Cock-Threshing was an old medieval sport practiced on Shrove Tuesday, and still popular in Pepys day. A Dutch tourist in 1663 described the practice as: "In London one sees in every street, wherever one goes, many apprentice boys running with, under their arms, a cock with a string on its foot, on which is a spike, which they push firmly into the ground between the stones. They always look for an open space and, for a penny, let people throw their cudgel from a good distance at the cock and he who kills the cock gets it."
Why kill the cocks? Because eggs and meat are about to go off the menu.
Other fun traditions of Shrove Tuesday included cock-fighting, football, eating pancakes, tossing dogs in the air, and, under the Stuarts, apprentice riots.
The city of London banned throwing at cocks in 1704. But it continued, just out of town, well into the 1760s.
"This day the Commissioners of Parliament begin to pay off the Fleet, beginning with the Hampshire, and do it at Guildhall, for fear of going out of town into the power of the seamen, who are highly incensed against them."
So these poor sailors who have been captive on their ships for months, with no way to earn money, now have to journey to London to be given half their money, and script, which will be sold at a discount to Londoners (often innkeepers) who can collect when the money becomes available. No wonder the MPs are afraid. And yes, at first reading, Pepys did see it as a way of getting the men released and home -- but when he realized the cost to the men and how they would express their displeasure, he wasn't so keen.
Site of Execution Dock, Wapping, England Where condemned pirates met their end at the gallows on the River Thames.
THE CITY OF LONDON WAS once the largest port in the world, and as such attracted its share of pirates and smugglers. Policing the port was the responsibility of the Admiralty court, which often handed down the death sentence to those convicted of piracy.
Prisoners would be marched along the south side of the Thames, across London Bridge, past the Tower, and to the foreshore of the river in Wapping. They ended their journey, and their lives, at the site known as Execution Dock.
Pirates meeting their end on the gallows at Execution Dock were allegedly subject to an unusual hanging: The rope was purposely too short to break the neck on the drop, so the condemned would be strangled, appearing to dance as their limbs twitched as they died. Their bodies were often left hanging until three tides had washed over them.
Particularly notorious pirates’ corpses were tarred and placed in cages (known as gibbets) along the river as a warning to others.
Capt. William Kidd is probably the most famous swashbuckler to meet his end this way in 1701; his gibbeted body was left in the Thames estuary for 3 years.
All traces of Execution Dock are long gone; after 400 years of use the last pirates stepped off in 1830. The location of the former dock is disputed, with 3 riverside pubs claiming the site: the Prospect of Whitby (which comes complete with replica gallows), the Captain Kidd, and the Town of Ramsgate which is thought to be the most likely location. Down a narrow alley along the western side of the pub, you’ll find some stairs known as the Wapping Old Steps. At low tide, they lead all the way down to the river foreshore, to what may well have been the site of Execution Dock.
Know Before You Go: The stairs only lead to the foreshore at low tide, so time your visit accordingly. Watch out for mud and debris when walking down toward the water. There is no sign indicating the location of the dock. However, the pub named The Town of Ramsgate is situated along Wapping High Street; take the narrow lane named Wapping Old Stairs E. The dock is about a 15 minute walk along the Thames Path from the Tower of London to the South and Wapping Station to the North.
"Thursday 31 January 1660/61 "This morning with Mr. Coventry at Whitehall about getting a ship to carry my Lord’s deals to Lynne, and we have chosen the Gift."
EITHER Sandwich planned to buy planks in France for whatever reason, and asked Pepys and Coventry to find a way to ship them from Deal to King's Lynne.
OR while sitting idle in Portsmouth for a month, Sandwich found a local supplier of New Forest lumber, and needed planks shipped from Portsmouth to King's Lynn
"To my Lord’s with Mr. Creed (who was come to me this morning to get a bill of imprest signed), ... Afterwards to my Lord’s and Mr. Shepley and I did make even his accounts and mine."
Our Encyclopedia has a page for Financial Transactions, which gives helpful background info on how money was juggled in Pepys' time. I say juggled because there wasn't enough coin minted to cover the daily transactions of the nation, but they had worked out how to fund Petty Cash as explained above. England was then, as now, a nation run on credit, but without the interest rates we are hit with. Quarter Day settlements were important; as soon as some coins hit your hand, you gave them to a supplier to up-date your account. Visualize an entire nation running around 4 times a year paying off IOUs and Bill of Impress and Tally Sticks!
Not that this entry has anything to do with Quarter Day. This was settling up at the end of Sandwich's voyage (Creed must have been Treasurer -- and the Imprest must have been large for a 5 week Royal outing with many unexpected expenses for doctors, etc.), and the end of Pepys' control of the Sandwich Whitehall household in Shepley's absence. He who controls the money is in charge. https://www.pepysdiary.com/encycl…
Kevin Sheerstone on 10 Feb 2004 explained 'a bill of imprest signed':
"In accounting an imprest account is one set up in anticipation of charges that are bound to be incurred, but which cannot be identified in advance with any speficity. 'Petty Cash' is a good example - when the balance gets a bit low for comfort it is replenished to an appropriate level by means of an imprest.
"In this context it probably means money advanced to Sam for expenses in connection with his official duties; he will presumably account for it later."
"He had dined at Havre de Grace on Monday last, and came to the Downs the next day, and lay at Canterbury that night [TUES]; and so to Dartford [WED], and thence this morning to White Hall."
The Rev. Ralph, in Essex, says the weather "Feb. 10: from the 6. to this night most misling, but dark weather, ..."
Today the driving distance between Canterbury and Deal is 18 miles. Let's guess it's a 3 hour trip by coach in misling weather, less if Sandwich was on horseback. Nicer hotels -- possibly more friends with country houses who could accommodate his entourage -- in Canterbury. Less opportunity for gossip amongst the local 'intelligencers'. Sandwich leaves Deal and its locale to the troops.
"He had dined at Havre de Grace on Monday last, and came to the Downs the next day, and lay at Canterbury that night [TUES]; and so to Dartford [WED], and thence this morning to White Hall. "
To accommodate the Queen Mother, the out-bound route was Portsmouth to Le Havre, where she could either ride or take a river boat up the River Seign to Paris. To accommodate the fleet and Sandwich, the in-bound route was Le Havre to (probably) Deal.
"The town of Deal served the anchorage of The Downs, where navy ships were stationed ... . Homebound ships put passengers and mail ashore at Deal, to take the faster overland route to London; it was a crucial entry point for intelligence from everywhere." https://www.pepysdiary.com/encycl…
Portsmouth was not the Navy Town we think of today. I think it was too far from London for convenience, and England's relationship with Catholic France made it less important.
Deal's proximity to London and the Protestant United Providences made it more important.
