John Clare - the "Mad Poet"

 John Clare, often referred to as 'The Pauper Poet', stands out as a quintessential romantic figure in English literature. He first captured public attention in 1820 at the age of twenty-seven while working
as an agricultural laborer and gardener.

In the quaint village of Helpston, located just six miles north of Peterborough, a remarkable figure for English Poetry was born: John Clare, affectionately known as "The Northamptonshire Peasant Poet." Born in Peterborough in Northamptonshire on July 13th 1793, Clare's early years were shaped by a humble, yet vibrant rural existence. He began working as an agricultural labourer at a tender age but found solace and inspiration in education, attending a school in nearby Glinton until he was 12. As a young adult, Clare took on various roles, including working as a potboy at The Blue Bell public house, where he fell for a girl named Mary Joyce, a romance thwarted by her father’s firm disapproval. His journey was marked by diverse experiences; he worked as a gardener at the grand Burghley House, served in the militia, and even dabbled in the nomadic lifestyle of the local travelling community. However, by 1818, circumstances forced him to rely on parish relief (money and support from the parish to live), a reminder of the challenges faced by many in his time. 

Despite these factors against him, Clare rose to literary prominence after his poems caught the attention
of local bookseller Edward Drury, who facilitated their publication through John Taylor of Taylor & Hessey. His first collection, "Poems Descriptive of Rural Life and Scenery," released in 1820, garnered significant acclaim, leading to further works like "Village Minstrel and Other Poems" in 1821, and he became celebrated for his authentic portrayal of rural life, much to the delight of critics and readers alike, who hailed his talent despite his humble origins.

Despite publishing several acclaimed collections of poetry, Clare still struggled with the trauma of his early life, a struggle which resulted in profound mental illness. In 1837, he was admitted to High Beech private asylum in Essex, marking the beginning of a turbulent period that would see him move between several asylums until his death in 1864. His experiences in these institutions deeply influenced his work and his mental health—diagnosed with depression, trauma, and anxiety —manifested in powerful delusions. In 1841, after escaping High Beech Asylum, Clare was recaptured and sent to Northampton General Lunatic Asylum, where he penned evocative poetry that reflected his mental state. 

Say maiden wilt thou go with me  

Through this sad non-identity  

Where parents live and are forgot  

And sisters live and know us not?  

Say maiden wilt thou go with me  

In this strange death of life to be  

To live in death and be the same  

Without this life, or home, or name.  

His later works, including a reimagining of Byron’s “Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage,” delved into more literal interpretations of his confinement, emphasizing themes of imprisonment and despair. Clare's desperate plea to remain at his cottage, recounted in Frederick Martin’s 1865 biography, highlights the tragic circumstances of his life.

 "He struggled hard when the keepers came to fetch him, imploring them, with tears in his eyes, to leave him at his little cottage, and seeing all resistance fruitless, declaring his intention to die rather than to go to such another prison as that from which he had escaped" 

Despite his plight, Clare's poems resonated with readers across England, particularly in the southwestern regions where agricultural laborers could well relate to his experiences as a rural worker. Newspapers widely published Clare’s work, often accompanied by notes on his life and struggles, including the Devizes and Wiltshire Gazette’s publication of “Invite to Eternity,” which described Clare's unique intellect despite his circumstances. Clare was, he said, 

"indistinguishable from other pauper patients but for the ‘traces of intellectual spirit."

John Clare's life, characterized by both his deep mental health challenges and his rich bond with nature, presents a distinctive viewpoint in studies such as my thesis, especially during the Romantic era when numerous poets encountered similar difficulties. His time in the asylum didn't stifle his creativity; instead, it ignited a prolific flow of work that vividly expressed his experiences, feelings, and observations of the natural world. Clare's talent for conveying the complexities of his struggles through poetry not only sheds light on the intricate link between creativity and mental illness but also showcases his resilience and commitment to his art, setting him apart from his contemporaries who might have chosen silence as an escape.

Refs:

            Emma Barrett, A Delicate Matter: The Madhouses of The South West Of England, 1770 – 1851, (PHD Thesis: Plymouth University, 2004), p.55-58
‘John Clare the Peasant Poet’, Coventry Standard, 10 June 1864, p.3; ‘Peasant Poet, Clare’, Roscommon & Leitrim Gazette, 2 April 1842, p.4.
Frederick Martin. The Life of John Clare. (London: Macmillan, 1865), p.201.
Anindita Chatterjee, ‘“I think I have been here long enough”: John Clare and the Poetry of His Asylum Years.’ Rupkatha Journal on Interdisciplinary Studies in Humanities 3.4 (2011).
Edward Strickland, ‘John Clare and the Sublime.’ Criticism 29.2 (1987): 141-161. (p.143).
 Willima C Engels, ‘Clare’s Mocking Tone’, The John Clare Journal, 15:1 (1996) p.57.
Delphi, Delphi Complete Works of John Clare - Kindle Edition (Hastings: Delphi Publications, 2013) p.1195 (This poem was originally published in Later Poems, 1837 – 1864).
Femi Oyebode ‘Recollections of journey from Essex by John Clare.’ Advances in psychiatric treatment (2012), vol. 18, 56–58.

