So far as I can work out there is absolutely nothing festive about four anthroprmorthic frogs – I could be wrong. Somehow or other I’ve now strayed into a slightly bizarre twelve days of Christmas. This is not the only example of a froggy festive card. There is another example, four frogs again, which at least involves a wintery scene and an unfortunate attempt at sequence ice skating….
I’m not sure I’d describe this as particularly jolly either. I think it’s a snowman about to waylay a startled Victorian. Raymond Briggs created an altogether more kindly snowman in his book of the same name in 1978. It was turned into an animated film in 1982. Three years later ‘Walking in the Air’ featured on a Toys R Us advert, sending the song into the top ten. Presumably, since all genealogists know that everyone has a black sheep in the family somewhere, this is The Snowman’s distant ancestor and very definitely not on first name terms with Father Christmas.
I should add that this is not the only alarming snowman Christmas card and if the frogs don’t offer you the kind of festive vibe you were seeking – how about four caterwauling moggies?
It is at least snowing. Jólaköttur or the Yule cat is from the Icelandic tradition – work hard enough and you get a nice set of new clothes…if you’re idle and lazy you’ll be eaten by the Yule cat who is the pet of the ogress named Grýla who eats naughty children – I think you can see how this might be going. And how does the cat know who to eat? Simple, if you’ve worked hard you will have gathered in the harvest, including shearing the sheep and have spun the wool – from which your new clothes have been made. This is, of course, quite important in the cold Iceland winter weather.
I have the feeling that I might find myself somewhat stuck with the number five but we shall see.
The reason that robins became so popular at Christmas was because Victorian postmen were nicknamed robins because they wore bright red uniforms. The link between the postmen, the bird and the cards they delivered was almost a ready made one.
There is also a Victorian story of a robin warming the baby Jesus by fanning the fire with its wings and the resulting burn is marked by the robin’s red breast.
I’m not quite so sure how this particular Victorian card fits into the festive message – it seems that three robins have over indulged the sherry or punch and that two of them have expired – one of them actually floating in the punch. After all, what says Christmas like two robins with their toes turned up – besides, of course the small boy being attacked by two geese and a Christmas pudding (see previous post). I don’t hold out much hope for the third robin given the cat lurking in the back ground. But in any event the sender, having provided a troubling image of massed robin extermination, wishes the recipient the usual seasonal greetings…
Jane Austen describes rout cake while Charlotte Bronte mentions spice cake in her letters. Leaving the former aside, it seems that spice cake was something of a treat to be taken as part of alms given at Christmas as part of her duties as a clergyman’s daughter and wife.
Mrs Beeton’s book of Household Management was first published in 1861 and was an immediate best seller. Her recipe for spice looks remarkably like Yorkshire Parkin without the addition of oatmeal and without quite so much ginger. Spice cakes were not a new invention, they are listed in The English House Wife of 1615.
8 oz plain flour,
3 oz butter (or rather alarmingly good beef dripping)
2 oz brown sugar
1/2 a gill of golden syrup (a gill is equivalent to a 1/4 pint)
1 oz self raising flour
a pinch of salt
1 teaspoon of mixed spice (cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg)
1 egg
milk.
Essentially the fats, golden syrup and sugar are melted and then added to the flour, spice and salt which is stirred well. The egg is added to the mixture and sufficient milk added to make a soft batter which is then beaten well and poured into a buttered cake-tin. It says it takes an hour to bake but Mrs Beeton doesn’t provide oven temperatures – a moderate oven is as good as it gets.
In Cumbria and Westmorland you might be more likely to receive a slice of pepper cake which contained pepper as well as ginger and treacle. More like a tea loaf, it also contains dried fruit. Like the spice cake it was part of a tradition of festive or celebratory cakes. The increasing amounts of spice used in celebratory cooking from the sixteenth century onwards tells a story of the triangular trade and slavery. In Cumbria the addition of rum to Christmas cakes reflects the import of rum into Whitehaven from the West Indies. And I will admit to being very partial to a slice of Cumberland rum Nicky. Certainly the arrival of cheap sugar made the iced Christmas fruit cake we are familiar with today much more affordable. The Victorians called it Twelfth Cake because that was when they tucked in to it. The consumption of cake on the 25th December is still a relatively new one.