Another English king who suffered from gout was Henry VIII. No wonder, as the man ended up almost as broad as he was tall (and he was over 6 ft.). A contemporary to Henry VIII was Katherine of Aragon's nephew, the Habsburg Emperor Charles. Blood is always thick when we’re talking Habsburgs — so thick that for centuries they preferred to marry close relatives. Charles was a fellow gout sufferer—confirmed by examining his finger in 2006.
Isaac Newton had gout, as did Christopher Columbus, Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci and the Swedish king, Gustav II Adolf. Those men rarely bothered with kale and salads or low-fat dairy products.
Those who suffer from gout may find comfort in knowing how many geniuses and powerful people were fellow sufferers. But probably not.
For about as long as humans have lived in civilisations — complex structures that allow some rule while the others serve, gout has been a recurring affliction. Why? Because it is essentially a life-style disease. Eat too much red meat, drink too much beer and/or wine and you may end up with a gouty joint. But it is not that simple: gout is also from genes as it is a form of arthritis.
Gout is caused by excess uric acid in the blood, leading to swelling, acute pain and redness. Essentially, the uric acid forms miniature crystals that happily converge on the closest joint. Sometimes, gout is chronic, causing permanent damage to the joints. These days, there is medication available that can alleviate the symptoms. Not so back in the days of yore.
The Egyptians were familiar with gout, and in the 5th century BC, Hippocrates called it the “unwalkable disease”.
By then, gout was known as podraga. Romans had it — Seneca commented on that even women could get it, adding a snarky comment that it was no wonder, given just how lecherous these modern women could be. But mostly gout has been a male affliction.
Alexander the Great had gout. As he died in his thirties: how much meat and wine did he consumed on a daily basis?
Charlemagne was another fellow sufferer.
In the medieval period, everyone knew podraga was the result of an imbalance in the humours. If the 4 humours governing health (blood, yellow bile, black bile and phlegm) weren’t balanced, a drop of the excess humour could slither down your veins and settle in your joint, hence the inflammation.
This theory was also the background to the term gout, as Latin for “drop” is “gutta”, and in the late 12th century a Dominican monk named Randolphus of Bocking working for the Bishop of Chichester is credited with shortening the cumbersome “gutta quam podagram vel artiticam vocant” (the drop that causes podraga or arthritis) into “gutta” which became gout.
By 1294 the physicians had discovered a substance that helped gout, namely colchicine, the toxin in autumn crocuses. (How did they discover that? Did they first try to ingest it -- a bad idea as it is very poisonous. Or was it a case of a desperate physician rushing outside to escape the raging of his angry, hurting patient and stumbling across some autumn crocuses, and thinking “well, at least they’re pretty to look at”, before grabbing a bunch and pulverising them into a salve which -- amazingly -- helped?)
By medieval times, physicians were also convinced it helped to change your diet to minimise the discomfort caused by gout. That advice was not always well-received.
This article is about men's reluctance from the 16th to 21st century to discuss urological and sexual information with their doctors -- until pain is involved. Surprisingly the author doesn't use Pepys as an example, but does cite this incident which reminded me of Pepys:
https://www.historytoday.com/arch… "Perhaps surprisingly, there were some conditions that men openly and freely discussed. In particular they seemingly discussed bladder stones and their associated symptoms without concern. Some men even showed off the stones they had managed to pass. "Mathew Purmann noted that in the late 17th century ‘Baron Van Horst Lieutenant Colonel of the Hannover Troops’ had kept his bladder stones and ‘in the year [of] 1687 shewed me a great Box full of Angular, Oval and Round Stones which came from him in Six Weeks Time, the largest whereof was about the bigness of a great Pea’."
Keeping the evidence in a box was apparently fashionable.
So Lady Sandwich wasn't lying in wait for the Admiral at Hampton Court. She just went for an outing the other day.
@@@
The Queen Mother, Minette, Sandwich, Buckingham, Abbe Walter Montagu, St. Albans and the luggage left London on January 2. https://www.pepysdiary.com/diary/…
Sickness and storms kept the fleet at Portsmouth. On a good day it's roughly a 24 hour sail to La Havre (depending on the wind and tides). This trip took 5 weeks, and I am guessing there were many games of cards and many "interesting" moments when Sandwich played host to all these Royalists who, while being grateful for his support of the Restoration, still must have regarded him as a questionable Johnnie-come-lately to the party.
This discourtesy by Buckingham sounds like a "last straw" challenge from an extremely frustrated host to his most outrageous guest, with whom he had been entombed on a tiny ship for far too long.
Imagine a duel -- which was illegal in France and Charles II had banned in England, but had a hard time punishing when conducted by his friends -- when the Admiral of the Fleet was wounded or killed by Charles II's BFF. Or vice versa. It would have been a diplomatic disaster on both sides of the Channel.
9. Mermaid Court At the time of writing, the entrance to Mermaid Court sports wraparound vinyl-art that couldn’t be more out of keeping with the alley’s antiquity. But its words are inspired by the area’s history: "Stories play, They dance, They sway, On the walls of memories, Dreams of present stay." The artwork by Farouk Agoro speaks of historical and folk memories, and is inspired by local ‘ghost signs’, fading old adverts on brick walls visible after the demise of the businesses they promote. It’s the most notable aspect of Mermaid Court, which is a featureless cut-through to the housing behind. I find little about the Mermaid Inn. It’s mentioned along with the King’s Arms in 1565, so was ancient. It once stood against the side of the Marshalsea Prison, before that moved a few alleyways south.
10. Chapel Court Chapel Court is one of the few alleys that leads nowhere, unless you have business with the Diocese of Southwark headquarters.
You may be lured in by the sight of a half-timbered building. But I’m pretty sure that uPVC double-glazed windows were not the norm. The door also looks suspiciously 1980s. Little can be found online about this Frankenstein building. It seems to be a modern pastiche (using old timbers). Newspapers from 1986 advertise a “Pilgrims Medieval Banquet” on Chapel Court — a gastronomic tourist magnet. These may be its remains. Sadly, the alley’s chief attraction, the Blue Eyed Maid pub, closed a few years ago and is now in a sorry state. This was another ancient pub, and Chapel Court was once known as Blue Maid Alley.
11. Angel Place We pass a further short, unnamed alley, dominated by the Royal British Legion, and head into our final passage beside the John Harvard Library (spend a few minutes reading a book here, and you can claim you studied at Harvard!). Angel Place is perhaps the most interesting of all Borough’s alleys, as it's here we find the remains of the Marshalsea Prison. This notorious jail originally stood on Mermaid Court, but moved south a few metres in the early 19th century. It was mostly for debtors who, despite their bankruptcy, still had to pay fees for their lodgings. The Marshalsea closed in 1842 and was mostly demolished. However, Angel Place contains substantial remnants of its southern wall. You can even pass through the Marshalsea wall via an arch, into a pocket park beside St. George the Martyr church.