Louisa - the Lady of the Haystack

 

Whilst researching my PhD, I stumbled upon a sweet but sad little story set in Somerset. An apparent true story, it was reported in The Lady’s Monthly Museum in 1801 that a "madwoman" had appeared in the Bristol region living ‘under a haystack’ and could not be coaxed to reside in a house until a lady persuaded her to go to an unnamed local private asylum nearby.[2] The location, ‘four miles from Bristol’ and the date given of admission, 1781, means it was probably Fishponds Asylum, Somerset - a well-known and renowned asylum which was opened in 1740.[3] When she was released "Louisa" returned to sleeping in the haystack and refused to move. Finally, she was apprehended and was admitted to "Guy’s Lunatic Hospital" in Bristol.[4] Louisa was described as ‘beautiful, graceful and elegant’, with the ‘deportment and conversation of superior breeding’.[6] A portrait of "Louisa" is shown below.

In 1804, this story was republished anonymously as a chapbook in London. This type of gothic chapbook, described sometimes as a ‘Shilling Shocker’, was a cheaply printed short – sometimes serialised – book aimed at the general public , much like a "Penny Dreadful" would become in later years.[7]  The Chapbook had this fantastic title:

The Affecting History of Louisa, the Wandering Maniac, or, ‘Lady of the Hay-Stack;’ So called, from having taken up her Residence under that Shelter, in the Village of Bourton, Near Bristol, in a State of Melancholy Derangement: A Real Tale of Woe.

 In the Shilling Shocker rendition, Louisa’s story was retold, but with the (most likely untrue) assertion that the girl was in fact a member of the German royalty! Louisa - it told -  had fled to England and become impoverished and mad.  This chapbook was accompanied by more illustrations in a Romantic style, and shows Louisa as a‘damsel in distress’ archetype.  This chapbook was published anonymously, however it was likely inspired by another, earlier telling of the tale, thought to be by George Henry Glasse (a clergyman). Glasse’s original story was published in 1785, four years after the event was said to have occurred. Glasse’s version of this story was also turned into a play, The Maid of Bristol in 1803 with similar embellishments.[8]

Despite that it is difficult to find any mention of Louisa in the papers, another character from this little drama was indeed a real person! Hannah Moore, who is said to have paid for the girl's charity was in fact a poet and a vocal supporter of the abolition of slavery. Hannah was deeply enriched in Christian values and abhorred seeing people in states of great poverty. Due to this, she set up a series of charitable institutions and schools for impoverished girls in Somerset. 

Hannah Moore - Louisa's benefactor

Another poet, Ann Yearsy of Bristol even wrote a poem about Louisa - 

Here the fair mania bore three winter snows,

 Here long she shivered stiffening in the blast; 

The lightning round their livid horrors cast; 

The thunders roared, while rushing torrents pour 

And add new woes to black affliction’s hour.

Despite knowing quite a bit about Louisa's life after she was found from the accounts of poets and also the doctor who treated her until her death in Guy's hospital in 1801, one thing has never been discovered - who really was Louisa?  I guess only conjecture remains!

[1]      ‘Louisa, The Lady of the Haystack’, p.420.

[2]      ‘Louisa, The Lady of the Haystack’, p.422.

[3]      In 1781, the only private asylums which operated in the region were Fishponds and Nailsea. Fishponds was located three miles from Bristol, whilst Nailsea was eleven miles.

[4]      This was the asylum which was attached to the workhouse.

[5] ‘Louisa, The Lady of the Haystack’, p.423.

[6] ‘Louisa, The Lady of the Haystack’, p.421.

[7]      Franz Potter, Gothic Chapbooks, Bluebooks and Shilling Shockers, (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 2021), p.41.

[8]      James Boeden,. The Maid of Bristol: A Play in Three Acts. (New York: D. Longworth, 1803).

[9]      Anon, Louisa, Lady of the Haystack, p.7.

 

Nursery Rhyme Origins - Jack and Jill

Another nursery rhyme post to get me back into the swing of posting! The other day my partner and I were discussing Jack and Jill and what some of the elements of the rhyme might mean so I thought I would break it down for you (and him!)

Firstly, let’s look at the lyrics:

 Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water

Jack fell down and broke his crown

And jill came tumbling after.

Up Jack got and home did trot as fast as he could caper

And went to bed to mend his head

With vinegar and brown paper.

 

Now, anyone who has read my other nursery rhyme analysis (which is available here!) will know that often rhymes like this are metaphorical and tend to relate to real people or events.

