0 Of Noble Dogs and Nobility

 "Histories are more full of examples of fidelity of dogs than of friends." Alexander Pope

Alexander Pope wrote this at the beginning of the 18^thcentury, in agreement with the sentiments of King Frederick II of Denmark. Indeed, some histories have it that the latter 16^th century king created the country's highest order of merit in order to honour his dog, Wilpret.

King Frederick II had a reputation for being a man who enjoyed life to the full. He had a penchant for wine, woman, hunting, and feasts, and some even say that he drank himself to death. But perhaps being hot-headed, vain, and ambitious hides an underlying disappointment in the fidelity of the human race. It seems the one constant in his world was his dog, Wilpret.

 

1581, King Frederick II of Denmark

It is said that Frederick honoured Wilpret by awarding the dog the Chief Order of Denmark (which later became the Order of the Elephant – an honour only bestowed on royalty, or people of exceptional importance.) This is backed up by an gilded plaque, now hanging in the Wallace Collection, London, showing a mounted Frederick. The plaque bears the inscription:

"My trust is in God alone, Wilpret is true."

In a world of shifting allegiance, Frederick's dog at least was constant.

 

Frederick's plaque - on display at the Wallace collection, London.

Writing a little of over a century later, Alexander Pope applauds this recognition of canine allegiance.

"A modern instance of gratitude to a dog is that the Chief Order of Denmark (now call'd the Order of the Elephant) was instituted in memory of the fidelity of a dog nam'd Wild-Brat [sic]."

However, some people believed that dogs had a place, and that wasn't necessarily at a king's side in the council chamber. Samuel Pepys, writing in his diary in 1667, seems irritated by King Charles II playing with his dogs during a meeting.

"the silliness of the King, playing with is dog all the while, or his codpiece, and minding the business."

The spaniels that Charles so favoured. 

With the Stuart family history it is easy to understand why Charles had a low opinion of people and only truly trusted his dogs. As Bishop Burnet remarked after Charles' death:

"He thought that no one did serve him out of love…"

Although, the constant companionship of faithful canine companions hopefully brought some comfort. Indeed, they did go everywhere with him, as this poem by Lord Rochester implies:

"His very dog at Council Board,

Sits grave and wise as any Lord."

Perhaps one of the reasons why Charles loved dogs was that they put on no airs and graces in his company.  Indeed, whilst traveling on a barge with "a dog the King loved", Samuel Pepys writes how the dog fouled in the boat.

“which made us laugh, and me think that a King and all that belongs to him are but just as others are.”  

Perhaps that's the point, and dogs don't see class or station, but offer unconditional devotion and love. 

No relevance to this post I'm afraid!
Just too cute. 

Detail: Of Noble Dogs and Nobility

0 The Great Fire of London - Eye-witness Accounts



The pink areas indicate those parts of London destroyed in the Great Fire

This week it’s my brother’s birthday, a date he shares with the anniversary of another significant historical event –  the Great Fire of London in 1666. It seemed appropriate to mark his birthday on my blog with eye-witness accounts of the Great Fire, almost 350 years ago (OK, it was 347 years – but that doesn’t sound as momentous.)

Samuel Pepys- diarist

 

In the early hours of Sunday 2 September 1666, Mr and Mrs Samuel Pepys were woken by their maid, Jane, to tell them of a fire within the city. Pepys was concerned enough to rise in his nightgown for a look but recorded:
“Thought it far enough off, and so went to bed again and to sleep.”

At 7am the news was not good:

“Jane comes and tells me that she hears that above 300 houses have been burned down to-night by the fire we saw, and that it is now burning down all Fish-street by London Bridge.”

To investigate Pepys took to a boat on the Thames, to get the view from the river. He found a four acre area of light industry and warehouses ablaze. On a large scale people evacuated their houses and public order began to break down as they looked for someone to blame.

It seems London’s population turned against foreigners, and in particular the French, as the likely culprits for starting the fire. A schoolboy recorded a terrible incident where a blacksmith attacked ‘an innocent Frenchman’ with an iron bar. Another report was of a Frenchman ‘almost dismembered’ by a mob who thought he had firebombs (they were actually tennis balls.)