Excerpted from The Curious Alleys Of Borough High Street The strange history lurking off London's oldest road -- by MATT BROWN FEB 7, 2024 https://londonist.substack.com/p/…
5. Queen’s Head Yard A pub of this name was first recorded on this site in 1587, and was previously known as the Crossed Keys. The name change may have occurred during the Reformation, when symbols of Papacy (such as St. Peter’s keys) were hastily removed from pub signs in favour of something safer (not that Queens' heads were any safer in Henry VIII’s time). The Queen’s Head was briefly owned by John Harvard, before he took off to the New World to find posthumous fame in his namesake university. Nothing down the surviving runt of an alleyway reminds us of its presence.
6. Kentish Buildings Finally, we reach a trio of alleys whose name does not have a direct pub connection. But it used to. This was once Christopher’s Alley, named after the 16th century Christopher Inn -- a descendant of which can still be found beside one entrance. The alley seems to have changed names to Kentish Buildings at the end of the 18th century, in tribute to the hop trade (a hallmark of Kent) which flourished in this part of Borough. Kentish Buildings today is not much to look at, but it is the only alley on Borough High Street where you can still find a room at an inn. The Christopher runs a hostel in the surrounding buildings, while the southern prong of Kentish Buildings houses a new-build Premier Inn.
7. Nag’s Head Yard This one’s so obscure it doesn’t even merit a label on OpenStreetMap, which usually treats thoroughness as an extreme sport. This is yet another alley named after a pub. Known as the Horse’s Head in ancient times, it became the Nag sometime in the 17th century. The alley today does not look promising. It’s clearly a service and parking yard for the Premier Inn. But look again. It has retained its cart-worn flagstones flanked by stone setts, probably from the Victorian era. Meanwhile, a tall brick wall to the back of the yard is of similar vintage. It may well have stood at the same time as the forgotten pub. Sadly, the yard is gated off in the middle.
8. Newcomen Street (formerly Axe and Bottle Yard) Newcomen Street is a real street these days, not an alley, but you should still go down it if only to see the King’s Arms pub. The royal coat of arms above the door is a remnant of Old London Bridge. It once adorned the old Stonegate — an arched entrance to the bridge. This was demolished in 1760, but the coat of arms was rescued and placed on the pub. Like the Old King’s Head, the pub has a lovely ‘old school’ vibe to it. According to the Inns of Old Southwark, a man called Richard Griffin died here in 1736 at the grand age of 116. His funeral featured 116 ancient pall-bearers. Until the 19th century this was Axe and Bottle Yard, named after a local tavern. The yard has been widened and knocked through to Snowfields, but it still retains a slight kink of old.
The King’s Head is still there — a Victorian rebuild — and it’s one of those charming, unreconstructed pubs that still has a carpet and a free-to-hire function room. Beyond, the alley curves gently and leads through to King’s College or, with a swift volte-face, curves round into our next alley…
2. White Hart Yard The White Hart coaching inn vanished long ago, but it has left a mighty impression on popular culture. It was in the White Hart in 1450 that Jack Cade set up headquarters, before leading his rebellion into London proper. The incident is immortalised in Shakespeare’s Henry IV, Part 2. The inn also made an appearance in Dickens. It was at the White Swan that Mr. Pickwick first met Sam Weller. The original pub was probably built in the reign of Richard II, whose symbol was a white hart. It was a mighty collection of buildings, comparable to a small village with rooms for 100 people. Like so much on Borough High Street, it burned down in 1676, but was soon rebuilt. The replacement lasted until 1889. The alley still retains a drinking den in the shape of the Coach House. This modern bar is affiliated with the George, which stands in its own neighbouring yard. Today there’s a cut-through from White Hart Yard, a communication that never existed in ye olden days.
3. The George Inn This next yard carries no nameplate, but it’s easily the most-visited of Borough High Street’s offshoots, for it contains the world-famous George Inn. This Grade I-listed building has stood since the 17th century, but its previous incarnations date back to medieval times. Shakespeare almost certainly drank here. The pub was named after St. George and was, for a time, known as the George and Dragon. As you’ll have appreciated by now, Borough once contained many pubs of this ilk, with large courtyards for horse-drawn vehicles and galleried accommodation. George is the last man standing. There is much more to say about this fine pub, and I refer you to Pete Brown’s biography of the place, called 'Shakespeare’s Local].
4. Talbot Yard In The Canterbury Tales, Chaucer's motley band set off from the Tabard Inn, which was the real hostelry that once stood in Talbot Yard. The original Tabard burned down in the fire of 1676. It was rebuilt as the Talbot, hence the current alley’s name. Talbot Yard carries on to the east, offering a semi-obstructed view of the back of the George, before threading through the service roads of King’s College to join up with White Hart Yard and King’s Head Yard.
This group has heard of the George Inn, Southwark. But what’s down the many other historic alleys off Borough High Street?
Borough High Street in Southwark is ancient. Two of the most important Roman roads — later called Stane Street and Watling Street and, later still, Kennington Park Road (A3) and the Old Kent Road (A2) — converged near modern-day Borough tube station, whence commingled they pushed north to London Bridge. This bit, the approach to the bridge, is now called Borough High Street. It is pickled in 2,000 years of history. It might be London’s oldest road.
Borough High Street was noted for its coaching inns. They served as starting points for horse-drawn journeys to the south. They also accommodated people arriving in London too late to cross the bridge, which was typically closed after sundown. A dozen such inns sprung up along the road during medieval times. Sadly, most were destroyed in a Great Fire — one specific to the Borough in 1676.
[The Great Fire of Southwark began on 26 May 1676 in a building where a man sold oil and paint. The fire spread quickly and it was only brought under control by blowing up houses to create fire breaks. However, the burned parts of Southwark were soon rebuilt. The death toll is not known but it is believed that more people died in the Great Fire of Southwark than in the Great Fire of London. -- https://localhistories.org/a-hist… ]
The inns were rebuilt, and most lasted into the Victorian era. By the 1880s, their trade had been erased by a force more powerful than fire — the railways. The hundreds of rooms offered by the inns could no longer find occupants. Most were torn down. Only the George Inn remains in something like its original form. The rest are remembered in the names of the alleys which branch off from the eastern side of Borough High Street.
John Rocque’s map of 1746 shows the 11 alleys we’re about to explore. Some have changed names.
These explorations are aided by a remarkable book, The Inns of Old Southwark (1888) which was written in the final days of the old coaching inns. It contains many gorgeous and rare illustrations of these lost taverns, some of which are reproduced on the link below.