 I’ll start with a bit of language analysis. Let’s first look at the word “Crown” – most people accept that Jack’s broken crown is in fact the top of his head and that is perfectly plausible in the circumstances, especially with the final lines to “mend his head”, so that is the most likely usage here. There is a theory circulating online, however, that the word crown might be more literal! This theory states that Jack and Jill were in fact the poor deposed and executed monarchs Louis XViii and his infamous queen Marie Antoinette! This seems to be a common theme from what I have seen online, and certainly it seems to fit the bill – he fell and lost his crown and she came tumbling after. It certainly could be describing those events. The extra evidence of this given is that most people cite the first publication of the rhyme to be in 1795, two years after the pair fell to the guillotine… HOWEVER, this does not check out and this rumour seems to have become an easily passed on myth! From my research I have found a copy in 1777,[1] and previous to that in 1765! So Jack and Jill is categorically NOT about the French royalty of the revolution! Myth busted!

Printed in a 1777 songbook - see footnote 1

So, how old is Jack and Jill? That is the next question! The first full publication of the rhyme I can find is currently 1765, however, I have found references to Jack and Jill earlier! In 1744, an epic poem about the English Revolution cites:

 “Our Merry Pipes, for Trumpet’s shrill,

Our tabers changed to drums

Princes are braved by Jack and Jill,

Wat Tiller and Tom Thumb!”[2]

This rhyme was said to date from 1661. Now, to complicate matters, it is true that the phrase “Jack and Jill” was often used to generally describe and man and woman, often married (as early as Shakespeare), however it is what it is accompanied by in this rhyme that caught my attention. Tom Thumb for example being a creature of English Folklore. (Conversely, however, Wat Tiller / Tyler was a real man who fought a rebellion against the crown in 1377, however – like “Robin Hood” figures, his deeds are often remembered with folklore-like twists of nostalgia and hero-worship). With the extra addition that this verse speaks of music changing from merry to battle, and with reference to old customs, could Jack and Jill actually be some lost element of English folklore?

This theory goes back further too! With a reference from the 1690s which refers to Jack and Jill as a children’s story! [3]

For my part, I would as soon commend the children's stories of Tom Thumb - and of Jack and Jill

 - See footnote 3!

 With this in mind, let’s have a look at any theories which are said to originate prior to this!

 “Jack and Jill Hill” in somerset is supposed to the actual hill from the rhyme and gives a local folklore tale to explain it. This hill in the 1805 original ordinance survey maps is actually entitled “Bram Hill”[4]. The tale told is a simple one, that a woman – Gill - was pregnant and that her husband fell and died on Bram hill.[5] The grief-stricken woman also died soon after and so her child was brought up by the villagers, thus leading to the common usage of the surname Gilson in that area. The evidence added is that in the 1765 Mother Goose version of the rhyme, the spelling is “Gill” rather than Jill.  This was supposed to have happened in 1697 however and so at once, this falls after the first mentions we have heard of Jack and Jill as a “children’s story”.  This research also ties in with an earlier assumption made by Opie and Opie that the form of the rhyme and the words used are from the seventeenth century (1600s) at least.[6]

 There is of course, the possibility that the rhyme originated here using references to a previous children’s story which would explain the links made here. However, I find this to be somewhat charming, but unlikely.

One final set of theories is that the rhyme has Tudor or Stuart Origin.  Some say it was to do with the execution of two noblemen, another that it was more to do with changes to the size of measures for tax purposes (As in, a tax bill was blocked so instead of raising taxes, the monarch – Charles I – reduced the size of the measure instead) involving the archaic measurements of a Jack (Or Jigger) and a Gill.

To conclude. As ever with this type of thing, we never can know for sure the origins of this rhyme, however, my money is on it being an old lost piece of folklore – a “children’s” story which over the years was morphed into the rhyme as we know it today. I can tell you for certain that it was not about Marie Antoinette and her unlucky husband, and it seems unlikely that it was about Gill of Somerset and her untimely demise.

 

 

---

[1] John Arnold, The Essex Harmony ... Vol.ii. The Second Edition with large Additions, 1777 (London: J Buckland Printers), p.130

[2] I have modified the language used to make it accessible for the non-historians out there! If you would like to see it in its original form, see Harleian Miscellany, Or a Collection of Scarce, Curious, and rare pamphlets and tracts, 1744, Volume 2, Page 508, (available free to read on google books.)

[3] Vindiciæ Anti-Baxterianæ: or, Some Animadversions on a book, intituled the life of Mr Rihard Baxter, 1696, (London, Richard Standfast Dist), p.202.

[4] As can be seen here: https://tinyurl.com/5n6s82nn

[5] This theory is available to read in many blogs and websites, an example is: https://www.theimportanceofbeingtrivial.com/where-jack-and-jill-really-did-go-up-the-hill.html

[6] Opie and Opie, The Oxford Dictionary of Nursery Rhymes (London: )p.

A Ghost Story (and some history!)

