Sandals of the Saints

Copy of the Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinca at the Collection Gallery, Royal Academy, UK
(Copy made 1515-1520, and was in the Carthusian Monsatery at Pavia in the 17th Century before being brought to the RA in the 19th Century)

Whilst visiting Flaming June at the RA, it was nice to have another look at the Last Supper. What strikes me most is their sandals (and the beautifully pressed table cloth).

Detail of the RA copy of the Last Supper

Details that bring the past to life. The shoes would surely sell today, while the table cloth really destroys the common idea that the past was dirty and smelly. It wasn’t. People took pride in their appearance and surroundings. Just look at the ironing!

Here, by way of contrast, is a medieval shoe from the 14th Century from the Museum of London. And this is a link to the Museum of London’s collections of medieval shoes, most have been collected from excavations, and it is one of the best collections.

Discovering Mary Beale in Pall Mall, Flaming June in Piccadilly

Philip Mould Galley,Bond Street.The home of painter Mary Beale

Yesterday, I was asked to do two Jane Austen’s London walks.  The walk explores Mayfair, where her brother, Henry lived and had his Bank, and where Austen placed the central drama of Sense and Sensibility. I decided to use the time between the walks to look for a shopping mall which dates back to Jane Austen’s time, but I got diverted as I saw a sign for a free exhibition on Mary Beale in Pall Mall. 

Mary Beale is that rare beast; a professional female artist of the 17th Century (1633-1699). So, I double-checked the ‘free entry’ notice because this was a posh West End private art gallery and the name Philip Mould was familiar.  I went in and realised that this was something special. I returned to the entrance to ask the very friendly staff whether I could take photographs.  ‘Yes, of course, they said.’ much to my surprise.

Mary Beale Exhibition sign.

Downstairs, the art of Mary Beale was beautifully displayed, and the exhibition had a very interesting story to tell, which was well-told, using excellent labels and a film narrated by Philip Mould.  He was, as I thought, the co-presenter of ‘Fake or Fortune’ (with Fiona Bruce, newsreader and anchor of the BBC’s Antiques Roadshow). This is a BBC art programme which is in its 12th Series. The conceit of the show is that they investigate dubious paintings to find out whether they are genuine or not.

The film revealed that Philip Mould opened his Art Gallery here over a decade ago, but research has recently discovered that this is the very address where Mary Beale had her studio.

Scene shot of Philip Mould in the Mary Beale Exhibition in his short film shot in his Art Gallery.

Her career is not only remarkable in itself, but it was recorded in great detail by her husband. She was the bread winner.  He was her partner, and in effect the studio manager. In correspondence, he describes her as his ‘dearest heart’. 

Self-Portrait of Mary, with her husband and son

It was a family business and their children also worked as painting assistants, doing draperies and other background details.   Her paintings gave them an income of around £200 a year, which is not riches but, by comparison, a labourer got about £30 a year.

She was associated with Sir Peter Lely, the Court painter who succeeded Van Dyke. Mary Beale made copies of many of his paintings.  She also painted many pictures of her family.

Mary Beale’s painting after Sir Peter Lely’s portrait of Charles II

There are several excellent short films about Mary Beale on the Gallery’s web site, which is well worth a visit. The exhibition ends on the 19th July, but there is also, for you to see, Tate Britain’s exhibition ‘Now you see us’ which is the story of British female artists from the 1520’s to 1920.

On the way back from the Gallery, I popped into the Royal Academy to renew an old acquaintance with ‘Flaming June’ by Lord Leighton, a copy of which hangs on my bedroom wall, and which is on one of its rare visits to the UK. There is also the statue of the Sluggard and it’s all free to view.

Flaming June by Lord Leighton
The Sluggard by Lord Leighton

It is days like this, that you realise what a wonderful thing it is to live in London. All this superb art, and all without laying out a penny (travelling on my free travel pass too!).

I wrote about Flaming June in a post you can read here.

World’s First ATM Honoured. Digital Heritage June 27th 1967

Screenshot from Londonist Web Page

On the 10th April 2023, Heritage England announced on its webpage, that they had listed a Bank which contained the world’s first ATM Machine. Barclays Bank chose its Enfield Branch for this honour which opened on 27th June 1967. Above, you will see local celebrity, Reg Varney (in hat), a star of a very popular and ‘corny’ sitcom called ‘On the Buses.’ opening the new machine. It miraculously delivered a £10 note without any human intervention, and offered access to money after banking hours.