These notes are written so you can virtually venture out from your armchair. Let’s start at the northern end of the street:
1. King’s Head Yard The King’s Head was put up after the Great Fire of Southwark and lasted more than 200 years. The face of Henry VIII hangs over the entrance to King’s Head Yard. Don’t let the old brute put you off. This is one of the most atmospheric — and yes, often the most uric — alleyways on the high street. Still, it’s not as welcoming to the eye as in former days. As the illustration shows, the namesake King’s Head inn once filled the courtyard, with galleried buildings on either side. It was pulled down in 1885.
The upper town to the north, is part of the cauchois plateau: the neighbourhood of Dollemard is its highest point (between 90 and 115 metres (295 and 377 ft) above sea level). The plateau is covered with a layer of flinty clay and a fertile silt. The bedrock consists of chalk measuring up to 200 m (656 ft) deep. Because of the slope the coast is prone to landslides.
Due to Le Havre's location, the climate is temperate oceanic. Days without wind are rare.
Le Havre's beach may rarely experience flooding. These are caused by a combination of strong winds, high waves, and a large tidal range.
Crossing times to Portsmouth vary ... Popular alternative routes going to areas close to Le Havre include Newhaven to Dieppe, and Poole to Cherbourg.
The name of the town was attested in 1489, even before it was founded by François I in the form le Hable de Grace then Ville de Grace in 1516, 2 years before its official founding. The name Franciscopolis is found in some documents, also that of Havre Marat (referring to Jean-Paul Marat during the French Revolution but was not imposed). After the French Revolution the '-de-Grace' was not restored which undoubtedly referred to the Chapel of Notre Dame located at the site of the cathedral of the same name. The chapel faced the Chapel Notre Dame de Grace of Honfleur across the estuary.
The oldest building still standing in Le Havre is Graville Abbey, a monastery dedicated to Sainte Honorine, set in grounds on the northern bank of the Seine River. The other medieval building in the city is the Chapel of St.-Michel of Ingouville. Because of the bombing in 1944, buildings from the Early Modern era arerare: Le Havre Cathedral: the first stone of the building was laid in 1536, and the Church of St. Francis are concentrated in the Notre-Dame and St.-François areas.
The Norman language is still used by the people of Le Havre, part of which is identified as speaking cauchois. Among the Norman words used are: boujou (hello, goodbye), clenche (door handle), morveux (veuse) (child), and bezot (te) (last born).
Le Havre was the birthplace of: Georges de Scudéry (1601–1667), novelist, dramatist and poet. Madeleine de Scudéry (1607–1701), writer. ...
Le Havre: Norman: Lé Hâvre [lɛ ɑvʁ(é)]) is a major port city in the Seine-Maritime department in the Normandy region of northern France.
It is situated on the right bank of the estuary of the river Seine on the Channel southwest of the Pays de Caux, close to the Prime Meridian. The name Le Havre means "the harbour" or "the port". Its inhabitants are known as Havrais or Havraises.
The city and port were founded by King Francis I in 1517. Economic development in the Early Modern period was hampered by religious wars, conflicts with the English, epidemics, and storms. It was from the end of the 18th century that Le Havre started growing and the port took off first with the slave trade then other international trade. ,,,
TODAY: Le Havre is located 50 kilometres (31 miles) west of Rouen on the shore of the English Channel and at the mouth of the Seine. Numerous roads link to Le Havre with the main access roads being the A29 autoroute from Amiens and the A13 autoroute from Paris linking to the A131 autoroute.
TODAY: Administratively, Le Havre is a commune in the Normandy region in the west of the department of Seine-Maritime. The urban area corresponds roughly to the territory of the Agglomeration community of Le Havre (CODAH) which includes 17 communes ... .
Le Havre occupies the south-western tip of the natural region of Pays de Caux where it is the largest city. It is sandwiched between the coast of the Channel from south-west to north-west and the estuary of the Seine to the south.
When founded in 1517, Le Havre was named Franciscopolis after Francis I. It was subsequently named Le Havre-de-Grâce ("Harbor of Grace"). Its construction was ordered to replace the ancient harbours of Honfleur and Harfleur whose utility had decreased due to silting.
Le Havre is inextricably linked to its harbour. In the 18th century, as trade from the West Indies was added to that of France and Europe, Le Havre began to grow.
The commune of Le Havre consists of 2 areas separated by a natural cliff: one part in the lower part of the town to the south including the harbour, the city centre and the suburbs. It was built on former marshland and mudflats that were drained in the 16th century. The soil consists of several metres of silt deposited by the Seine.
HayW -- you are right! That obvious answer never occurred to me, but I found this article which confirms your point: 'Lice are a common winter problem in cattle, especially in cold climates. Heavy infestations can rob valuable nutrition when cattle need it most, decreasing gain and leaving cattle more susceptible to disease.' (In calves, moderate-to-heavy lice infestation has led to a 0.21 lbs/day reduced weight gain, according to a University of Nebraska-Lincoln study.) https://www.beefmagazine.com/catt…
Not being a farm girl, that is outside my experience. What we learn from Pepys' Diary!
Yes, the article is about American cattle, but the fact that lice are a winter problem means the information can be applied to Britain.
The article continues further down 'Lice are spread by direct contact; calves pick up lice from their mothers or herdmates. Lice can infest cattle all year round, but their numbers are typically low in summer because most lice shed off in spring with winter hair, says Jack Campbell, a University of Nebraska professor emeritus and veterinary entomologist.
'Maintaining cattle on a high plane of nutrition is the first step in lice control. “You need to ensure they’re healthy going into winter and well fed,” Williams says. Healthy cattle in good body condition have more resistance to lice and rarely carry heavy loads, he adds.'
Treatment today is with insecticides -- who knows what Rev. Ralph used.
Comments
Third Reading
About Shrove Tuesday
San Diego Sarah • Link
Susanna on 28 Feb 2004 added this:
Cock-Threshing was an old medieval sport practiced on Shrove Tuesday, and still popular in Pepys day. A Dutch tourist in 1663 described the practice as:
"In London one sees in every street, wherever one goes, many apprentice boys running with, under their arms, a cock with a string on its foot, on which is a spike, which they push firmly into the ground between the stones. They always look for an open space and, for a penny, let people throw their cudgel from a good distance at the cock and he who kills the cock gets it."
Why kill the cocks? Because eggs and meat are about to go off the menu.
Other fun traditions of Shrove Tuesday included cock-fighting, football, eating pancakes, tossing dogs in the air, and, under the Stuarts, apprentice riots.
The city of London banned throwing at cocks in 1704. But it continued, just out of town, well into the 1760s.
About Wednesday 27 February 1660/61
San Diego Sarah • Link
"This day the Commissioners of Parliament begin to pay off the Fleet, beginning with the Hampshire, and do it at Guildhall, for fear of going out of town into the power of the seamen, who are highly incensed against them."
