Kalendar of Shepherds illustration of September showing harvesting grapes and the astrological signs for Virgo (August 23 – September 22) and Libra (September 23 – October 22)
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.
Star signs for September
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.
Roman personification of Autumn from Lullingstone mosaic
Here is an early 17th Century look at September from the Kalendar of Shepherds – for more on the Kalendar, look at my post here.
From the Kalendar of Shepherds
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.
September from the Kalendar of Shepherds. The last sentence beginning ‘and then is man’ shows the link between September and the beginning of the autumn of life.
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.
Kalendar of Shepherds
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.
Battle of Crécy Jean Froissart’s Chronicles (Wikipedia)
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.
Sketch of statue of Edward III from Westminster Abbey
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.
Aerial view of the battle site according to Google.
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.
Google image with the Crecy in the orange bounded area bottom middle of the screen
Title Page of publication Published 1 February 1980 Archaeometry
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.
Ice House in grounds of Keystone Pub, York, from Doubletree Hilton
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.
Ice House in grounds of Keystone Pub, York
‘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.
Detail of Ice House in grounds of Keystone Pub, York
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.
Blog Page from British Museum showing picture of an ancient Mesopotamian Ice House by a defensive wall.
The Court House, Chipping Campden, poor photo by the Author!
Yesterday, I went back to Chipping Campden, in the Cotswolds, and when passing the Court House (pictured above) I told the story of the disappearance of William Harrison to my group. As I looked at my old ragged notes, I noticed that the disappearance took place on the 16th August. On that day in 1660 70 yr old William Harrison left the Court House where he was the Steward. The Steward went for a 2-mile walk, collecting rents. When he didn’t return, his wife sent out a man servant, John Perry, to bring him home. Neither had returned by the next morning.
Harrison’s son went out to search for his dad, and found John Perry. The two of them searched for Harrison without luck. Meanwhile, Harrison’s neckband and shirt were found with his hat. The clothes were said to be blood stained, but as those who read Sherlock Holmes will know, there was no certain test for blood stains (a test was introduced in the late 19th Century). The identification of blood stains led to suspicion of John Perry. He said he was innocent, but he buckled under questioning, maintaining it was nothing to do with him but claiming his brother and mother murdered Harrison for his money. Perry soon changed his testimony about his brother and mother and eventually pleaded insanity. All three were hanged.
Two years later, Harrison returned home, claiming to have been abducted by pirates and sold into slavery in Turkey before escaping and returning to England.
This is, pretty much, the bones of the story I have told my groups over the last 15 years. But what is wonderful about my job and this ‘Almanac of the Past), is that you get to dig that little bit deeper than the local guidebook. The first new ‘fact’ I discovered was that Harrison was Steward to the Lady Juliana Noel. She has a very prominent monument in St James Church, near the Court House and has long fascinated me. I will write more about her soon, but meanwhile, have a look at my post on her Dad, Baptist Hicks and how the family came to be Lords of the Manor of Chipping Campden.
Back to my new discoveries about the Crime! John Perry, his mother and brother were actually tried twice for the crime. The first judge refused to try them for murder in the absence of the body, and they were encouraged to plead guilty to robbery, as they would then be eligible for an amnesty for first time convictions.
However, another Judge was willing to try them in the absence of a body, and they were, after all, tried for the murder. But having pleaded guilty to robbery (to avoid the risk of being executed), they had no real defence to the charge and were sentenced to be hanged.
Nor was the hanging simple: Joan Perry, the mother, was hanged first because she was said to be a witch who was preventing her sons from pleading guilty. After she was hanged, her sons still maintained their innocence but were hanged nether-the-less. The hangings took place on the hill above Broadway, the highest point of the Cotswolds, where Broadway Tower now stands, and a famous beauty spot. Mother and son were buried under the Gibbet, but John Perry was hanged in chains and kept on display as a warning to others not to follow his example.
As to William Harrison’s story of his abduction, it sounds a little unlikely in rural Gloucestershire. To a modern mind, it seems more likely that he felt the need to leave home, or had some form of breakdown, or did he collude with the Perry’s to steal money from the Noel Estate? I wonder how he reacted when told that three people lost their lives because of him?