 Hello all!
As some of you will be aware, I am (and have been for some time) working on a creative non-fiction book about local ghost stories called "Conversations About Ghosts" and I would like to share a ghost story from that collection with you as well as some of my research surrounding it. This story was told to me by my mother, and was one of her "real life" experiences.  Here's the story:

‘When I was a fair bit younger than I am now, and pregnant with my second to last. Me and M (her ex-husband) decided to take Rex – my old collie – for a walk up in the countryside behind the house. It was late in the afternoon but it was summer so we set out into the fields with our picnic and a book each. We were still fairly newly married at the time, with baby on the way. I didn’t want to walk too far so we stuck to the fields opposite the house and then settled down in the grass. I guess my mum had the other kids as it was just me and M. Rex didn’t need a lead as there were no sheep or anything around so we just let him off to explore and play - irresponsible, maybe - but we were young and it was normal for us when walking him. We stayed in the fields which run alongside the lane until evening began to really creep in, when the air got more chill we decided to call it a day and packed up our things. I called Rex back from the other end of the field by a gate where he was sniffing about... but he didn’t come. I called again and nothing - then he started to bark, deep and booming, growling barks. Now, Rex was a really friendly dog! He never barked aggressively (although being a collie, excited barking was a different matter). This sounded fairly threatening though and so, embarrassed, I ran up to grab him. The naughty thing was at one of the stiles which go over into a lane behind, and when he saw us coming he jumped over the short fence. I was astounded, this was so out of character! He was normally such a good dog but he was obviously really wound up. M and I ditched our bag by the stile, I climbed over into the lane to grab the dog and M followed. There, we were surprised (and initially somewhat relieved) not to find a person or perhaps another dog as the object of Rex’s ire, but in fact a very small and compact patch of mist. 

Then confusion rose again. 

Why on earth was the stupid dog barking at mist?
So, I was a bit spooked, I won’t lie. The lane is very spooky anyway, deserted with not a house in sight, just tall hedges and countryside. This wasn’t the first spooky thing I have seen in my life, but it was just odd and weird and I was pregnant and tired and not in the mood. I looked at M to see he seemed to share my feelings, lips pressed and eyes wary. I called firmly to Rex who was, just by the way, on the other side of the damn mist. He ignored me. Completely. We tried walking away and calling him but he just stayed, ‘ruprupruprup’ a few growls, then back to the barking. In the whole time I’d owned him, I’d only ever seen Rex do this once before, and that was when M and I had had a big row and he’d got between us. Even then, he’d not growled, just barked, so this was a whole new experience. As I looked at the mist too, I got a weird feeling about it. It kind of looked a bit like a person's outline, a man - taller than me - definite head shape, but with a undefined body and then tapers which looked like arms and legs. Even as I stood puzzling on it, M put a hand on my shoulder - I physically jumped - right out of my skin.
'Annie,' he said, 'does that... does that look like a person?'
I was glad he'd said it first. I said nothing but managed to nod. It was right next to us, not moving - still and normal, but with my dog barking madly on the other side.
'I'm going to have to get him,' I said, but I was still reluctant to touch the misty figure. I wet my lips and then suddenly, I stepped forward and grabbed the dog's collar. It was like walking into a freezer! I started shivering almost in the - what - 2 seconds I was in there? I grabbed for the dog and I managed to get him and then I tell you, I was over that stile in a second and gone!

And that was her story, a story she told over and over again! Now, I am sure, like me as a young skeptic that I was, you are probably thinking "come on, that was just mist", but even if it was, my mother wasn't the only person to tell me a story about that exact same place! (you'll have to wait for the book to hear the rest!)  Let me show you my little map from my notes...

   On the graphic included above, points A to E are places where the stories I have gathered about this lane are said to have happened, to the best of my knowledge from piecing it together from the stories. There is also a missing point F and G because I am unsure where exactly in the lane these encounters happened. So straight off the bat, there seems to be a lot of ghost stories originating about this same lane. 

    In part, this can be put down to the fact that stories travel - especially on little estates like ours, and the lane is very quiet and eerie, especially in early morning or at twilight! It would only take a person to hear a story such as my mothers and then find themselves alone walking their dog as the sun is dipping to start to feel that chill on your spine. Having walked it myself many a time, I can tell you that both sides of the lane are set in by tall hedges with only the occasional gate to break the trees. As my mum described, there were no houses really anywhere close by it, aside from an old place called Butteville House (built 1820s) just on the edge of the lane. It’s a popular spot for both hiking and dog walking as no cars are allowed up it past Butteville. 

The picturesque Buttville House, Kingsbridge, alongside which the lane runs. Image from Strutt and Parker Estate Agents

The floor is uneven, some old broken cobbles still remaining here and there but mostly mud and stones. It runs for a good mile, before splitting into two parts, one of which returns you to the housing estates, the other which snakes off towards the now modern road to the next village. As far as I can gather, Mum and M were in the first part of the lane, still, before it broke into two. 

"But this is a history blog, Emma!" I hear you shout, "so let's do some history!" 

Ok! Let's do some history! A quick glance at some old maps shows me that the "lane" is actually all that remains of the old road from my hometown to another little village nearby, although it no longer goes that far. The first thing that is interesting is that whilst the "lane" proper seems to have been a road, the offshoot looks more like it was a footpath and went a slightly different way. This holds up to walk it as that part of the lane is much narrower and meets a modern road which did not exist then.