So these poor sailors who have been captive on their ships for months, with no way to earn money, now have to journey to London to be given half their money, and script, which will be sold at a discount to Londoners (often innkeepers) who can collect when the money becomes available. No wonder the MPs are afraid. And yes, at first reading, Pepys did see it as a way of getting the men released and home -- but when he realized the cost to the men and how they would express their displeasure, he wasn't so keen.
As I recall this Parliamentary Commission included William Prynne MP
https://www.pepysdiary.com/encycl…
Col. John Birch MP
https://www.pepysdiary.com/encycl…
and the Lord Mayor of London, Sir Richard Browne MP
https://www.pepysdiary.com/encycl…
Col. Edward King MP
https://www.pepysdiary.com/encycl…
William Jessop was a clerk -- probably an equal to Mr. Hayter. He was a former Admiralty official (secretary to Warwick 1642-5 and to the Admiralty Committee 1645-53), after which he moved to the Council of State (Assistant Clerk in 1653, and Clerk 1654-9, 1659-60).
https://www.pepysdiary.com/encycl…
About Wapping
San Diego Sarah • Link
Site of Execution Dock, Wapping, England
Where condemned pirates met their end at the gallows on the River Thames.
THE CITY OF LONDON WAS once the largest port in the world, and as such attracted its share of pirates and smugglers. Policing the port was the responsibility of the Admiralty court, which often handed down the death sentence to those convicted of piracy.
Prisoners would be marched along the south side of the Thames, across London Bridge, past the Tower, and to the foreshore of the river in Wapping. They ended their journey, and their lives, at the site known as Execution Dock.
Pirates meeting their end on the gallows at Execution Dock were allegedly subject to an unusual hanging: The rope was purposely too short to break the neck on the drop, so the condemned would be strangled, appearing to dance as their limbs twitched as they died. Their bodies were often left hanging until three tides had washed over them.
Particularly notorious pirates’ corpses were tarred and placed in cages (known as gibbets) along the river as a warning to others.
Capt. William Kidd is probably the most famous swashbuckler to meet his end this way in 1701; his gibbeted body was left in the Thames estuary for 3 years.
All traces of Execution Dock are long gone; after 400 years of use the last pirates stepped off in 1830. The location of the former dock is disputed, with 3 riverside pubs claiming the site:
the Prospect of Whitby (which comes complete with replica gallows),
the Captain Kidd,
and the Town of Ramsgate which is thought to be the most likely location. Down a narrow alley along the western side of the pub, you’ll find some stairs known as the Wapping Old Steps. At low tide, they lead all the way down to the river foreshore, to what may well have been the site of Execution Dock.
Know Before You Go:
The stairs only lead to the foreshore at low tide, so time your visit accordingly. Watch out for mud and debris when walking down toward the water.
There is no sign indicating the location of the dock. However, the pub named The Town of Ramsgate is situated along Wapping High Street; take the narrow lane named Wapping Old Stairs E.
The dock is about a 15 minute walk along the Thames Path from the Tower of London to the South and Wapping Station to the North.
For pictures, see https://www.atlasobscura.com/plac…
About Monday 11 February 1660/61
San Diego Sarah • Link
The deals:
"Thursday 31 January 1660/61
"This morning with Mr. Coventry at Whitehall about getting a ship to carry my Lord’s deals to Lynne, and we have chosen the Gift."
EITHER Sandwich planned to buy planks in France for whatever reason, and asked Pepys and Coventry to find a way to ship them from Deal to King's Lynne.
OR while sitting idle in Portsmouth for a month, Sandwich found a local supplier of New Forest lumber, and needed planks shipped from Portsmouth to King's Lynn
Pepys doesn't answer this question.
About Saturday 9 February 1660/61
San Diego Sarah • Link
"To my Lord’s with Mr. Creed (who was come to me this morning to get a bill of imprest signed), ... Afterwards to my Lord’s and Mr. Shepley and I did make even his accounts and mine."
Our Encyclopedia has a page for Financial Transactions, which gives helpful background info on how money was juggled in Pepys' time.
I say juggled because there wasn't enough coin minted to cover the daily transactions of the nation, but they had worked out how to fund Petty Cash as explained above.
England was then, as now, a nation run on credit, but without the interest rates we are hit with.
Quarter Day settlements were important; as soon as some coins hit your hand, you gave them to a supplier to up-date your account. Visualize an entire nation running around 4 times a year paying off IOUs and Bill of Impress and Tally Sticks!
Not that this entry has anything to do with Quarter Day.
This was settling up at the end of Sandwich's voyage (Creed must have been Treasurer -- and the Imprest must have been large for a 5 week Royal outing with many unexpected expenses for doctors, etc.), and the end of Pepys' control of the Sandwich Whitehall household in Shepley's absence. He who controls the money is in charge.
https://www.pepysdiary.com/encycl…
About Financial transactions
San Diego Sarah • Link
Kevin Sheerstone on 10 Feb 2004 explained 'a bill of imprest signed':
"In accounting an imprest account is one set up in anticipation of charges that are bound to be incurred, but which cannot be identified in advance with any speficity. 'Petty Cash' is a good example - when the balance gets a bit low for comfort it is replenished to an appropriate level by means of an imprest.
"In this context it probably means money advanced to Sam for expenses in connection with his official duties; he will presumably account for it later."
This reminded him why he gave up accountancy.
About Thursday 7 February 1660/61
San Diego Sarah • Link
"He had dined at Havre de Grace on Monday last, and came to the Downs the next day, and lay at Canterbury that night [TUES]; and so to Dartford [WED], and thence this morning to White Hall."
The Rev. Ralph, in Essex, says the weather "Feb. 10: from the 6. to this night most misling, but dark weather, ..."
Today the driving distance between Canterbury and Deal is 18 miles. Let's guess it's a 3 hour trip by coach in misling weather, less if Sandwich was on horseback. Nicer hotels -- possibly more friends with country houses who could accommodate his entourage -- in Canterbury. Less opportunity for gossip amongst the local 'intelligencers'. Sandwich leaves Deal and its locale to the troops.
About Thursday 7 February 1660/61
San Diego Sarah • Link
"He had dined at Havre de Grace on Monday last, and came to the Downs the next day, and lay at Canterbury that night [TUES]; and so to Dartford [WED], and thence this morning to White Hall. "
To accommodate the Queen Mother, the out-bound route was Portsmouth to Le Havre, where she could either ride or take a river boat up the River Seign to Paris. To accommodate the fleet and Sandwich, the in-bound route was Le Havre to (probably) Deal.
"The town of Deal served the anchorage of The Downs, where navy ships were stationed ... . Homebound ships put passengers and mail ashore at Deal, to take the faster overland route to London; it was a crucial entry point for intelligence from everywhere."
https://www.pepysdiary.com/encycl…
Portsmouth was not the Navy Town we think of today. I think it was too far from London for convenience, and England's relationship with Catholic France made it less important.
