One Man's Garbage

I was recently reading an article about a Victorian-era find of garbage, and what it revealed. It was mentioned that "rooting around in personal trash  dumps allows license to excavate a narrative about a specific family. You can work out what sort of illnesses they had, what sorts of luxuries they enjoyed. You can match the objects to the people."

 

How true that it! So I decided to look into the 18th Century garbage can, as it were. Following Industrialization and urban growth, the buildup of waste in the cities and its management became more and more difficult to tend to. Streets, for instance in London, became choked with filth, with poor clearance regulations. Calls for the establishment of waste removal began in 1751 for the health and well-being of the citizens. It was proposed by Corbyn Morris that city cleaning would be put into one public management system, the waste conveyed to the Thames River.

 

The first occurrence of an organized system appeared, with waste collection established around the "dust yards", the "dust" being coal ash, which had a market value for brick-making and soil improver. Dust-contractors recovered  100% of the residual wastes remaining after readily saleable items and materials had been removed by the informal sector in the streets ('rag-and-bone men'). Kind of a recycle of product.

 

But cities were filled with horses and their waste material. Raw sewage ran through the streets. People threw waste out their windows from chamber pots, and fruits, vegetables, spoiled meats were left out in the street to rot. What a different picture, when we love to romanticize about a sweet little muse on a London square! Butcher stalls in the marketplace featured the "lovely" sight of entrails scattered on the pavement.

 

I read once account stating, "In 18th-century London, water was delivered to the city's residents through hollowed-out tree trunks running beneath the streets. Wealthier customers could buy spring water from private companies, but most residents used the sluggish, murky water of the Thames. Like many European rivers, the Thames was both the source of the city's drinking water and the repository of its discharge. It was also crowded with boats and barges, since it served as the city's main thoroughfare for commercial shipping. No attempt was made to filter the water or protect it from pollution until the middle of the 19th-century." No wonder a huge gin craze swept over London!

The sewers in London were designed to carry rainwater rather than sewage, and the pipes were poorly constructed at that!

Basically, it's not easy to find trash left behind considering the urban landscape, but at Fort Williams in Lochaber, Scotland, in 2007 a treasure trove of domestic waste was found, which included fragments of wine bottles, pottery, clay pipes and buttons! The pipes were generally long in shape, and allowed a cooler smoke, but broke more easily so they were often just thrown away after use. There are many to be found, equivalent to smoking a cigarette and tossing away the butt wherever. Nothing's changed here. 

Off with this Head?

Alas, poor William, I knew him, Horatio......well, at least when he was alive and well and had a head on his shoulders!!

Recently a team of archaeologists were claiming that William Shakespeare's head was probably stolen from his grave, where he was buried in Stratford-upon-on, in England. They have stated that in 1794, supposedly, trophy hunters took the head as somewhat of a prize. Kind of interesting to have the head of a genius in one's possession. Though the story of his missing head was long ago discredited,  new radar technological studies may prove the story needs further investigation.

Lead archaeologist Kevin Colls, of Staffordshire University, told The Guardian, British newspaper. "It was very obvious, within all the data we were getting, that there was something different going on at that particular spot. We have concluded it is signs of disturbance, of material being dug out and put back again."

Shakespeare, oddly enough, has an inscription on his grave that reads, "Good friend, for Jesus’ sake forbear, / To dig the dust enclosed here. / Blessed be the man that spares these stones, / And cursed be he that moves my bones." Who wants to play around with a threat like that? Look what happened with those who disturbed King Tut! The vicar of the Holy Trinity Church says that though he is not convinced of the grave robbery theory, church has no plans to allow an exhumation. 

Valentine's - 18th Century Style

That day of LOVE is coming around again, so I looked into some 18th century information and found the following: 

The Valentine's Day poem can be found in the collection of English nursery rhymes Gammer Gurton's Garland (1784):

The rose is red, the violet's blue,

The honey's sweet, and so are you.
Thou art my love and I am thine;
I drew thee to my Valentine:
The lot was cast and then I drew,

And Fortune said it shou'd be you.