And just when I thought that history had been covered in every possible way I discover Alysa Levine’s Cake: A Slice of History which outlines the evolution of our cake eating habits. You can also take a tour of the country in a book entitled Around Britain by Cake by Caroline Taggart. As it happens I already have the latter in my possession but I have the feeling that Levine’s book is about to make its way into my life.
I would also have to say that the Victorians had some strange ideas about Christmas cards. I’m not sure if anything quite says Christmas like the image of a small boy being attacked by a giant Christmas pudding and two angry geese.. as a warning against indigestion of all things. I was actually looking for a card featuring cake! The image originates from Pinterest via Reddit.
Rather inconveniently I managed to bypass 1st December, and the death of King Henry I on 1 December 1135 – he’s the one who ate too many lampreys. He’d attempted to ensure his only legitimate child, Empress Matilda, would inherit his throne but in the event Matilda’s cousin Stephen nipped across the Channel, secured the treasury and claimed the throne, resulting in the so-called Anarchy.
On 2nd December 1804 there was another coronation. Napoleon crowned himself emperor of France. Pope Pius VII was apparently there to do the job but Napoleon preferred to do the job himself and make a statement about his relationship with the papacy. Most of the medieval crown jewels had been destroyed during the French Revolution including the Charlemagne’s coronation crown which was traditionally used. The monarchy had had several to choose from but they were all gone apart from the crown of Louis XV who ruled from 1643 to 1715. Napoleon had to have a crown made specially for the occasion. Napoleon called his new crown after the original and modelled it on a medieval style. The following year, Napoleon won the Battle of Austerlitz.
In 1546, Henry VIII, who was becoming old and increasingly paranoid about the future security of the Tudor throne, had Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey arrested and sent to the Tower. He had mentored Henry’s son, Henry FitzRoy, but was not a reformer or terribly keen on the new men who were promoted at court – in short he was something of a conservative as was his father the Duke of Norfolk. When Surrey quartered his own arms with those of Edward the Confessor it seemed to the king that Surrey intended to make a claim to the throne through his descent from King Edward I – and that, as they say, was that…Surrey was executed on 27 January 1547. The only reason that his father survived the whole experience was that Henry VIII died in the early hours of 28 January, saving the duke from the block.
27 July 1689, James VII/II has been turfed off his throne to be replaced by his son-in-law, William of Orange, and James’ own daughter, Mary. Having been forced from his throne in December 1688, war erupted in Ireland in March 1689 while in Scotland John Graham of Claverhouse, better known as Bonnie Dundee, led his own rebellion against the new regime. It was the first Jacobite rebellion, which always comes as something of surprise since it’s the 1715 one that most people think of in the first instance.
General Hugh MacKay, William and Mary’s general led the Scots Brigade in the Low Countries. He was a seasoned commander but then, Dundee was also a professional soldier who fought for both the French and the Dutch before returning to Scotland in 1677 to serve James VII/II and suppress the Covenanters. His suppression of the men who refused to take an oath of loyalty to the king while he was Sheriff of Wigtown earned him deep unpopularity in some quarters as well as the title Viscount Dundee.
If the truth was told no one was that enthusiastic about another civil war in 1689. Many families sought to avoid taking part in any conflict. John Murray, Marquess of Atholl whose home was at Blair Castle took himself off to England to avoid taking part in proceedings. The fact that Patrick Stewart who occupied the castle for the Jacobites was a trusted family retainer is neither here nor there. Dundee was short of men and resources, even though support for the deposed king was growing in the Highlands. He hoped to win a battle that would increase support to his cause.