Deal's proximity to London and the Protestant United Providences made it more important.
About Gout
San Diego Sarah • Link
CONCLUSION:
Another English king who suffered from gout was Henry VIII. No wonder, as the man ended up almost as broad as he was tall (and he was over 6 ft.).
A contemporary to Henry VIII was Katherine of Aragon's nephew, the Habsburg Emperor Charles. Blood is always thick when we’re talking Habsburgs — so thick that for centuries they preferred to marry close relatives. Charles was a fellow gout sufferer—confirmed by examining his finger in 2006.
Isaac Newton had gout, as did Christopher Columbus, Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci and the Swedish king, Gustav II Adolf. Those men rarely bothered with kale and salads or low-fat dairy products.
Those who suffer from gout may find comfort in knowing how many geniuses and powerful people were fellow sufferers. But probably not.
Excerpted from: https://www.annabelfrage.com/2024…
About Gout
San Diego Sarah • Link
For about as long as humans have lived in civilisations — complex structures that allow some rule while the others serve, gout has been a recurring affliction. Why? Because it is essentially a life-style disease. Eat too much red meat, drink too much beer and/or wine and you may end up with a gouty joint. But it is not that simple: gout is also from genes as it is a form of arthritis.
Gout is caused by excess uric acid in the blood, leading to swelling, acute pain and redness. Essentially, the uric acid forms miniature crystals that happily converge on the closest joint. Sometimes, gout is chronic, causing permanent damage to the joints. These days, there is medication available that can alleviate the symptoms. Not so back in the days of yore.
The Egyptians were familiar with gout, and in the 5th century BC, Hippocrates called it the “unwalkable disease”.
By then, gout was known as podraga. Romans had it — Seneca commented on that even women could get it, adding a snarky comment that it was no wonder, given just how lecherous these modern women could be. But mostly gout has been a male affliction.
Alexander the Great had gout. As he died in his thirties: how much meat and wine did he consumed on a daily basis?
Charlemagne was another fellow sufferer.
In the medieval period, everyone knew podraga was the result of an imbalance in the humours. If the 4 humours governing health (blood, yellow bile, black bile and phlegm) weren’t balanced, a drop of the excess humour could slither down your veins and settle in your joint, hence the inflammation.
This theory was also the background to the term gout, as Latin for “drop” is “gutta”, and in the late 12th century a Dominican monk named Randolphus of Bocking working for the Bishop of Chichester is credited with shortening the cumbersome “gutta quam podagram vel artiticam vocant” (the drop that causes podraga or arthritis) into “gutta” which became gout.
By 1294 the physicians had discovered a substance that helped gout, namely colchicine, the toxin in autumn crocuses.
(How did they discover that? Did they first try to ingest it -- a bad idea as it is very poisonous. Or was it a case of a desperate physician rushing outside to escape the raging of his angry, hurting patient and stumbling across some autumn crocuses, and thinking “well, at least they’re pretty to look at”, before grabbing a bunch and pulverising them into a salve which -- amazingly -- helped?)
By medieval times, physicians were also convinced it helped to change your diet to minimise the discomfort caused by gout. That advice was not always well-received.
About Bladder and kidney stones
San Diego Sarah • Link
This article is about men's reluctance from the 16th to 21st century to discuss urological and sexual information with their doctors -- until pain is involved. Surprisingly the author doesn't use Pepys as an example, but does cite this incident which reminded me of Pepys:
https://www.historytoday.com/arch…
"Perhaps surprisingly, there were some conditions that men openly and freely discussed. In particular they seemingly discussed bladder stones and their associated symptoms without concern. Some men even showed off the stones they had managed to pass.
"Mathew Purmann noted that in the late 17th century ‘Baron Van Horst Lieutenant Colonel of the Hannover Troops’ had kept his bladder stones and ‘in the year [of] 1687 shewed me a great Box full of Angular, Oval and Round Stones which came from him in Six Weeks Time, the largest whereof was about the bigness of a great Pea’."
Keeping the evidence in a box was apparently fashionable.
About Thursday 7 February 1660/61
San Diego Sarah • Link
So Lady Sandwich wasn't lying in wait for the Admiral at Hampton Court. She just went for an outing the other day.
@@@
The Queen Mother, Minette, Sandwich, Buckingham, Abbe Walter Montagu, St. Albans and the luggage left London on January 2.
https://www.pepysdiary.com/diary/…
Sickness and storms kept the fleet at Portsmouth. On a good day it's roughly a 24 hour sail to La Havre (depending on the wind and tides). This trip took 5 weeks, and I am guessing there were many games of cards and many "interesting" moments when Sandwich played host to all these Royalists who, while being grateful for his support of the Restoration, still must have regarded him as a questionable Johnnie-come-lately to the party.
This discourtesy by Buckingham sounds like a "last straw" challenge from an extremely frustrated host to his most outrageous guest, with whom he had been entombed on a tiny ship for far too long.
Imagine a duel -- which was illegal in France and Charles II had banned in England, but had a hard time punishing when conducted by his friends -- when the Admiral of the Fleet was wounded or killed by Charles II's BFF. Or vice versa. It would have been a diplomatic disaster on both sides of the Channel.
About Wednesday 6 February 1660/61
San Diego Sarah • Link
HAHAHAHA you're probably right, GrahamT. That answer was also too easy for me.
About Southwark
San Diego Sarah • Link
CONCLUSION:
9. Mermaid Court
At the time of writing, the entrance to Mermaid Court sports wraparound vinyl-art that couldn’t be more out of keeping with the alley’s antiquity. But its words are inspired by the area’s history:
"Stories play,
They dance,
They sway,
On the walls of memories,
Dreams of present stay."
The artwork by Farouk Agoro speaks of historical and folk memories, and is inspired by local ‘ghost signs’, fading old adverts on brick walls visible after the demise of the businesses they promote. It’s the most notable aspect of Mermaid Court, which is a featureless cut-through to the housing behind.
I find little about the Mermaid Inn. It’s mentioned along with the King’s Arms in 1565, so was ancient. It once stood against the side of the Marshalsea Prison, before that moved a few alleyways south.
10. Chapel Court
Chapel Court is one of the few alleys that leads nowhere, unless you have business with the Diocese of Southwark headquarters.
You may be lured in by the sight of a half-timbered building. But I’m pretty sure that uPVC double-glazed windows were not the norm. The door also looks suspiciously 1980s. Little can be found online about this Frankenstein building. It seems to be a modern pastiche (using old timbers). Newspapers from 1986 advertise a “Pilgrims Medieval Banquet” on Chapel Court — a gastronomic tourist magnet. These may be its remains.
Sadly, the alley’s chief attraction, the Blue Eyed Maid pub, closed a few years ago and is now in a sorry state. This was another ancient pub, and Chapel Court was once known as Blue Maid Alley.