This is from the 1886 Ordinance Survey

By 1938 however, the roads on the map were then labelled with road names, however "the lane" - whilst marked, is not named, therefore leading me to believe that sometime between 1886 and 1938 this road fell into disuse!

A theory put about in local myth and told to me at least twice was that it was a condemned man making his last walk to the gallows, however since there never was a gallows in Kingsbridge along this road, that can purely be put down to myth! I did look a little further into this just in case, using internet newspaper archives. Turns out there was only one instance of highway robbery reported in the town and it was on a completely different road. Searches for Butteville and Buttville came up with only births and deaths at the house! There was an unexpected death at nearby Washbrook Mill in 1899, however it was an elderly woman who died after feeling unwell rather than anything nefarious. No accidental deaths were even recorded on the road!

And so all leads came to nothing!

This is the part of doing this sort of research that the spooky ghostly documentaries and "ghost hunter" shows never tell you - I'd say 90% of my research into these sorts of hauntings lead to nothing when you start to explore the history - of course the older a building or place, the more likely it is to throw up something relatable, but not always! This was one of those cases. So, why are so many people experiencing weird phenomena on an apparently unremarkable road? Who knows!

 

Historical Homosexuality (and why pride is so important)

 Trigger Warning. Sexual persecution, criminal injustice, sexual activity in a youth (but not a minor).

This was a difficult one to write, more so to research. I had hoped to have it for June and Pride month, but unfortunately, I wasn't able to get it finished in time. As some of you will know, I am an avid supporter of pride and equal rights for all sexualities. Whilst my research expertise is not in the history of gay rights, I do explore historical sexuality in some of my novels, and try to ensure that such individuals are sympathetically and genuinely portrayed. Now, as some of you know, my PhD expertise is is late 18th and early 19th century history. Whilst I focus mainly on asylums, I do also research this period in general. I did consider writing up a history here of homosexuality and the law but to do so would have stepped outside of my own expertise and so I have decided instead to discuss the topic within my own area. I also have been exploring this topic in relation to two separate novels I have written, to try to maintain historical accuracy with a sympathetic eye to those who were the victims of their times and a lack of understanding which existed therein.

Ok, so first and foremost it is important to realise that between the dates we are talking homosexuality - referred to often in contemporary documents as sodomy or as buggery - was illegal in some parts of the uk right up until the late seventies / early eighties. And by that, i mean the NINETEEN seventies and Eighties. Yes, it really was that recent. Homosexuality was punishable by death in England up until the 1860s and after that could still incur life imprisonment and worse in the twentieth centuries such as chemical castration.

One particularly useful source for historians of law and crime is that of the Old Bailey Proceedings. The Old Bailey proceedings were published as a commercial venture, (for money, to be sold to the public) but are considered less sensationalist than other more extreme eighteenth century crime books such as "The Newgate Calendar". They were basically, accounts of the trials which were held at the Old Bailey criminal courts in London. Their validity as a source has been discussed by historian John Langbein who states that whilst they were produced for commercial purposes, they suffer very little “invented nor significantly distorted” content. It is also discussed on the Old Bailey website, that these proceedings did have a better adherence to the truth of the matter, due to them needing the lord mayors signature before they could be printed.

On the old bailey website there are 166 entries for trials of "sodomy" between 1750 and 1850. This does not include anybody who was tried for "sodomitical intent" as due to how the people reported these incidents in the day, those are mixed in with sexual assaults and so it is difficult to gauge which were sexual assaults and which were examples of consensual homosexual relationships. Of the 166 people who were tried for sodomy, 90 of them were found to be guilty. The Old Bailey's own blog explains that it was actually difficult to prove sodomy as there had to be eyewitness evidence to both penetration and ejaculation to prove a case. None the less, half of the cases which went to trial at the Old Bailey were found to be guilty and of these men, over half received the full sentence of death by hanging. This then, already goes to show that the idea of people being put to death in England for nothing other than being gay is no old wives tale or rumour - it is an actual recorded truth. This is based on a very small case study, with easily accessible data and already we are looking at over 50 people who died for their sexual orientation - what I am trying to say is, this is the tip of the iceberg!

Just to note - it is harder to trace lesbianism in this way, as sexual behaviour between two women was not a capital offence - in cases of the law, it came down to penetration as a deciding factor between what was considered sex or not.

I think, out of all the cases which I read whilst I was researching for this piece, the one which touched my heart the most was that of a young man named Thomas White.

Thomas White was a sixteen year old boy who was hanged for sodomy in 1811. He was tried and convicted alongside his lover who was a man some years older than he was. The Old Bailey records state only that the pair had indulged in "unnatural behaviour" and that it was too shocking to print, however the newspapers of the time give more of an idea of what happened. One entry was found in Sun, 6th December 1810. Now whilst possibly a precursor to "the Sun" a tabloid paper, it is worth noting that the concept of tabloid papers did not really exist before 1900 and so all newspapers can be viewed to hold similar levels of sensationalism. However, this still gives us some insight into what happened.

