Castles, Customs, and Kings: True Tales by English Historical Fiction Authors

by English Historical Fiction Authors

  Soane, his wife, and their two sons lived in the house/museum much as it appears today: Greek and Roman marbles lining the stairwells, a full sized Egyptian sarcophagus in the basement, a room of Hogarths mounted on hinged walls. In the basement, Soane created an atmosphere reminiscent of catacombs or Roman burial chambers, of which the centrepiece was the magnificent Egyptian sarcophagus of King Seti I, bought by Soane when the British Museum refused to pay 2,000 pounds for it. With hieroglyphics yet to be deciphered in his time, Soane celebrated the arrival of this important antiquity with three evening parties, illuminated by three hundred oil lamps and attended by nearly a thousand people.

  Mrs. Soane must have had the patience of a saint to put up with the stamp of her husband’s overwhelming personality, but by all accounts they were a happy couple. A mark of Soane’s eccentricity was his “Monk’s Parlour.” This was a downstairs room designed in a gothic fashion, with dark, sombre colours and heavy furniture to illustrate the importance of light (or lack of it) in creating atmosphere.

  What is even more delightful is that when Soane wanted to be alone he would claim: “Padre Giovanni has come to visit,” and disappear into the Monk’s Parlour to take tea. However, since Padre Giovanni was fictitious—actually a play on Soane’s own name “John”—his visits were an excuse to enjoy solitude.

  The moral of this story is that sometimes the plaudits of history can blind us to the personalities who create it. No dry as dust exhibition of worthy achievements can ever set the imagination alight to the wonders of the past quite so much as a glimpse into the mind of the people who inspired them.

  Child’s Play...or Is It?: Georgian Era Nursery Rhymes

  by Lucinda Brant

  Nursery rhymes are the first poems and songs children learn, generally before they go to school. They help broaden vocabulary, teach counting, and sharpen memory. They are nonsense and hold no more meaning than what is intended within the rhyme. Nonsense? That’s all well and good for children to believe, but we adults know better, don’t we? Or do you?

  Of course, they are not meaningless, nor are they nonsense (not if you are the intended target). In this post I’ll focus on several nursery rhymes from the Georgian era.

  Humpty Dumpty

  Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,

  Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

  All the King’s horses,

  And all the King’s men

  Couldn’t put Humpty together again!

  There are several theories as to the origin of Humpty Dumpty and from my research the most popular is that Humpty Dumpty was a large cannon used during the Civil War to defend the town of Colchester. A walled town with a castle and several churches, it was a Royalist stronghold. The Parliamentarians (Roundheads) aimed at the wall on which Humpty Dumpty sat and caused the Royalist cannon to fall, and eventually the Royalists were beaten. The Siege of Colchester lasted for eleven weeks from 13 June to 27 August 1648.

  However, the rhyme wasn’t published until 1810 in Gammer Gurton’s Garland, where there is no mention of the King’s men or his horses:

  Humpty Dumpty sate [sic] on a wall,

  Humpti Dumpti [sic] had a great fall;

  Threescore men and threescore more,

  Cannot place Humpty dumpty as he was before.

  This first published version leads to the more obscure theory (I can’t find a reference anywhere, and I would like to claim it as my own, but, alas, I think one of my history teachers told me) that Humpty Dumpty is not a cannon at all but a specific person. I believe it refers to King George III and that the rhyme is about his mental illness.

  Humpty Dumpty sits on a wall—this makes him higher than anyone else, alluding to his royal status. There was no one higher in England’s Georgian society than the King. He has a great fall—George III had several bouts of mental illness. Threescore men and threescore more —that’s 120 men!—come. This suggests that it made no difference to the King’s condition how many men were called to attend on him. They “cannot place Humpty dumpty as he was before”—the King’s mental illness cannot be cured and thus he can no longer rule as king.

  Life will never be the same again for King George or his subjects. As a consequence of the King’s mental illness, the Prince of Wales became Prince Regent. The date of the rhyme’s first publication, 1810, is significant because this was the year the Regency was discussed in Parliament, and the Prince of Wales became Prince Regent by law in early 1811.

  George III was not the only one in his family to be represented in a nursery rhyme. His second son, Prince Frederick, the Duke of York and Albany, was also the subject of a rhyme that satirized his abilities as a military field commander.

  The Grand Old Duke of York

  The Grand old Duke of York

  He had ten thousand men

  He marched them up to the top of the hill

  And he marched them down again.

  When they were up, they were up

  And when they were down, they were down

  And when they were only halfway up

  They were neither up nor down.

  Of course, there are those who contend that it is not Frederick the nursery rhyme is about but another old Duke of York, Richard, claimant to the English throne and Protector of England during the Wars of the Roses, and the march referred to is the Battle of Wakefield on 30 December 1460. Richard marched his army to his castle at Sandal, built on top of the site of an old Norman motte and bailey fortress. Its massive earthworks stood 33 feet (10m) above the original ground level, and so “he marched them [his soldiers] up to the top of the hill.”

  Then, in what many scholars believe to be a moment of madness, he left his stronghold in the castle and went down to make a direct attack on the Lancastrians and so “he marched them [his soldiers] down again.” Richard’s army was overwhelmed and he was killed.

  The theory I prefer involves Prince Frederick, Duke of York and Albany, the second and favorite son of George III and Commander-in-Chief of the British Military throughout the Napoleonic Wars. The grand old Duke of York is said to refer to his fighting in Flanders in 1793. The Duke won a cavalry conquest at Beaumont in the April of 1794 and then was roundly defeated at Turcoing in May and recalled to England.

  The “hill” in the rhyme is the township of Cassel, built on a mount that rises 176 meters (about 570 feet) over the otherwise level lands of Flanders in northern France. Though he was a bad field commander, Frederick was a competent military organizer who raised the professional level of the army, playing a significant behind-the-scenes role in the Duke of Wellington’s victories in the Peninsular War. The grand old Duke of York also founded Sandhurst College.