Sounds familiar, huh?!

Also, in 1797, "The Young Man's Valentine Writer" was published in England, which held many suggestions for sentimental verse. This was supposed to help out the lovesick, lovelorn, the passionate, the flirtatious, etc. printers had already started producing Valentine stock cards, but there's nothing like a handmade card, with a special, personal greeting.

Personally, I like to receive a personal card, but lately I like to give a Valentine dessert treat. I'm working on that now as a matter of fact, but if it all goes south, I may have to - last minute - resort to an email greeting?? haha

Thank God for the option.

Remember, Remember, the 5th of November!

 Remember, remember the 5th of November!

 Today is Guy Fawkes Day, originating from the famous Gunpowder Plot of 1605, when a group of conspirators tried to assassinate the Protestant King of England, James I. They failed, but came quite close to pulling it off. Hoping to replace James I with a Catholic royal, Guy Fawkes along with his cohorts set a cache of explosives beneath the House of Lords, hoping to set it off upon James' entrance. They were caught in the act, and the failure has been celebrated ever since, to one degree or the other. The first celebration anniversary was allowed as long as there wasn't any danger, or disorder. It became an official observance with the "Thanksgiving Act", proposed by Edward Montagu, a Puritan member of Parliament. The Church even added to England's Book of Common Prayer, a service for the 5th of November.  

The holiday had a ghoulish trend to it as effigies of the Pope or Guy himself were burned in the streets, and of course, there are some who go to great lengths to gain financially from the festival.  

In 1790, the Times in London reported instances of children "begging for money for Guy Faux" and a report in 1802, described how a "Set of idle fellows...with some horrid figure dressed up as a Guy Faux" were convicted of begging and receiving money and committed to prison".

The print above shows a bonfire celebration outside Windsor Castle in 1776.

For the good of the day, one might care to watch V for Vendetta, a graphic novel turned movie, loosely based on Guy. Fun stuff. I love the mask!

A Bit of Nelson!

Tomorrow is the 210th anniversary of Royal Navy                                                                        Admiral Lord Nelson's death. Hero of the Battle of Trafalgar, he was killed at the confrontation's end by a French sniper's bullet. He died surrounded by his faithful officers, with knowledge that the British had won the battle, and the war with France was over. The date: October 21, 1805. Known for his aggressive boldness in battles and his many victories, he is considered one of the greatest military heroes of all time, not only of England, but of the world.

Here's an interesting bit: After his death, his pigtail, or queue as it is sometimes known, was cut off and sent to his mistress and true-love, Lady Emma Hamilton. The surgeon who was present at his death records that Nelson asked that Lady Hamilton should have his hair. Nelson's friend Vice-Admiral Thomas Hardy delivered it to Emma after the ship Victory arrived back in England. Small locks of the hair were given to family and close friends, and some of it was mounted in special mourning rings and broaches/lockets. Mourning jewelry was quite popular at the time. Hair was considered a particularly intimate gift.

Today, the pigtail resides in the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich, outside of London, England. It is part of the Greenwich Hospital Collection. 

A Tribute to Lord Nelson

Very soon now we will be remembering the famous Battle of Trafalgar, and the victory of the British Royal Navy under the command of Admiral Horatio Lord Nelson, and his unfortunate death. The historic date: October 21st, 1805. 

The battle took place off the Spanish coast at Cape Trafalgar. Using revolutionary tactics, Nelson planned the attack, having waited for the Spanish fleet to leave Cadiz. He achieved his greatest victory, annihilating the enemy and basically ending the long war between the French and Spanish against England. And yet, it was at greatest cost, a shot fired from on high from a French marine aiming at Nelson on the deck of Victory, Nelson's ship of the line. The bullet entered Nelson's left shoulder, going through his lung, and lodging in his spine between the fifth and sixth vertebrae. Four hours later, he was dead. Nelson was England's greatest hero. Personally, a flawed man, but historically accepted, one of the greatest commanders in all history.