On the night before the event happened, The lover, a Mr Hepburn, involved a companion to request a meeting with Thomas White, who was then sixteen. Hepburn was a soldier about to be deployed, and White was a drummer boy. White was approached by the mutual friend, and this proposition was put to him, by which he agreed although he suggested they not go to Mr Hepburn's apartments as suggested for a cordial dinner, but to go perhaps somewhere more private. They then proceeded to spend the night together. This would have remained a secret tryst, but for the accomplice in bringing the two together who, when realising the activity he had facilitated, went and alerted the law as to what had happened. Thomas was arrested straight away, he still being in London, and officers were sent to accost Hepburn and to bring him home. Both men were tried together at the Old Bailey. Both were found guilty and sentenced to be hanged. A brief respite was granted for reasons unknown, however this was revoked and both men were hanged three months later at Newgate Prison.

Newgate Prison

This is a similar story to many of the cases recorded by the Old Bailey. These are voices still not heard, a loss of lives which is negated and made hollow every time somebody says "Well, what about straight pride". Whilst there has of course been some progress since then, with homosexuality no longer illegal in the UK, elsewhere in the world, there are still executions every day of people for their sexuality. At a time when we celebrate pride, and the notion that love is love, it is also important to look backwards and remember those who lost their lives for that notion.

Thanks you for reading

Sources

https://www.oldbaileyonline.org/forms/formMain.jsp

British Newspaper Archive - Sun, 6th December 1810

Pan - a Greek Legend

This piece is an article I wrote for the 2019/2020 "Wonky Broomstick Diary".  

 As you are walking out in the lushest part of the greenest forest you can imagine, a figure catches your eye. He’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before, cloven hooved, ancient eyes and ears which poke up out of his hair like an animal. He has horns like a goat and eludes a feeling of ancient wisdom, interspersed with playfulness and raw animalistic power. In his hand, he carries a musical instrument: a set of pipes made of reeds, and all about you, you can hear the sound of the leaves swishing so that they sound like the laughter of young women. You might well have just stumbled into the realm of the god Pan!

Pan is a well-known figure in modern paganism, known for his half-goat form and iconic “Pan pipes”.

 

This article will give you a run-down of where he originated, and how he had risen to become such a well-known deity.

Pan was first mentioned in ancient Greek mythology. He was first worshipped in the region of Arcadia as far back as the 4^th century BCE where he was heralded as the god of mountain and pasture. From there his image spread throughout Greece but whereas most of the Greek gods were worshiped at temples or shrines, Pan was rarely approached in this way, and was more often worshiped out in nature. Pan was thought also to be a close acquaintance (drinking buddy!) of Dionysus, the Greek god of festivity and wine, and there are several stories in the mythology about their antics! In Roman mythology, there is another remarkably similar god named Faunus and in modern understanding of Pan, some of Faunus’s traits have been incorporated, and some believe that he might well have been a cultural representation of the same god. Faunus, like Pan, was an animalistic god, being also half-goat and half man. In Roman terms, this amalgamation is a faun, named for Faunus, and in Greek terms it is a satyr. Both terms are nowadays used interchangeably. Both Faunus and Pan share the traits of being the god of pasture, mountain and fields, as well as having something of a reputation as erotic and sometimes lustful gods! There is ongoing debate still, as to whether Pan and Faunus are the same god, brother gods, or unrelated, however the stories told of them are remarkably similar!

Pan is, in general, seen as a happy-go-lucky sort of a chap! He was especially fond of Nymphs and is often referred to in conjunction with these creatures, quite literally! He is often portrayed as erotic, and many of the stories about him include some level of romance or sex – usually with nymphs although that is not unusual for a forest god, one would imagine! He drinks, sings, dances and frolics about the forests.

Despite his jolly and frivolous nature, some of the stories of Pan show his downfalls too, as he is often described as too hedonistic and unthinking in his pursuit of pleasure!  One of the most famous stories of Pan is that of how he forged his pan-pipes:

 Deep in the forests at the foot of a row of ancient mountains, there lived a wood nymph named Syrinx. Syrinx was the most beautiful of wood nymphs, with rich long hair and eyes which flashed with playful intrigue. She lived happily and was sister to the river nymphs of a nearby body of water. Pan, who walks all mountain paths and pastures, happened into