But, it has been suggested that Harrison was kidnapped by people involved in the English Civil War who had secrets to keep which Harrison as Steward might have known. He said English people had kidnapped him and put on a ship to America which was attacked by ‘Turkish’ (maybe Barbary Pirates).
The case led to a ‘no body, no murder’ rule which survived until 1954. But in modern times a body is not essential to a successful prosecution for murder, particularly in domestic murder cases, provided there is sufficient evidence to prove the case.
The case is normally referred to as ‘The Chipping Campden Wonder’ and it has often been written about, for example by Linda Stratmann. I have been wondering why it was so named, there being nothing wonderful about a murder or an abduction. But I have just found a ballad that was written about the case that might explain it. This claims that Joan Perry was indeed a witch, Harrison was attacked and buried in a pit but was, somehow, magically conveyed to Turkey, from which he eventually escaped to return to Chipping Campden. The Wonder is presumably the saving of Harrison and transportation to Turkey? The ballad clarifies that there was therefore no miscarriage of justice, as the Perrys were involved with diabolical doings, and that the Grace of God saved Harrison despite the best efforts of the Perrys.
‘Amongst those wonders which on early are shown, In any age there seldom hath béen known, A thing more strange then that which this Relation, Doth here present unto your observation. In Glocestershire as many know full well, At Camben Town a Gentleman did dwell, One Mr. William Harrison by name, A Stewart to a Lady of great fame.
A Widdow likewise in the Town there was, A wick wretch who brought strange things to pass, So wonderful that some will scarce receive, […]hese lines for truth nor yet my words beleive.
[…] such as unto Cambden do resort, Have surely found this is no false report, Though many lies are dayly now invented, This is as true a Song as ere was Printed.
Therefore unto the story now give ear, This Widow Pery as it doth appear, And her two sons all fully were agréed, Against their friend to work a wicked déed.
One of her Sons even from a youth did dwell, With Mr. Harrison who loved him well, And bred him up his Mother being poor, But sée how he requited him therefore.
For taking notice that his Master went, Abroad to gather in his Ladies rent, And by that means it was an usual thing, For him great store of money home to bring.
He thereupon with his mischevous mother, And likewise with his vile ungodly Brother, Contriv’d to rob his Master, for these base And cruel wretches were past shame and grace.
One night they met him comming into Town, And in a barbarous manner knockt him down, Then taking all his money quite away, His body out of sight they did convey.
But being all suspected for this déed, They apprehended were and sent with spéed, To Glocester Goal and there upon their Tryal, Were guilty found for all their stiff denyal.
Jt was supposed the Gentleman was dead, And by these wretches robd and Murthered, Therefore they were all thrée condem’d to death, And eke on Broadway-hill they lost their breath.
One of the Sons was buried with his Mother, Vnder the Gibbet, but the other Brother, That serv’d the Gentleman was hang’d in Chains, And there some part of him as yet remains.
But yet before they died they did proclaim Even in the ears of those that thither came, That Mr. Harison yet living was And would be found in less then seven years space.
Which words of theirs for truth do now appear For tis but two year since they hanged were, And now the Gentleman alive is found Which news is publisht through the Countrys round
But lest that any of this truth shall doubt, Ile tell you how the business came about This Widow Pery as tis plainly shown Was then a Witch although it was not known.
So when these Villains by their mothers aid Had knockt him down (even as before was said) They took away his money every whit, And then his body cast into a pit.
He scarce was come unto himself before Another wonder did amaze him more, For whilst he lookt about, he found that he Was suddainly conveyd unto the Sea.
First on the shore he stood a little space And thence unto a rock transported was, Where he four days and nights did then remain And never thought to see his friends again.
But as a Turkish ship was passing by Some of the men the Gentleman did spy, And took him in and as I understand, They carried him into the Turkish Land.
And there (not knowing of his sad disaster) They quickly did provide for him a Master, A Surgeon or of some such like profession, Whose service he performed with much discretion.
It séems in gathering Hearbs he had good skill, And could the same excéeding well distil, Which to his Master great content did give, And pleas’d him well so long as he did live.
But he soon dyd, and at his death he gave him, A piece of plate that so none should enslave him, But that his liberty be might obtain, To come into his native land again.
And thus this Gentleman his fréedom wrought; And by a Turky Ship from thence was brought; To Portugal, and now both safe and sound, He is at length arrived on English ground.