            The reason the fire was so severe was the medieval city of London consisted of closely packed wooden buildings with gables practically touching. That and a high wind that fanned the flames and that the city was dry for want of rain, added together to make an inferno.

“The wind got up mighty high…driving the fire into the city…and everything after so long a drought was proving combustible, even the very stones of the churches.”

            That Sunday evening (day 1 of the fire) Pepys and his wife sat in a wharf alehouse and watched the flames.

“An arch of above a mile long: it made me weep to see it.”

The Duke of York,
the future King James II

By Monday morning (day 2), that same alehouse had been destroyed. The brother of King Charles II, took charge. James, the Duke of York, recognised drastic action was needed and ordered whole streets to be demolished. But the fire continued to spread and the Royal Exchange, one of the landmarks of Elizabethan London, was gone by the afternoon.

John Evelyn -
described the fire and also proposed a layout for
the city to replace the one destroyed.

Tuesday(day 3) must have be terrifying indeed as the medieval cathedral of St Paul’s caught fire. Another famous diarist, John Evelyn, described a hellish sight.
“The melting lead [from the roof of St Paul’s] running down the streets in a stream, and the very pavements glowing with fiery redness, so as no horse, nor man, was able to tread on them.”

Evelyn also recounted how.

“The fall of towers, houses and churches was like a hideous storm.”

The Great Fire - by an unknown artist.
Tower of London on the extreme right
London Bridge on the extreme left
St. Pauls on the left amidst the highest flames

            The Duke of York had hoped the Fleet Ditch would provide a natural fire break but nature worked against him and a strong wind blew from the east and the fire leapt the ditch to arrive in Fleet Street. But later on Tuesday, the wind dropped abruptly and the fire-breaks held…dare they hope?

            The morning of Wednesday 5^thSeptember (day 4) Pepys set off to inspect the city. He wrote of his ‘feet ready to burn’ such was the residual heat. Some indication of the damage was shown as he wrote about picking up a souvenir:

“…a piece of glasse of [16^thcentury] Mercer’s Chappell in the street…so melted and buckled with the heat of the fire like parchment.”

An early fire-engine - which would have been impotent
against the power of the Great Fire.

            But the fire had largely done its worst and that night Pepys ‘slept a good night’ – the first since Sunday.

            By all accounts on the Thursday, although the fire on burnt in localised areas, the heat radiating from scorched pavements and walls was fierce. No accurate figures existed of the number of deaths but although supposedly low, one wonders how many vagrants were burnt and went unaccounted for.

Pudding Lane in the modern day!

            After the fire, someone had to be blamed. A Frenchman, Robert Hubert, ‘a poor distracted wretch’ was executed as the culprit, but it later turned out to be a baker, Thomas Farynor of Pudding Lane. He had failed to put out his oven properly and an explosive aerosol of flour became exposed to the cinders, igniting the conflagration. In total, his negligence led to the destruction of the 13,000 homes, 87 churches and one cathedral that made up medieval London. 

 

John Evelyn's plan for rebuilding London on a structured grid pattern.
This never happened as Londoner's swiftly started rebuilding on the site of their ruined homes.

Detail: The Great Fire of London - Eye-witness Accounts

0 In Praise of Dogs - Words from History

"The best thing about man is the dog." Voltaire

Man’s best friend – the dog.

 U.S. Navy photo by Petty Officer 2nd Class John F. Looney

The War Dog Cemetery, near Naval Base Guam



Our canine companions have had a long journey from guard and working animal to lap dog and friend. It is quite a transition from Shakespeare using the noun ‘dog’ interchangeably with ‘cur’ to denote an untrustworthy person, on to Benjamin Franklin writing in 1738 who said:

"There are three faithful friends—an old wife, an old dog, and ready money."

John Bull and his dog, Faithful.
A play on the politicians of the day.

The theme of dogs as faithful is frequently repeated such as in this quote from Sir Walter Scott in 1825:

"Recollect that the Almighty, who gave the dog to be companion of our pleasures and our toils, hath invested him with a nature nobleand incapable of deceit."

And in 1720, John Gay writes in “An Elegy on a Lap-dog”

He's dead. Oh lay him gently in the ground!
And may his tomb be by this verse renown'd.
Here Shock, the pride of all his kind, is laid;
Who fawned like man, but ne'er like man betray'd.