Pan and Syrinx by Edmund Dulak

Syrinx’s forest. The day was bright and lush, with the sunshine creating reflections on the water, and the scent of wildflowers in the air. Pan’s footsteps took him from the path, and towards a rushing waterfall nearby. There, he caught sight of Syrinx for the very first time, washing her thick and luscious hair in the waterfall. At once was taken by her beauty and her playful manner. She smiled, and he was lost – madly in love with her in the blink of an eye! Pan moved in closer as she sat out on the rocks, naked as nymphs are, and made a motion to speak with her, to entice her to come to him as so many of her kind had before. Syrinx, however, knowing of his reputation and unwilling to be the next in line of his conquests, jumped up at once and fled into the woods. Pan, thinking this was some game – for nymphs were known to play such – took off after her, laughing and enjoying the fun of the chase. Realising that Pan pursued her, Syrinx ran to her sisters, the river nymphs, and asked them to hide her from Pan, so that he would pass on and be about his business. The river nymphs did so, turning her into a reed on the edge of the river. Seeing this, Pan fell to his knees and begged the river nymphs to turn her back so that he might speak with her, but they – being scatty as nymphs often are – did not know the magics to undo the spells and so were unable to turn Syrinx back. As the days passed, the reeds that had been Syrinx melded in with the others which grew upon the banks of the river, wilting and rising again so that she became lost there. Pan mourned for long days at the side of the river, but as he sobbed, his breath cast over the reeds, sending out a song so mournful and beautiful that even the river nymphs themselves wept to hear it. Pan, in desperation that Syrinx not be lost, as well as in remorse for his unwitting participation in her downfall, cut seven reeds from the riverbank, and there he bound them together to become what is known as the Syrinx Pipes, or as they are more commonly known, Panpipes.

There are some slight variations to this tale, in some cases it is Zeus himself who turned Syrinx into a reed, and refused to turn her back in his annoyance at the nymphs and their games – something of a cautionary tale for young girls! In others Pan was said to have raped the nymph, or have tried to.

Despite this and other such pieces of folklore about him, somewhat unusually for Greek mythology, Pan doesn’t really seem to have a role in the god-politics of the time. Other than being the guardian of pastures and fields, he didn’t really have a role, spent no time involved in the usual antics which went on around Mount Olympus and did not engage with the power struggles with which Greek mythology is littered. Due to this, there are some scholars who believe that Pan actually predates Greek mythology and was incorporated into their stories as an outside agent. This debate has led to various theories about Pan’s origins, with some scholars claiming that he could be one of the oldest gods in existence, or even the original horned god, and that the Greek version of Pan is just another interpretation of him. I even read one article where Pan was cited to be possibly another aspect of the green man!

Whatever his origins, Pan has become a household name in witchy and pagan circles. Nowadays, rather than the god of pastures and fields, Pan is considered the shepherd between civilised life and the wilds, and in some cases, the guardian of the gate to faerie or other worlds. Pan is used most often used to represent sexual frenzy – not fertility or love, but raw lust and passion. He represents the inner self, the animalistic and primal self which follows hedonism and indulgence. He is said to control primal urges and one article even named him as the inventor of masturbation! In modern-day worship, Pan is still mostly worshipped out of doors, and can be called upon to strike passion and lust into your magics, rituals and circles. He can guide the mind away from the normality of civilised life, and allow you to step back to a more wild and unfettered state. Be wary though, as he is often set on his own pleasures, and has a reputation for carelessness with other beings!

 

Nursery Rhyme Origins - Banbury Cross

 Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross

To see a fine lady upon a white horse

With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes

She shall have music wherever she goes.

This rhyme is perhaps not so well known as others, but is often present in nursery rhyme books,
especially older ones. I certainly remember it from my youth, and have during the research for this blog come upon it several times.

Firstly, it should be noted that there are several variants to the rhyme, the most notable of which is the change to a fine lady, from an old woman, during the 1700s. The rhyme, as printed in “Tom Tits Songbook”, (published in 1790 by C. D. Piguenit of Aldgate, London), actually goes thus:

Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross

To see an old lady, upon a white horse

A ring on her finger,

A bonnet of straw,

The strangest old lady that you ever saw

As well as this, there are some variations which give Coventry Cross as the lady’s location, amongst other places. The question to be begged then, is can we deduce the identity of the “fine lady” or indeed, “Old lady” from the clues in the rhyme?

The first thing is to deduce the approx. age of the rhyme. So far, we know it is at least older than 1790, which disproves one theory found online, that the fine lady was in fact a Lady Katherine Banbury, from the late 1800s, despite how that lady bore the name Banbury and was well-known for riding a white horse with bells attached to her saddle. One place where it might be alluded to, is in a poem written in 1725 by Henry Carey which states “now on a cock horse he does ride”. This then,  could potentially be the earliest mention of the rhyme. This could also, however, be alluding to one of several other rhymes which both start with the same line, “Ride a cock-horse” although of course it is more than possible that at one time these were all verses of the same rhyme or song. For example, in the 1744’s Tommy Thumb’s pretty songbook, the following lines were recorded:

Ride a cock-horse To Banbury Cross,

To see what Tommy can buy;

A penny white loaf,A penny white cake,

And a two-penny aple-pie.

Or, as seen in another pic here from Tommy Thumb's Book of Pretty songs, another very similar rhyme:

These verses, it could be argued seem to have the same rhythm and style of the fine lady variant and so add credulity to the idea that this rhyme was originally set into several different verses.