1967 Ten pound note

Barclay’s had previously launched the UK’s first credit card, and selected Enfield to be the place where they launched an automatic machine to dispense money – nicknamed ‘money machines’ in the UK. The customer was issued a ‘punched card’ and had to enter a PIN for the magic to be initiated. Barclays were developing the idea of a magnetic strip on a card at the same time.

Google Street View image of the Enfield Barclays Bank (screenprinted 15/07/23)
Google Street View image of the Enfield Barclays Bank (screenprinted 15/07/23)

The building, which has a plaque and a gold-painted modern ATM, is Grade II listed and so should be protected from development in future. The building itself is an interesting, almost typical, late Victorian red brick commercial building, with fine details in the Flemish Renaissance style by William Gilbee Scott. Scott lived in Enfield.

I look forward to visiting it on my next visit to Enfield Lock on my narrow boat Mrs Towser.

First published in June 2023 and republished in 2024

Festival of St John the Baptist June 24th

The Feast Days of St John the Baptist (June 24th) and of St Peter and Paul (29th June) What is remarkable is the scale and the expense of the celebrations.

These Saints are some of the most important in the Christian Calendar. John being the forerunner to Jesus and his cousin, and Peter and Paul being the apostles who, more than anyone else, created the Christian Church.

There are also pagan rituals associated with the Feast of St John. Here is an example of French pagan solstice fires:

“They were lit at the crossroads in the fields to prevent witches and sorceresses from passing through during the night; herbs gathered on Saint John’s Day were sometimes burned to ward off lightning, thunder and storms, and it was thought that these fumigations would ward off demons and tumults.”

For more information, have a look at ‘French Moments’ here:

The Feast of St John is often described as being on the Summer Solstice, it isn’t by modern reckoning, but nor is December 25th the Winter Solstice. But they were celebrated as such by Christians, and the Solstice can be thought of as spread over 3 or 4 days (or more if taking into account Solstice Old style). The major events of the sun and the moon were linked into Christian theology and symbolism. Jesus, son of God, would clearly have arrived at the auspicious time of the Winter Solstice. His cousin, John the Baptist, came to tell the world about the coming of Jesus and so his birthday was exactly 6 months before the Summer Solstice.

St John is also special as most Saint’s Days are linked to the day of their death, but June 24th is the birthday of St John. His beheading by Herod is commemorated on 29th August.

St John the Baptist upon Walbrook in the City of London is first mentioned in the 12th Century, burnt down and not rebuilt after the Great Fire of London. The parish was, later, united with St Antholin, Budge Row, The Graveyard survived until 1884 when the District Line destroyed most of the Graveyard and the bones were reinterred below a monument, which can still be seen in Cloak Lane.

Here is what John Stow tells us about the processions on the night before the feast of St John (24th June) and St Peter and Paul (29th June):

On the vigil of St. John the Baptist, and on St. Peter and Paul the Apostles, every man’s door being shadowed with green birch, long fennel, St. John’s wort, orpin, white lilies, and such like, garnished upon with garlands of beautiful flowers, had also lamps of glass, with oil burning in them all the night; some hung out branches of iron curiously wrought, containing hundreds of lamps alight at once, which made a goodly show, namely in New Fish street, Thames street, etc.

Then had ye besides the standing watches all in bright harness, in every ward and street of this city and suburbs, a marching watch, that passed through the principal streets thereof, to wit, from the little conduit by Paule’s gate to West Cheape, by the stocks through Cornhill, by Leaden hall to Aldgate, then back down Fenchurch street, by Grasse church, about Grasse church conduit, and up Grasse church street into Cornhill, and through it into West Cheape again.

Grasse Church Street is Gracechurch Street.

The whole way for this marching watch extendeth to three thousand two hundred tailor’s yards of assize; for the furniture whereof with lights, there were appointed seven hundred cressets, five hundred of them being found by the companies, the other two hundred by the chamber of London.

Note a cresset is: a ‘metal container of oil, grease, wood, or coal set alight for illumination and typically mounted on a pole’ (Wikipedia).

Besides the which lights every constable in London, in number more than two hundred and forty, had his cresset: the charge of every cresset was in light two shillings and four pence, and every cresset had two men, one to bear or hold it, another to bear a bag with light, and to serve it, so that the poor men pertaining to the cressets, taking wages, besides that every one had a straw hat, with a badge painted, and his breakfast in the mornings amounted in number to almost two thousand.