When John Murray, who was Atholl’s eldest son withdrew from the castle leaving the Jacobites in control, General MacKay moved north to support Murray. Blair Castle was to be besieged. Dundee saw an opportunity to intercept MacKay’s army, win a victory and garner support for the cause of James VII/II. MacKay may have had between 4,000 -5, 000 men who were accompanied by a baggage train and some ordinance. Dundee had about 3,000.
When MacKay entered the Pass of Killiecrankie on the track from Dunkeld he did not realise that he was being watched or that an ambush had been prepared. The track by the River Garry is the same path that government troops used in 1689. It is narrow and muddy. Iain Ban Beag Macrae, from Atholl, was observing MacKay’s men as they scrambled up the valley. When they were close enough he fired the first shot and killed an officer as he was crossing the river.
The Jacobites were on the ridge above the pass. MacKay knew that it would have been madness to order a charge so simply gave orders for his own men to shoot at the enemy. When Dundee gave orders to advance at about seven o’clock in the evening, as the sun began to set, Mackay’s men were subject to a Highland charge. They did not have time to fix bayonets (rifles could either fire or be used as bayonets at that time – not both). It meant that they were ill equipped for the fighting that followed. It was all over in a few minutes. MacKay’s men fled – one of them, Donald McBane, made an 18ft (that’s more than 5m) leap across the River Garry from one rock to another, to escape from the Jacobites. Other men were not so lucky and drowned. Mcbane published his memoirs in 1728 describing events at Killiecrankie and his dramatic escape.
Killiecrankie was a victory – unfortunately it came at the cost of the viscount’s life and a third of his men. The sword that Dundee is rusted to have used is on display at Killiecrankie while his armour, and the hole left by the musket ball, can be seen at Blair Castle. The bullet that killed Dundee was likely to have been a stray one, although tradition states that it was made from a silver button because only silver could harm the viscount. It’s a nice story. Taken together with the fact that he died with his men and that he was also related to John Graham, Marquess of Montrose who had become something of a hero since his execution by Parliament in 1650 meant that Dundee was soon the subject of ballads – the most famous one being ‘Bonnie Dundee’ by Sir Walter Scott which is still played by pipers. It was/is a popular regimental march for various Highland Regiments.
The only squirrel, red or otherwise, I have yet to see – despite lots of signs telling me about their presence!
According to the Encyclopaedia Britannica Louis-Jacques Daguerre announced his invention of the daguerreotype today in 1839. This was the first commercially successful photographic format and a long way from the instant images so many of us snap these day.
However, while I’m staying in France, I’m taking us back to the Hundred Years War. On 9 January 1431 the trial of Joan of Arc began on this day in Rouen. Joan’s story began in 1415 at Domremy when she heard the voice of the angel, Saint Michael. By the end of that year, the English, led by Henry V, were only 20 miles from Paris and in 1420 Charles VI of France (who preferred the sobriquet believed but often gets lumbered with the mad because he thought he might shatter if anyone touched him) agreed to the terms of the Treaty of Tours which recognised Henry as Charles’ heir and to seal the deal handed dove this daughter Catherine of Valois in marriage. So far, not so good if you were French. Then in 1422 Henry died from dysentry and left an infant on England’s throne. Charles died the same year.
Henry VI, a baby of nine months, was the king of both England and France. Katherine of Valois’s brother had other ideas and promptly styled himself Charles VII of France. This was followed by lots of bloodshed – and I’m not going there, the French and the Burgundians all piled in and then in 1429 Joan turned up at Vacuoles and announced to the Duke of Lorraine, and anyone else who would listen her, that God had spoken to her.
The best way, it was decided, to test the 16-year-old was to send her off to Orleans to raise the siege there. She succeeded in less than a week proving to the French that God was on their side, or at least on Joan’s – something that the English might have found mildly irritating. Even more so when the French king was crowned at Rheims. By the autumn events were beginning to turn against Joan – and inevitably the French began to wonder if she was quite what she said she was- but it was May 1430 before Joan was captured by the Burgundians.