Whilst it might seem that the use of currency in the “Tommy” part of the rhyme is a good start to try to date it, it is most likely that the currency would change over the years, as the rhyme evolved, so this is in fact not an accurate measure at all. What might be more relevant, and has been cited by a number of other scholars, is the allusion to clothing in the “fine lady” verse. During the 25^th century, it was, in England at least, fashionable to wear tapered shoes which often were decorated with tiny bells (the tradition of bells on shoes or around ankles or lower legs for Morris dancers also potentially comes from this era!) Couple this, then, with the history of Banbury Cross, which was destroyed in 1602 by puritans, and it would seem that there is strong evidence to show this fine, or old, lady was likely of the 15^th century. What must be noted however, is that there were other crosses in Banbury at the time, so although unlikely, it is possible that the rhyme refers to another cross.

So, the next step in this mystery is to look into what notable and fine ladies might have been likely candidates for such a rhyme. Firstly to note is that although in general a cock-horse might have been a spirited horse, or a horse which was brought in to assist in pulling carts where the terrain was difficult, during the 16^th century at least a cock-horse could also allude to a child’s toy horse, something like a hobby horse. This then, especially if the rhyme is actually a children’s rhyme, brings the imagery of the children lining up to look out at the lady, a procession perhaps for royalty, or personages of note.
In his 1962 book, the “Annotated mother goose” history scholar, William Baring-Gould  comments that there are three distinct possibilities as to the identity of this mystery woman. That it was Elizabeth I, that it was a medieval noblewoman named Lady Godiva, or that it was a different noblewoman named Celia Fiennes.
Let us examine each of these ladies individually!
Elizabeth I is certainly a good contender for the part. Certainly, Banbury cross was present during her reign, which is eveidenced both by knowledge of when the stone fell, and also by the comments of a Mathew Knight in 1604 who stated:“remembraunce all the publique proclamacions of our late soueraigne Ladie Quene Elizabeth and of her (most) noble progenitors that were directed thither to be proclaymed were alwaies made and proclaymed vpon the step~ or grises of the same heigh Crosse” (That is, that all royal proclamations given by the then Late Elizabeth, were read out by the Babury representative at Banbury Cross.)

 The white horse, in this case, could symbolise not just royalty, but also the white for the “virgin queen”. However, it can also be seen that despite there being many uncited references to Elizabeth I visiting Banbury for the erection of the Banbury cross, thus far I have found no sources to cite this, in fact in his 1841 book on the history of Banbury, A Beesley made no mention of Elizabeth ever having visited. Another fact to consider is that Elizabeth might have been a little late (about 100 years) to be wearing the shoes with bells on, although as an extravagant dresser, it’s still possible she wore such accessories.

The second lady who this rhyme is cited to be about is Lady Godiva, a noblewoman from 1067 who is said to have ridden naked through the streets as a protest against high taxes. Whilst Lady Godiva was a real historical figure, her deeds are the stuff of legends, namely legends created in the 13^th century! Other than the obvious connection of a “fine lady on a white horse” there is little but speculation to link this rhyme to Lady Godiva.
The third and final lady to consider is that of Celia Fiennes. All that is really known of Celia is that she was a noblewoman who was well-known for being a keen rider. The story here, is that the original verse was “A Fiennes Lady” rather than a "Fine" Lady. Celia was also sister to the viscount of Banbury castle, so there is a connection there. She was, however about 100 years late to be visiting Banbury cross, having been born in the late 1600, so 100 years after the cross was destroyed! An anecdote mentioned in the Oxford dictionary of nursery rhymes states that this version of events was actually made up by the antiquarian who claimed to discover it!
Overall then, it would seem that the fine lady on the white horse was most likely to be Queen Elizabeth I. Despite some discrepancies, she seems to fit the most comfortably into the clues given by the rhyme!

Sources used:

Baring-Gould, William Stuart, and Ceil Baring-Gould, The Annotated Mother Goose, Nursery Rhymes Old And New, Arr. And Explained By William S. Baring-Gould & Ceil Baring-Gould, 1st edn (New York: C.N. Potter, 1962)Beesley, Alfred, The History Of Banbury, 1st edn (London: Nichols and Son, 1841)

Candicott, Randolf, "Ride A Cock-Horse To Banbury Cross & A Farmer Went Trotting Upon His Grey Mare : R. Caldecott's Picture Books", Project Gutenberg, 2017 <http://www.gutenberg.org/files/18596/18596-h/18596-h.htm> [accessed 4 April 2017]

Gurton, Gammer, "Gammer Gurton's Garland, Or, The Nursery Parnassus : A Choice Collection Of Pretty Songs And Verses For The Amusement Of All Little Good Children Who Can Neither Read Nor Run : Ritson, Joseph, 1752", Internet Archive, 2017 <https://archive.org/details/gammergurtonsgar00ritsiala> [accessed 4 April 2017]

Harvey, P, "Where Was the Banbury Cross", Oxoneinsia, 1966, 83 - 106Heaney, Michael, "Kingston To Kenilworth: Early Plebeian Morris", Folklore, 100 (1989), 88-104

Opie, Iona Archibald, and Peter Opie, The Oxford Dictionary Of Nursery Rhymes, 1st edn (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997)

Opie, Iona, Joan Hassall, and Peter Opie, The Oxford Nursey Rhyme Book, 1st edn (Oxford: Clarendon Pr., 1977)