One of the interesting things about naval battles from that time is that one must be carried on the wind and tide. There are no engines to rev up, no brakes to hit, no coming at the enemy going forward. One is at the mercy of the natural elements! That being said, the thing to do was to position the side of one's ship at the enemy, firing broadsides along the enemy' side, or better still, raking the stern with gunshots. This not only opened a gaping hole in the stern, but could take out the rudder, leaving the wounded ship no ability to steer.

So, the effect commander had to be one that "ANTICIPATED" the battle scene, trim sails ahead of the engagement to slow or speed progress, to judge the angle of the winds, the currents, etc. Nelson was a master at this, and proved it time and again. Now he was gone.

As Nelson's life slipped away, his vice-admiral Thomas Hardy, his loyal naval officer, stayed with him, having him removed from the decks, placing a handkerchief over his face to avoid alarming the crew. He was made comfortable, fanned and brought lemonade as he stated he was hot and thirsty. He asked that the Navy look after his beloved mistress Emma and his child by her, Horatia. His last words were "Kiss me, Hardy".  He knew he was dying, and wanted a departing kiss from his faithful officer.

His body was placed in  cask of brandy mixed with camphor and myrrh, and lashed to the Victory's mainmast, and a guard placed. Victory, sustaining some damage, was towed to Gibraltar after the battle, and the body was put into a lead-lined coffin filled with spirits of wine.

It is a good thing for us that the navy kept a log, and the history is documented. Eventually, Nelson was brought back to England. There was an enormous state-style funeral, most usually reserved for royalty. A mighty procession headed first up the Thames from Greenwich to Whitehall, then Whitehall by horse-drawn procession to St. Paul's Cathedral where he was buried in the famous crypt below the church. He was brought by six black horses, adorned with black plumes, the coffin mounted displayed on the horse-drawn carriage resembling the Victory.

Every year, the Cathedral holds a special 'Sea Service' on the Sunday closest to Trafalgar Day, when wreaths are laid at Nelson's tomb. He is remembered each year; unfortunately Emma, Lady Hamilton, was not provided for, but that's another day's story.

A Pie is not always a pasty!

I have been watching the new PBS series, Poldark, set in the 18th Century. The leading character, Russ Poldark, is from Cornwall, England.  After fighting in the American Revolutionary War, with General Cornwallis' defeat,  the British soldiers return home, Poldark, among them, only to find his father dead, their lands left unkempt, and their copper mine abandoned. Russ picks up the mantle, and tries to make a go of it. It's a good story, based on a series of novels by British author Winston Greene (1908 – 2003). (He also wrote Marnie in 1961, later turned into the Alfred Hitchcock film).

Cornwall is noted for its tin and copper mines, producing the majority of the UK's production of these metals until very recently. So, mining was the thing in the region, hence the story revolves around the importance to the success or failure of the area residents.

And, now for the best part! The Cornish pasty! During the 17th and 18th centuries the pasty became popular with the workers in Cornwall, the miners adopting it as the food of choice for their daily fare. It had a unique shape, forming a complete meal that could be carried easily and eaten without forks or knives. In the mines,  the pasty's dense, folded pastry would stay warm for several hours, and if it did get cold it could easily be warmed on a shovel over a candle flame!

The side-crimped edge gave rise to the thought that the miner might have eaten the pasty holding the thick edge of pastry, which was later thrown away,  ensuring that his dirty fingers  did not touch food or his mouth. There was fear of intake of arsenic. This may or may not be true, but I don't believe poor folk would throw away any food.

The recipe for the Cornish pasty, includes diced or minced beef, onion, potato and swede (a turnip type vegetable) in rough chunks seasoned lightly with pepper and salt. The cut of beef used is usually skirt steak. Sometimes carrots are included, but generally frowned upon in Cornwall. Baked in shortcut barley flour pastry 'til golden brown, they make a hearty meal.  

There is a belief that the pastry on a good pasty should be strong enough to withstand a drop down a mine shaft! By the way, the pasty recipe and its traditional "D" shape have a protected status. A meat pie may not always be a pasty!