The marching watch contained in number about two thousand men, part of them being old soldiers of skill, to be captains, lieutenants, serjeants, corporals, etc., wiflers, drummers, and fifes, standard and ensign bearers, sword players, trumpeters on horseback, demilances on great horses, gunners with hand guns, or half hakes, archers in coats of white fustian, signed on the breast and back with the arms of the city, their bows bent in their hands, with sheaves of arrows by their sides, pike-men in bright corslets, burganets, etc., halberds, the like bill-men in almaine rivets, and apernes of mail in great number;

there were also divers pageants, morris dancers, constables, the one-half, which was one hundred and twenty, on St. John’s eve, the other half on St. Peter’s eve, in bright harness, some overgilt, and every one a jornet of scarlet thereupon, and a chain of gold, his henchman following him, his minstrels before him, and his cresset light passing by him, the waits of the city, the mayor’s officers for his guard before him, all in a livery of worsted, or say jackets party-coloured, the mayor himself well mounted on horseback, the swordbearer before him in fair armour well mounted also, the mayor’s footmen, and the like torch bearers about him, henchmen twain upon great stirring horses, following him.

The sheriffs’ watches came one after the other in like order, but not so large in number as the mayor’s; for where the mayor had besides his giant three pageants, each of the sheriffs had besides their giants but two pageants, each their morris dance, and one henchman, their officers in jackets of worsted or say, party-coloured, differing from the mayor’s, and each from other, but having harnessed men a great many, etc

John Stow, author of the ‘Survey of London‘ first published in 1598. Available at the wonderful Project Gutenberg: ‘https://www.gutenberg.org/files/42959/42959-h/42959-h.htm’

First published june 2023 republished in 2024

May Posts & Medieval Royal Horses

Medieval illumination of a medieval tournament

I’ve been taking groups around Britain from London to Edinburgh and have fallen behind on my postings.

So, I am going to post a few posts today to put them on my Almanac of the Past. They will be brief, and will be worked up for a re-publication in greater length next year.

Archaeological Discoveries at Elverton St. Westminster

Near the site of the medieval jousting arena in Westminster, London at Elverton St, archaeologists, nearly 30 years ago, excavated a Cemetery which contained the remains of horses. The University of Exeter has recently revealed the results of their analysis of the horses’ bones. The 15 animals studied were found to be above average in height, and marked by a life where they had been worked hard. Analysis of their teeth suggested they came from as far afield as Scandinavia, the Alps, Spain, and Italy.

Three of the animals are the largest found in England at the time. The findings suggest they might be from a Royal Stud farm, providing war, jousting or hunting animals for the elite.

For more details read: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-london-68632099

Titus Oakes flogged from Aldgate to Newgate  May 20th 1685

Popish Plot playing cards c1679 after a design by Francis Barlow

Titus Oakes was a con-man who accused leading Catholics, including the Queen, and the King’s Brother’s wife of participating in a plot to kill King Charles II and restore a Catholic monarchy. 

It is thought that 22 people were executed, some Hanged, Drawn and Quartered because of Oates’ baseless accusations.  Diarist, Samuel Pepys, was caught up in the controversy and the entire country was swept up in the anti-Catholic frenzy called the Popish Plot.

It was only with the accession of James II that the climate of opinion changed, and Oates was found guilty of perjury.  Perjury was not punishable with death, so Oakes’ punishment was a long-drawn-out affair instead. He was sentenced to be imprisoned for life, and ‘whipped through the streets of London for five days a year for the remainder of his life.’

Oates was put in the pillory at Westminster Hall where passers-by pelted him with eggs. He was again pilloried the next day in the City.  On the third day, stripped, tied to a cart, and whipped from Aldgate to Newgate. The following day he was whipped from Newgate to Tyburn. (Source Wikipedia)

However, when James II was deposed and replaced by the joint Protestants monarchs William and Mary in 1689, he was released and given a pension.  He died in 1705.

Boating adventure & the Second Best Modernist Building in London

The Hoover Building in Perivale NW London, photo Kevin Flude

I published this piece in April, but for some reason to do with the fact that I published the posts from my phone rather than my computer, no email was sent to subscribers.

So, here is a chance to see it.

What makes owning a narrow boat so wonderful, apart from enjoying living amidst nature, is the accidental discovery of undreamt of wonders.  Last week, I moved my narrow boat from Westbourne Park, on the Grand Union Canal, to Perivale.  A 3-hour boat trip of less than 10 miles to a frankly uninspiring suburb.  But, as so often, mooring in an uninspiring place uncovered surprises that transform the mundane to the delightful.