 

Lord Byron

In this quote from Lord Byron, 1808, the death of a faithful canine companion elicited words of praise:

The poor dog, in life the firmest friend
The first to welcome, foremost to defend

King Charles II

However, this devotion was not welcomed by everyone, especially when the dog was a distraction. King Charles II’s love of dogs is well documents, but when he paid them too much attention during a meeting, a courtier was heard to remark:

"God save your Majesty, but God damn your dogs."



Samuel Pepys records another encounter with Charles II and “A dog the King loved” whilst travelling on a barge. The dog seemingly fouled the boat, “which made us laugh, and me think that a King and all that belongs to him are but just as others are.”  However, Pepys sense of humour did not extend to his wife’s dog, whom he threatened to “Fling out of the window” if he soiled in the house again.

Samuel Pepys

And finally, in praise of dogs:

"Histories are more full of examples of fidelity of dogs than of friends." Alexander Pope

"The dog puts the Christian to shame."Robert Burns

As a cat lover, I concede that dogs can be (perhaps) more faithful, but as to which species makes the better companion – my vote goes to cats because they can chose not to befriend you. So, what is your choice: cat or dog?

Detail: In Praise of Dogs - Words from History

0 Valentine's Day: A Twist of Fate

As part of the "Heart's Through History" blog hop, my post looks at Valentine's Day as experienced by Samuel Pepys.
My giveaway prize is a $15 Amazon voucher:  SEE the END of THIS POST FOR DETAILS.

Click for link to participating blogs.
(Scroll to bottom of the page.)

Times change and so do the customs associated with Valentine's Day. Indeed, Samuel Pepys diary gives us a fascinating insight into a 17th century tradition that has died out. In modern times Valentine's Day is about secret admirers and lovers, but in the 17th century it seems it was a much more random event. There seem to have been two variations on a theme but somewhat oddly to us, a person's valentine was rarely their spouse.

A Game of Chance

The first way a 17th century lover chose their valentine was by lottery - or rather, pulling a name out of a hat at a party. This was often done on February 13th so that the Valentine partners (rarely husband and wife) knew who to present gifts to on Valentine's Day itself.

 

Samuel Pepys diary 1665/

This morning called up by Mr. Hill, who, my wifethought, had been come to be her Valentine; she, it seems, having drawne him last night, but it proved not.

These gifts could be costly, indeed, members of the artistocracy took it upon themselves to out do each other with expensive and showy items. The tradition was for the man to give the woman a present, indeed the Lady Bulkely played the system rather well by putting in a request, via her valentine's (Sir William Petre) wife, for a present of six yards of black satin (worth 60 shillings).

 

Sanuel Pepys

Samuel Pepys diary 1667/8

Up, being called up by Mrs Mercer, who come to be my Valentine, …and this year I find it is likely to cost 4l. or 5l. in a ring for her, which she desires.

The gift giving could go on for several days and Samuel Pepys remarked about the cost involved in buying six pairs of plain gloves, and one pair of embroidered, for his valentine. However, it seems likely Pepys also used this Valentine's Day tradition as a cover for buying presents for his mistresses.

 

Elizabeth Pepys.

The First Person You See on Waking

The other custom was that your valentine would be the first person you saw on waking on February 14th. To this end it seems in 1661, Elizabeth Pepys spent a morning with her eyes closed in order to avoid seeing the painters who were redecorating the house!

Samuel Pepys' diary 1659/60

Called out in the morning by Mr. Moore, whose voice my wifehearing in my dressing-chamber with me, got herself ready, and came down and challenged him for her valentine...

So which do you think is more exciting: a game of chance, or having a secret admirer?

Would you prefer a 17th century-style Valentine's Day?

 

 

FOR A CHANCE TO WIN A $15 AMAZON VOUCHER:

1) Subscribe to Grace's newsletter (quarterly):

http://eepurl.com/r4R3v

 

2)Leave a comment (if you already subscribe, leave a comment and you will be entered for the draw.)

 

GOOD LUCK,

Grace x

Detail: Valentine's Day: A Twist of Fate

0 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 Londonwas 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.

 

 

Detail: Unofficial London - Then and Now, Pudding Lane.