Let not this séem incredible to any, Because it is a thing afirmed by many, This is no feigned story, though tis new, But as tis very strange tis very true.
You sée how far a Witches power extends, When as to wickedness her mind she bends, Great is her Malice, yet can God restrain her, And at his pleasure let her loose or chain her.
If God had let her work her utmost spight, No doubt she would have kild the man outright, But he is saved and she for all her malice, Was very justly hang’d upon the Gallows.
Then let all praise to God alone be given, By men on earth as by the Saints in heaven, He by his mercy dayly doth befriend us, And by his power he will still defend us.’
Screenshot concerning the new Logo of the Museum of London
I was quite surprised to see the image above appear in an email to my inbox. The London Museum (was the Museum of London) announced the Pigeon and Splat as the new logo to replace the old Dick Whittington one. I received the email on the 27th July 2024.
Is this a breath of fresh air? An unfussy humourous joke which 5 year old will love? Is a Pigeon uniquely London? Is the Splat too clever by half, or is it completely daft?
I’ll leave it to you to decide. However, a visit to the London Museum Website on 15/08/24 reveals the Pigeon logo displayed without the Splat!
Screenshot of London Museum’s new logo without the Splat!
Further down the page, is an article on the history of Pigeons and London, where there is a vestigial splat!
It seems to me there has been a climb down since I received the email on 27th July. Or are they phasing the Splat! in? Comments please.
For more on the new logo look at the Museums Associations’s Web site here. ‘The pigeon was chosen to symbolise the brand as “an impartial and humble observer of London life”, the museum said in a blog post on the redesign.’
Screenshot from the London Museum Web site with image of a Pigeon with a vestigial Splat!
The ‘Agas’Map of 16th Century Map of London showing the Abbey of the Minoresses of St Clare with the yellow circle and St Botolphs in mauve just outside Aldgate. from the Map of Early Modern London project.
Today is the Feast day of St Clare of Assisi. An area of London, called the Minories, is still to this day named after the Abbey of the Minoresses of St. Clare without Aldgate which was founded in 1294. The Abbey was part of the Order of St Clare or the Poor Clares as they were known . A minoress was a nun from the Order of Friars Minor (aka Franciscans) .who were also known as the Minoresses of St Clare.
Fresco of Saint Clare and sisters of her order, church of San Damiano, Assisi Wikipedia
Clare Sciffi was born in Assisi to a rich family. On Palm Sunday, 20 March 1212 Clare left her house, after refusing offers of advantageous marriage. She had been inspired by hearing St Francis the founder of the Franciscan Monks who was also from Assisi. St Francis facilitated her transfer to Benedictine Nunneries. Her sisters followed her, one renamed Agnes became an Abbess and eventually a saint in her own right. Her family tried repeatedely to take her back into secular life, but eventually gave in, apparently when they saw that she had cut her flowing locks off and donned a plain robe.
A small nunnery was set up for them next to the church of San Damiano, additional women joined, and they became known as the “Poor Ladies of San Damiano”. They undertook to live in poverty, and seclusion.
The Franciscan friars were an itinerant order where the Friars preached to the people and were supported by begging. But this was not possible for women at that time so they lived a simple life of labour and prayer.:
‘The nuns went barefoot, slept on the ground, ate no meat, and observed almost complete silence.’ Wikipedia
Here are a couple of sites which take the story further.
My WordPress system decided to publish my notes upon the Parrot rather than reminding me to finish off the page. So, here is the updated post again.
The Parrot was republished for free on August 4th 2024 by the York St Johns University Critical Editions team, and they have enabled you to get your free copy by following the link at the bottom of the post.
Published in 1746 ‘The Parrot’ by Elizabeth Haywood was a satire on the male-dominated London Society of the time. It was published in 9 parts. The name comes from the viewpoint from a Parrot’s perch in a wealthy London house. The Parrot is an enslaved creature that has travelled the world, observer to its follies. The bird wonders why people should dismiss opinions simply on the basis of A Parrot’s green colour.
The introduction to the author by the team says:
‘Eliza Haywood (c. 1693-1756) was one of the first generation of writers to “live by her pen.” Throughout her career, Haywood adopted many roles: she was an actress, playwright, novelist and prolific essayist.However, she always used her platform to celebrate and advocate for women.‘