Paddington branch of the Grand Union Canal heading west from Westbourne Park.  Photo Harriet Salisbury

We set off on a beautifully sunny April morning to move the boat the requisite distance to satisfy licence terms. Rain at 12 prompted a premature end to the trip.  We trudged to Perivale Underground Station, bemoaning our failure to get to Southall, to enjoy a Dosa In London’s Little India.

The road to Perivale is dull suburbia.  But we stopped at a library boasting a cafe, which turned out to be a really nice bit of early 20th Century library architecture, with a cheerful volunteer explaining they were keeping the library from closure due to council cost-cutting.

Perivale Library photo Kevin Flude

They had made the library really cosy with sofas and comfortably sitting areas. Sadly, the promised Café was not open.

Perivale Library. Interior. Photo Kevin Flude

The volunteer pointed us in the direction of a sandwich at the Tesco in the Hoover Building. I had no idea this icon of Modernism was a short walk away, so we jumped at the chance to see, at close range, one of my favourite London buildings. 

The Hoover Building (photo K Flude)

I regularly point it out to the groups I take to Oxford.  But I have never seen it up close nor standing still. Not only is the building a fabulous cream and green, but it has a backstory of interest to London’s history.  As road transport began to remake the geography of London in the early 20th Century, factories in Hackney, Tower Hamlets, Southwark, Lambeth, and other Inner London Boroughs closed, and new factories were constructed on the roads out of London, mostly manufacturing consumer goods.  Park Royal, Greenford, Slough and Staines were among the areas to develop as consumerism powered the 20th Century with the production of irons, kettles, hairdryers, radios, washing machines, vacuum cleaners and suchlike delights for the workers and families. The fields around were turned into rows of semi-detached houses to mortgage to the workers.

The Hoover Building is a Grade II* listed building of Art Deco architecture[1] designed by Wallis, Gilbert and Partners located in Perivale in the London Borough of Ealing. The site opened in 1933 as the UK headquarters, manufacturing plant and repairs centre for The Hoover Company.[2]‘ (Wikipedia). It has been converted to apartments and a Tesco occupies the Factory Floor.

What made this trip even more special was that one of the original buildings has become a Hotel, in which we discovered a massive Indian Restaurant.  There, we found it full of about 500 people eating a fast-breaking Eid dinner. £26 to eat as much as you can, all self-service, with scores of chefs serving their delicious tureens of Asian food. Such a great cultural experience, and rather better than the tasteless Tesco sandwich we were expecting.

If I’m passing the factory on a tour, I tend to read to my group Sir John Betjeman’s patronising poem ‘Slough’ which is about the horror of the new consumer society.   ‘Slough’ is wonderful to read and, yet, also, awful, not just the Oxbridge author looking down his long privileged nose at the lower classes but going to the extreme of suggesting Slough would be better off bombed to smithereens.

Guernica was bombed on 26th April 1937 and ‘Slough appeared’ in a Betjeman collection called ‘Continual Dew’ in the same year (I havent located a reference with the actual date of publication).  Bad taste in the extreme, hardly mitigated by the fact that it was originally written in 1928 and was about trading estates in general rather than Slough in particular.  Still, despite all it is still one of my favourite poems for the insight it gives to attitudes of the British class system.

So, here it is.

Slough

Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough!
It isn’t fit for humans now,
There isn’t grass to graze a cow.
Swarm over, Death!

Come, bombs and blow to smithereens
Those air-conditioned, bright canteens,
Tinned fruit, tinned meat, tinned milk, tinned beans,
Tinned minds, tinned breath.

Mess up the mess they call a town-
A house for ninety-seven down
And once a week a half a crown
For twenty years.

And get that man with double chin
Who’ll always cheat and always win,
Who washes his repulsive skin
In women’s tears:

And smash his desk of polished oak
And smash his hands so used to stroke
And stop his boring dirty joke
And make him yell.

But spare the bald young clerks who add
The profits of the stinking cad;
It’s not their fault that they are mad,
They’ve tasted Hell
.

It’s not their fault they do not know
The birdsong from the radio,
It’s not their fault they often go
To Maidenhead

And talk of sport and makes of cars
In various bogus-Tudor bars
And daren’t look up and see the stars
But belch instead.