In November 1430 the English purchased her from the Burgundians for trial. The Church wanted to try her for breaking God’s laws – women had no place on the battle field, dressed in armour, winning battles. Apparently the Book of Deuteronomy had strong things to say about women wearing trousers. The clergy clearly felt that it wasn’t so much the battles as the clothing that was the problem. Nor did it hep that Joan said God had spoken to her – after all, aside from the fact that she was French – she was also a woman – and not a very wealthy one at that…obviously, if God was going to speak to anyone it wasn’t going to be a teenage female.
Joan would face several trials but the one that began on 9 January 1431 at Rouen, an important English centre in Normandy, was a heresy trial No one asked Joan anything about the matter until 21 February.
The image I have selected for this post is Joan of Arc, as street art in Sheffield, the artist is Elle Koziupa.
Firstly, a very happy new year to everyone who enjoys the History Jar blog and thank you for your continued support. 2023 was something of a quiet year although the page underwent something of an overhaul towards the end of the year. I have further plans for 2024, although I am currently aware of a looming deadline for my fifth book with Pen and Sword! I have offered up the occasional ‘on this day in the past’ but this year it will make a more regular appearance.
On this day Pope Leo X excommunicated Martin Luther whose objections to some of the more corrupt practices of the Catholic Church at the time led to the Protestant Reformation in Europe. Luther’s 95 theses were nailed to the cathedral door at Wittenberg where the monk was a professor in October 1517 – he particularly objected to the sale of indulgences which meant people were able to buy a pardon from various sins. By the time he had refused to recant his views it was 1521.
In April 1521, Luther was called to the Diet of Worms to justify his views. The Holy Roman Emperor, Charles V, declared him an outlaw but Luther found protection from German princes.
King Henry VIII got in on the act when he wrote a paper defending the seven sacraments -known as the Assertio (Assertio Septum Sanctorum) resulting in Henry being given the title Defender of the Faith by the Pope. When Henry split with Rome following his failure to gain an annulment of his marriage from Katherine of Aragon, he kept the title. It should also be noted that Henry, who saw himself as something of a top notch Renaissance Prince on the academic front, may have had a helping hand from his friend Sir Thomas More – Tom found himself in dire trouble in 1534 when he refused to accept Henry as the supreme head of the Church of England or to recognise Henry’s divorce from Katherine granted by the Archbishop of Canterbury in 1533.
Henry’s defence of the papacy had been a best seller for ten years by then and Luther had taken the time in 1522 to write an attack on Henry mocking the Church for needing a defender and pointing out that the English king was totally unqualified at any level to write the riposte to Luther’s objections to the church – not that it ever stopped Henry. Nor did the Tudor monarch appear to notice the irony of leaning more towards Protestantism in 1527 when Pope Clement VII first refused the king his request to annul his marriage.
Freya, the Norse goddess, was the goddess of fertility. Traditionally Friday is named after her. The midwinter festival celebrated by the Norse incorporated Mother’s Night – the feminine festival that Bede definitely disapproved. And how does this get us to ham?
Well, Freya rode a boar with golden bristles when she wasn’t using her other method of transport – a chariot pulled by two black cats. Pigs were sacred to her and yes we have arrived at feasting and pork.
From there it is a short step to the medieval boar’s head and with a hop and a skip you have arrived at glazed ham.
Let’s try and be a little practical here. In rural communities many families kept a pig – did you ever read the Peppermint Pig by Nina Bawden? It could be fed from household scraps rather than requiring an expensive diet, acorns could be foraged. Even during World War Two people were encouraged to keep a pig.