11. Angel Place
We pass a further short, unnamed alley, dominated by the Royal British Legion, and head into our final passage beside the John Harvard Library (spend a few minutes reading a book here, and you can claim you studied at Harvard!).
Angel Place is perhaps the most interesting of all Borough’s alleys, as it's here we find the remains of the Marshalsea Prison. This notorious jail originally stood on Mermaid Court, but moved south a few metres in the early 19th century. It was mostly for debtors who, despite their bankruptcy, still had to pay fees for their lodgings. The Marshalsea closed in 1842 and was mostly demolished.
However, Angel Place contains substantial remnants of its southern wall. You can even pass through the Marshalsea wall via an arch, into a pocket park beside St. George the Martyr church.
Excerpted from The Curious Alleys Of Borough High Street
The strange history lurking off London's oldest road -- by MATT BROWN
FEB 7, 2024
https://londonist.substack.com/p/…
About Southwark
San Diego Sarah • Link
PART 3
5. Queen’s Head Yard
A pub of this name was first recorded on this site in 1587, and was previously known as the Crossed Keys.
The name change may have occurred during the Reformation, when symbols of Papacy (such as St. Peter’s keys) were hastily removed from pub signs in favour of something safer (not that Queens' heads were any safer in Henry VIII’s time).
The Queen’s Head was briefly owned by John Harvard, before he took off to the New World to find posthumous fame in his namesake university.
Nothing down the surviving runt of an alleyway reminds us of its presence.
6. Kentish Buildings
Finally, we reach a trio of alleys whose name does not have a direct pub connection. But it used to. This was once Christopher’s Alley, named after the 16th century Christopher Inn -- a descendant of which can still be found beside one entrance.
The alley seems to have changed names to Kentish Buildings at the end of the 18th century, in tribute to the hop trade (a hallmark of Kent) which flourished in this part of Borough.
Kentish Buildings today is not much to look at, but it is the only alley on Borough High Street where you can still find a room at an inn. The Christopher runs a hostel in the surrounding buildings, while the southern prong of Kentish Buildings houses a new-build Premier Inn.
7. Nag’s Head Yard
This one’s so obscure it doesn’t even merit a label on OpenStreetMap, which usually treats thoroughness as an extreme sport. This is yet another alley named after a pub. Known as the Horse’s Head in ancient times, it became the Nag sometime in the 17th century.
The alley today does not look promising. It’s clearly a service and parking yard for the Premier Inn.
But look again. It has retained its cart-worn flagstones flanked by stone setts, probably from the Victorian era. Meanwhile, a tall brick wall to the back of the yard is of similar vintage. It may well have stood at the same time as the forgotten pub. Sadly, the yard is gated off in the middle.
8. Newcomen Street (formerly Axe and Bottle Yard)
Newcomen Street is a real street these days, not an alley, but you should still go down it if only to see the King’s Arms pub.
The royal coat of arms above the door is a remnant of Old London Bridge. It once adorned the old Stonegate — an arched entrance to the bridge. This was demolished in 1760, but the coat of arms was rescued and placed on the pub.
Like the Old King’s Head, the pub has a lovely ‘old school’ vibe to it. According to the Inns of Old Southwark, a man called Richard Griffin died here in 1736 at the grand age of 116. His funeral featured 116 ancient pall-bearers.
Until the 19th century this was Axe and Bottle Yard, named after a local tavern. The yard has been widened and knocked through to Snowfields, but it still retains a slight kink of old.
About Southwark
San Diego Sarah • Link
PART 2
The King’s Head is still there — a Victorian rebuild — and it’s one of those charming, unreconstructed pubs that still has a carpet and a free-to-hire function room. Beyond, the alley curves gently and leads through to King’s College or, with a swift volte-face, curves round into our next alley…
2. White Hart Yard
The White Hart coaching inn vanished long ago, but it has left a mighty impression on popular culture. It was in the White Hart in 1450 that Jack Cade set up headquarters, before leading his rebellion into London proper. The incident is immortalised in Shakespeare’s Henry IV, Part 2.
The inn also made an appearance in Dickens. It was at the White Swan that Mr. Pickwick first met Sam Weller.
The original pub was probably built in the reign of Richard II, whose symbol was a white hart. It was a mighty collection of buildings, comparable to a small village with rooms for 100 people.
Like so much on Borough High Street, it burned down in 1676, but was soon rebuilt. The replacement lasted until 1889.
The alley still retains a drinking den in the shape of the Coach House. This modern bar is affiliated with the George, which stands in its own neighbouring yard. Today there’s a cut-through from White Hart Yard, a communication that never existed in ye olden days.
3. The George Inn
This next yard carries no nameplate, but it’s easily the most-visited of Borough High Street’s offshoots, for it contains the world-famous George Inn.
This Grade I-listed building has stood since the 17th century, but its previous incarnations date back to medieval times. Shakespeare almost certainly drank here.
The pub was named after St. George and was, for a time, known as the George and Dragon.
As you’ll have appreciated by now, Borough once contained many pubs of this ilk, with large courtyards for horse-drawn vehicles and galleried accommodation. George is the last man standing. There is much more to say about this fine pub, and I refer you to Pete Brown’s biography of the place, called 'Shakespeare’s Local].
4. Talbot Yard
In The Canterbury Tales, Chaucer's motley band set off from the Tabard Inn, which was the real hostelry that once stood in Talbot Yard. The original Tabard burned down in the fire of 1676. It was rebuilt as the Talbot, hence the current alley’s name.
Talbot Yard carries on to the east, offering a semi-obstructed view of the back of the George, before threading through the service roads of King’s College to join up with White Hart Yard and King’s Head Yard.
About Southwark
San Diego Sarah • Link
This group has heard of the George Inn, Southwark. But what’s down the many other historic alleys off Borough High Street?
Borough High Street in Southwark is ancient. Two of the most important Roman roads — later called Stane Street and Watling Street and, later still, Kennington Park Road (A3) and the Old Kent Road (A2) — converged near modern-day Borough tube station, whence commingled they pushed north to London Bridge. This bit, the approach to the bridge, is now called Borough High Street. It is pickled in 2,000 years of history. It might be London’s oldest road.
Borough High Street was noted for its coaching inns. They served as starting points for horse-drawn journeys to the south. They also accommodated people arriving in London too late to cross the bridge, which was typically closed after sundown.
A dozen such inns sprung up along the road during medieval times. Sadly, most were destroyed in a Great Fire — one specific to the Borough in 1676.