In labour-saving homes, with care
Their wives frizz out peroxide hair
And dry it in synthetic air
And paint their nails.

Come, friendly bombs and fall on Slough
To get it ready for the plough.
The cabbages are coming now;
The earth exhales.

850 new factories were built in Slough before the outbreak of world war two, and the Trading Estate was first seen here. And yes, they are bleak, and Slough is even now, not the most exciting or architecturally sophisticated of towns.  But to imagine bombing a town in a time when there was a real fear of mass destruction from the air?

I particularly object to the line about tinned food because I was brought up on tinned beans, peas, steak and kidney pudding, pineapple chunks, peaches, and rhubarb.  And exactly what is wrong with a hair-dryer?

Before I read Slough, I recount an experience I had years ago with an American group who suddenly started laughing for no reason.  I enquired, and they pointed to a huge advertising hoarding with a poster about the Electrolux Vacuum Cleaner.  Its location near the Hoover building, I imagine might have been deliberate, but what made the Americans laugh was the slogan:

‘Nothing sucks like an Electrolux’

To a British person, the slogan works in a positive sense and we appreciate the wit.  For the Americans, it made them all laugh with shock as to why anyone would pay to say their vacuum cleaner was complete pants.

Oh, and second best? Well, the best Modernist Building in London is the Daily Express Building, Fleet Street.

May the Bees be with you! May 5th

Swarm of Bees, Hackney (Photo Kevin Flude 30th May 2018)

Tusser’s ‘Five Hundred Points of Good Husbandry’ published 1573 suggests we should:

take heed to thy Bees, that are ready to swarm, the loss thereof now, is a crown’s worth of harm.’ The loss was particularly hard in May or June as the country verse tells us:

A swarm in May
Is worth a load of hay
A swarm in June
Is worth a silver spoon
A swarm in July
Is not worth a fly.

In 2018, on 30th May, I was perturbed to find a swarm of Bees hanging outside my front door. Frightened of leaving my house, I rang a local Bee Keeper who came around to take possession of the Bees and take them to a new home.

Swarm of Bees having moved 20 yards to a new home, being 'rescued' by a bee keeper.
Swarm of Bees, having moved 20 yards to a second perch, being ‘rescued’ by a bee keeper. You can see the swarm above his head

According to Hillman’s ‘Tusser Redivus’ of 1710, swarming in May produces particularly good honey, and he advises following the bees to retrieve them. He says:

You are entitled by custom to follow them over anyone’s land and claim them … but only so long as you ‘ting-tang’ as you go, by beating some metal utensil – the sound whereof is also said to make your bees stop.’

Much of the above is from The Perpetual Almanac of Folklore by Charles Kightly.

Bees swarm when a new Queen Bee takes a proportion of the worker bees to form a new colony. They will latch unto a branch or a shrub, even a car’s wing mirror, while sending bees out searching for a suitable new home, such as a hollow tree. There may be hundreds or even thousands in the new colony, and this may be very alarming, as I found, as I could not go out without walking through a cloud of bees. But, at this point, they will not be aggressive as they do not have a hive to protect. Look here for more information on swarming.

An average hive will produce 25 lbs of honey, and the bees will fly 1,375,000 miles to produce it, which is flying 55 times around the world (according to the British beekeepers Association (and my maths)) https://www.bbka.org.uk/honey

Bees are still having a hard time as their habitats are diminishing and threats increasing. In July, DEFRA hosts ‘Bees Needs Week’ which aims to increase public awareness of the importance of pollinators.

They suggest we can help by these 5 simple actions

  1. Grow more nectar rich flowers, shrubs and trees. Using window or balcony boxes are good options if you don’t have a garden.
  2. Let patches of garden and land grow wild.
  3. Cut grass less often.
  4. Do not disturb insect nests and hibernation spots.
  5. Think carefully about whether to use pesticides.

For more above Bees Needs Week look here:

St Totteringham’s Day? 28th April

I newspaper heading

Today, might be St Totteringham’s Day.  The mythical Saint, born in North London in the Noughties, has a variable feast day, but normally, in March or April. Sometimes, there is no feast day for the Saint.

My own hope is that a miracle will take place this year and St Totteringham is denied his customary outing.  But it looks unlikely; the best I can hope for is that it is postponed for a few days.

Scholars find that the best predictor of the Saint’s Day is not the Moon but the results of Premier league results for arch North London rival football teams, Tottenham Hotspur (Spurs) and Arsenal (the Gunners). 

