doesn’t say much about ice cream. I have been meaning to write a piece on that subject since I got a great article on the history of Ice Cream from the Friends of the British Museum magazine. I intended to précis it and do a little research and include here. But, in the meantime, I received an email from ‘Jetpack’, a plugin for WordPress users, that offered me an AI plugin, which I wanted to try. So this is the first AI generated piece of information I have ever used.
WARNING AI GENERATED TEXT!
Ice cream has a long and fascinating history. It’s believed that the ancient Chinese were the first people to eat a form of ice cream, flavoured with fruit and honey. The Persians also had a version of ice cream using ice and grape syrup. In the 13th century, Marco Polo brought the idea of ice cream to Europe from China. The dessert became popular in Italy, where early recipes called for flavoured snow and ice. By the 18th century, ice cream was regularly served in English and American households. Today, ice cream is enjoyed all over the world in many variations and with a plethora of flavours.
JetPack AI Generated (I’ve improved spelling and grammar.)
Now, settle yourself down with that pistachio and ciocolata gelato and read real writing on the subject of the origins of Ice Cream from the British Museum, and please note that the ice house pictured below is also, weirdly, just by a City Wall, but this time in Mesopotamia.