So it really isn’t such a step to see how practicality and a tradition of pork on the festive table gives us a glazed ham. Now where is my recipe book? And how long will it take two people to eat a ham that can feed ten people comfortably for two days…
Adam of Bremen – the temple at Uppsala – Olaus Magnus Historia om de nordiska folken. Bok 3 – Kapitel 6 – Om ett härligt tempel helgadt åt de nordiska gudarna. – Utgivningsår 1555.
Prior to adopting Christianity – which was between the eleventh and twelfth centuries (the Swedes were a bit slow to adopt the “White Christ”) -Vikings held a range of seasonal feasts such as Jul in the winter ( Jolnir was one of Odin’s many names) and harvest festivals such as Mabon.
Adam of Bremen describes a festival that took place at Uppsala in Sweden once every nine years at the vernal equinox (the start of Spring) that involved sacrificing nine of every kind of male animal – and yes he does mention human sacrifice.
Major festivals involved feasting for twelve days and for those of you looking for an excuse to get the Christmas decorations out early many Germanic peoples celebrated a form of winter festival that fell somewhere between the middle of November and early January – quick break out the mead! It was King Haakon 1 of Norway who scheduled the winter holiday in the middle of the tenth century to coincide with Christmas, plied everyone with much ale across the celebration and ensured that there was lots of preaching resulting in some festive conversions to Christianity. It wasn’t entirely a smooth transition as the historic painting by Arbo demonstrates. Haakon, a Christian, first had to resist his people’s determination that he should celebrate Jol in the old style with a sacrifice.
Haakon the Good Confronted by the Farmers of Maeren painted by the Norwegian artist Peter Nicolai Arbo (c. 1831–1892)
Haakon is also known as Haakon the Good. His father was Harold Fairhair. Harold sent Haakon to England where he was raised at the court of King Athelstan and pick dup Christianity along the way. The only problem with all of that is that the earliest written source that alludes to all of this is twelfth century. Haakon’s half brother was Eric Bloodaxe and in order to become king Haakon had to depose Eric which is why Eric ended up in Yorkshire or Jorvik.
But back to the Norse before Christianity – there is evidence to suggest that the midwinter feast was linked to the so-called Wild Hunt which turns up in many European pre-Christian religious beliefs where lost souls are hunted across the night sky. In the North of England the pack of other-worldly hounds that Odin uses for his hunt are called Gabriel hounds and their howling is an omen of death – cheery.
I think I’ll return to the Norse festival of drinking and feasting designed to bring back the sun – and that brings us to those wreaths we hang on our front doors. Really they should be much larger and should be rolled down a hill whilst on fire to encourage the return of the sun… please don’t try it at home.
Other traditions with a Norse flavour include the yule log (which was very clearly not a chocolate confection in its original guise); Yule goats – which we don’t have but Scandinavians do; Old Man Winter; trees and mistletoe balls.
The first of the History Jar Zoom classes on Christmas and the festive season through the centuries begins on Monday 9th November 3pm (Greenwich Meantime.) Please see the Zoom class page for details.
Medieval chroniclers have a tendency to mention feast days rather than actual dates because everyone would have been familiar with the festival – which was an opportunity to have a holiday (holy day). This post is part of a series of short occasional posts about such feast days. So far I have discussed Candlemas which falls on February 2nd.
Lammas, which turned up in a post about the death of William Rufus, falls on the 1st August. It’s an Anglo-Saxon word meaning “loaf mass.” It celebrated the first loaves made from the new grain of the wheat harvest – hopefully it meant the season of plenty had arrived once more. Some places, such as Exeter, still have Lammas Fairs. It was a date when rents were to be paid, debts to be settled and labourers hired.
The date also happens to be the feast day of St Peter in Chains so later medieval writers will sometimes refer to that rather than Lammas. Some medieval accounts of Lammas lost sight of the derivation of the word and thought that it was to do with lambs – which is logical given the sound of the word. There are other festivals associated with Lammas but this post is only concerned with dating in terms of chronicle accounts.