[The Great Fire of Southwark began on 26 May 1676 in a building where a man sold oil and paint. The fire spread quickly and it was only brought under control by blowing up houses to create fire breaks. However, the burned parts of Southwark were soon rebuilt. The death toll is not known but it is believed that more people died in the Great Fire of Southwark than in the Great Fire of London. -- https://localhistories.org/a-hist… ]
The inns were rebuilt, and most lasted into the Victorian era. By the 1880s, their trade had been erased by a force more powerful than fire — the railways. The hundreds of rooms offered by the inns could no longer find occupants. Most were torn down.
Only the George Inn remains in something like its original form. The rest are remembered in the names of the alleys which branch off from the eastern side of Borough High Street.
John Rocque’s map of 1746 shows the 11 alleys we’re about to explore. Some have changed names.
These explorations are aided by a remarkable book, The Inns of Old Southwark (1888) which was written in the final days of the old coaching inns. It contains many gorgeous and rare illustrations of these lost taverns, some of which are reproduced on the link below.
These notes are written so you can virtually venture out from your armchair. Let’s start at the northern end of the street:
1. King’s Head Yard
The King’s Head was put up after the Great Fire of Southwark and lasted more than 200 years.
The face of Henry VIII hangs over the entrance to King’s Head Yard. Don’t let the old brute put you off. This is one of the most atmospheric — and yes, often the most uric — alleyways on the high street. Still, it’s not as welcoming to the eye as in former days. As the illustration shows, the namesake King’s Head inn once filled the courtyard, with galleried buildings on either side. It was pulled down in 1885.
About Le Havre, France
San Diego Sarah • Link
CONCLUSION:
The upper town to the north, is part of the cauchois plateau: the neighbourhood of Dollemard is its highest point (between 90 and 115 metres (295 and 377 ft) above sea level).
The plateau is covered with a layer of flinty clay and a fertile silt. The bedrock consists of chalk measuring up to 200 m (656 ft) deep. Because of the slope the coast is prone to landslides.
Due to Le Havre's location, the climate is temperate oceanic. Days without wind are rare.
Le Havre's beach may rarely experience flooding. These are caused by a combination of strong winds, high waves, and a large tidal range.
Crossing times to Portsmouth vary ... Popular alternative routes going to areas close to Le Havre include Newhaven to Dieppe, and Poole to Cherbourg.
The name of the town was attested in 1489, even before it was founded by François I in the form le Hable de Grace then Ville de Grace in 1516, 2 years before its official founding.
The name Franciscopolis is found in some documents, also that of Havre Marat (referring to Jean-Paul Marat during the French Revolution but was not imposed). After the French Revolution the '-de-Grace' was not restored which undoubtedly referred to the Chapel of Notre Dame located at the site of the cathedral of the same name. The chapel faced the Chapel Notre Dame de Grace of Honfleur across the estuary.
The oldest building still standing in Le Havre is Graville Abbey, a monastery dedicated to Sainte Honorine, set in grounds on the northern bank of the Seine River. The other medieval building in the city is the Chapel of St.-Michel of Ingouville.
Because of the bombing in 1944, buildings from the Early Modern era arerare: Le Havre Cathedral: the first stone of the building was laid in 1536, and the Church of St. Francis are concentrated in the Notre-Dame and St.-François areas.
The Norman language is still used by the people of Le Havre, part of which is identified as speaking cauchois. Among the Norman words used are: boujou (hello, goodbye), clenche (door handle), morveux (veuse) (child), and bezot (te) (last born).
Le Havre was the birthplace of:
Georges de Scudéry (1601–1667), novelist, dramatist and poet.
Madeleine de Scudéry (1607–1701), writer. ...
EXCERPTED FROM https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Le_…
About Le Havre, France
San Diego Sarah • Link
Le Havre: Norman: Lé Hâvre [lɛ ɑvʁ(é)]) is a major port city in the Seine-Maritime department in the Normandy region of northern France.
It is situated on the right bank of the estuary of the river Seine on the Channel southwest of the Pays de Caux, close to the Prime Meridian.
The name Le Havre means "the harbour" or "the port". Its inhabitants are known as Havrais or Havraises.
The city and port were founded by King Francis I in 1517. Economic development in the Early Modern period was hampered by religious wars, conflicts with the English, epidemics, and storms. It was from the end of the 18th century that Le Havre started growing and the port took off first with the slave trade then other international trade. ,,,
TODAY: Le Havre is located 50 kilometres (31 miles) west of Rouen on the shore of the English Channel and at the mouth of the Seine. Numerous roads link to Le Havre with the main access roads being the A29 autoroute from Amiens and the A13 autoroute from Paris linking to the A131 autoroute.
TODAY: Administratively, Le Havre is a commune in the Normandy region in the west of the department of Seine-Maritime. The urban area corresponds roughly to the territory of the Agglomeration community of Le Havre (CODAH) which includes 17 communes ... .
Le Havre occupies the south-western tip of the natural region of Pays de Caux where it is the largest city. It is sandwiched between the coast of the Channel from south-west to north-west and the estuary of the Seine to the south.
When founded in 1517, Le Havre was named Franciscopolis after Francis I. It was subsequently named Le Havre-de-Grâce ("Harbor of Grace"). Its construction was ordered to replace the ancient harbours of Honfleur and Harfleur whose utility had decreased due to silting.
Le Havre is inextricably linked to its harbour. In the 18th century, as trade from the West Indies was added to that of France and Europe, Le Havre began to grow.
The commune of Le Havre consists of 2 areas separated by a natural cliff: one part in the lower part of the town to the south including the harbour, the city centre and the suburbs. It was built on former marshland and mudflats that were drained in the 16th century. The soil consists of several metres of silt deposited by the Seine.
About Wednesday 6 February 1660/61
San Diego Sarah • Link
HayW -- you are right! That obvious answer never occurred to me, but I found this article which confirms your point:
'Lice are a common winter problem in cattle, especially in cold climates. Heavy infestations can rob valuable nutrition when cattle need it most, decreasing gain and leaving cattle more susceptible to disease.' (In calves, moderate-to-heavy lice infestation has led to a 0.21 lbs/day reduced weight gain, according to a University of Nebraska-Lincoln study.)
https://www.beefmagazine.com/catt…
Not being a farm girl, that is outside my experience. What we learn from Pepys' Diary!
Yes, the article is about American cattle, but the fact that lice are a winter problem means the information can be applied to Britain.
The article continues further down 'Lice are spread by direct contact; calves pick up lice from their mothers or herdmates. Lice can infest cattle all year round, but their numbers are typically low in summer because most lice shed off in spring with winter hair, says Jack Campbell, a University of Nebraska professor emeritus and veterinary entomologist.
'Maintaining cattle on a high plane of nutrition is the first step in lice control. “You need to ensure they’re healthy going into winter and well fed,” Williams says. Healthy cattle in good body condition have more resistance to lice and rarely carry heavy loads, he adds.'
Treatment today is with insecticides -- who knows what Rev. Ralph used.
The Royalists are definitely to blame!