So, St Totteringham’s Day is the day that Arsenal are so far ahead of Spurs in the Premier League Table that Spurs cannot possibly overtake them.  Today, Spurs are playing Arsenal and if Arsenal win, they will declare the celebrations of the North London’s Saint can begin.

Fingers crossed that it doesn’t happen.

Another neologism from North London is to be ‘Spursy’.   Espn.co.uk defines it as: (and it breaks my heart to tell you this).

‘The more modern meaning is to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory or to fall short with the prize in sight. This is because, over time, the club’s lack of silverware has come to influence the meaning of “Spursy.” That original 2014 entry reads: “To consistently and inevitably fail to live up to expectations.’

Next year, it will be different.

Francis Drake Knighted at Deptford April 4th

Sketch from an old print. In fact, the Queen delegated the dubbing to a French Diplomat

The Queen’s half share in the profits of the Golden Hind’s circumnavigation of the world, amounted to more than her normal annual income. So it is no wonder she knighted the Captain, Sir Frances Drake, in the dock in what is now South East London at Deptford. The Spanish were furious that a Pirate should be so honoured. The Queen may have given a French man the honour of dubbing Sir Francis to align the French more with the English against the Spanish.

Drake was one of the British heroes I read about as a child. I had a thick book with stories about people like Hereward the Wake, Drake, Charles II, Bonny Prince Charlie, and David Livingstone. Drake was remembered for being the first English person to sail around the world, and his exploits in ‘singeing the beard of the King of Spain’ and his piratical raids on the Spanish Main. In these books, the Spanish were the bad guys and we were the good ones. Drake was one of a brand of swash-buckling heroes who turned Britain from a not very important country on the edge of Europe, to one of the World’s Great Powers.

Portrait of Francis Drake with Drake Jewel given to his by Queen Elizabeth I

On the other hand, he was also a pioneer in the Slave Trade, was involved in atrocities in Ireland and in the Spanish Territories, and had one of his crew executed in dubious circumstances. Perhaps more significantly, his contemporaries did not entirely trust him.

On the first days of contact between the British Navy and the Spanish Armada, he was tasked with leading the nightime pursuit of the Armada up the Channel. The idea was to stop them landing and to drive them away and into the North Sea. Drake in the Revenge was leading the pursuit, and the other ships were told to follow  a single lantern kept alight in the stern of Drake’s ship. The light went out, and the British pursuit was disrupted. The next morning Drake comes back having captured the disabled Spanish galleon Nuestra Señora del Rosario, flagship of Admiral Pedro de Valdés, and substantial gold to pay the Spanish Armada.

In the end, the lantern incident did not stop the British forcing the Spanish to flee around the North of Scotland, upon which perilous voyage only about 60 of their ships returned to Spain out of about 130. Britain was saved.

The Nuestra Señora del Rosario and its crew were taken to Torre Abbey, Torbay and imprisoned. The Abbey is now a lovely museum with an Agatha Christie Poison Garden amidst the ruins of the Premonstratensian Abbey. Its tithe barn was used to hold 397 prisoners of war from the Spanish Armada in 1588.

The Spanish Bar, Torre Abbey. Photo 2012 Kevin Flude
The Spanish Bar, Torre Abbey. Photo 2012 Kevin Flude

Sir John Gilbert, who was Sheriff of Devon at the time also used 160 Spanish Prisoners of War to develop his estate above the River Dart which is now enjoyed by those millions of visitors to what became the summer home of Agatha Christie (Greenway).

Queen Elizabeth I decided that the Golden Hind should be permanently docked in Deptford, and the ship was placed in a ‘dry’ dock filled with soil until the ship decayed slowly with time, and by about 1660 nothing much was left. 

I remember as a young archaeologist that some of our team took time out to work with Peter Marsden, one of the great experts in Naval archaeology, leading a search to find Drake’s ship.  There was a huge fanfare in the London newspapers, but, rather embarrassingly, given the build up, they failed to find anything of significance. Another attempt was made in 2012, but the prize of the discovery of a largely intact Elizabethan Galleon was not made.

The defeat of the Spanish Armada 1588 showing July22nd Start Point Devon with English ships pursuing the Spanish
From an old history book

The Keeper of the Naval Stores at Deptford made chairs from the ruins of Drakes ship, and one of the three said to have been made is on display at the Divinity Hall, Oxford.

Chair made from the ruins of the Golden Hinde