  Georgie Porgie

  Georgie Porgie pudding and pie,

  Kissed the girls and made them cry

  When the boys came out to play,

  Georgie Porgie ran away.

  There are two contenders for the title of Georgie Porgie. The first is George Villiers (1592-1628), Duke of Buckingham, the bisexual lover of James I. George was a very good-looking gentleman with highly suspect morals. He did not confine his sexual favors to the king but had affairs with many of the ladies at court, as well as the wives and daughters of powerful nobles.

  It is also believed he used his privileged position with the King to force his attentions on unwilling ladies. He “kissed the girls and made them cry” and managed to avoid prosecution or retaliation—”when the boys came out to play, Georgie Porgie ran away”.

  Villiers’ notorious affair with Anne of Austria, Queen of France, injured both their reputations and was written into Alexander Dumas’ novel The Three Musketeers. Villiers’ liaisons and political scheming were questioned in the English Parliament who finally put a stop to James I intervening on his young lover’s behalf.

  The second
contender for the title of Georgie Porgie, and the one I prefer, is none other than the last of the Hanoverian Georges—“I’m the Fat One” (to quote Horrible Histories)—the Prince Regent, and subsequently George IV (1820-1830).

  In later life, George was not just fat, he was grossly obese. He gave huge banquets and drank to excess. Although he was described as the “First Gentleman of England” and is credited with championing the Regency style of clothing and manners and was considered clever and knowledgeable, Georgie Porgie highlights his worst traits. His laziness and gluttony led him to squander his abilities.

  He spent whole days in bed and his extreme weight made him the target of ridicule, hence the reference to “pudding and pie”. By 1797 he weighed in at 245 pounds (111kg) and by 1824 the waist of his corset was 50 inches (127cm).

  George had a notorious roving eye. His checkered love life included several mistresses, illegitimate children, and bigamy. Beautiful women invited to dine with the King were warned not to find themselves alone, for George was not above taking liberties with his female guests. He “kissed the girls and made them cry”. He was also considered a coward by those who knew him well; thus, “When the boys came out to play, Georgie Porgie ran away.” A senior aide to the king recorded in his diary that, “A more contemptible, cowardly, selfish, unfeeling dog does not exist.... There have been good and wise kings but not many of them...and this I believe to be one of the worst.” The Times once wrote, George preferred “a girl and a bottle to politics and a sermon.”

  Jack and Jill

  Jack and Jill went up the hill

  To fetch a pail of water;

  Jack fell down and broke his crown,

  And Jill came tumbling after.

  Kilmersdon, a village in Somerset, has claimed this rhyme as its own, and there is a set of stone tablets along a path up to a well at the top of the notorious hill. The village claims that during 1697, a young unmarried couple courted up on a hill, away from the prying eyes of the village. Fetching a pail of water was a ruse. Jill became pregnant and just before she gave birth, Jack “fell down and broke his crown”; he was killed by a hit to the head from a rock. Days later “Jill came tumbling after”, dying in childbirth.

  This could well be true, and could only help boost tourist numbers to Kilmersdon. However, the rhyme was not published until the 1700s. While 1760 is touted as the year of publication, there are those who contend the actual date was closer to 1795. The latter date would tie in nicely with the theory that the protagonists Jack and Jill are in fact the ill-fated French royal couple Louis XVI and his Queen Marie Antoinette who were both guillotined in 1793.

  “Up the hill” is said to represent Louis XVI’s ascension to the French throne in 1774. Jack falling down is reference to the French Revolution and Louis being arrested and charged with treason. He “broke his crown” when he was guillotined in January 1793, and Marie Antoinette (Jill) soon followed when she “came tumbling after” and was guillotined in October of the same year.

  There Was an Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe

  There was an old woman who lived in a shoe

  She had so many children, she didn’t know what to do;

  She gave them some broth without any bread;

  Then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.

  The old woman is said to refer to the English Parliament and the shoe itself is England. It is said that if you look at a map of Great Britain and turn it 90 degrees clockwise it resembles a shoe. By the mid 1700s England is considered an “old woman” by its colonies, particularly the American colonies, set in her ways and intractable. Her many children are said to represent the English colonies, young, growing, and inquisitive.

  “Some broth without any bread” and then a whipping before bed, refers to the piecemeal and violent way the English Parliament dealt with colonials and their problems—in the same way a harsh parent treats a child considered wayward and naughty. The dismissal and subsequent harsh treatment of the very real problems faced by the American colonists eventually led to the American Revolutionary War.

  Jack be Nimble

  Jack be nimble,

  Jack be quick,

  Jack jump over

  The candlestick.

  There is consensus amongst historians as to the identity of Jack being the notorious pirate Black Jack Smatt who lived at Port Royal, Jamaica during the latter half of the 17th century. Port Royal was known as “The Wickedest City on Earth”, until razed by an earthquake in 1692, at which time Jack and his fellow pirates were heard of no more. Yet, his legend lived on well into the eighteenth century and the printing of the first Mother Goose nursery rhymes.

  Jack Smatt was nimble and quick—he evaded capture by the British authorities, and he was never tried for piracy because he had the knack of getting himself out of a “hot spot” (represented by Jack jumping over a candlestick). Black Jack Smatt lives on in the 21st century consciousness as the eighteenth century pirate Captain Jack Sparrow of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, fabulously portrayed by the wonderfully talented Johnny Depp.

  Who Killed Cock Robin?

  “Who killed Cock Robin?”

  “I,” said the Sparrow, “With my bow and arrow, I killed Cock Robin.”

  “Who saw him die?”

  “I,” said the Fly, “With my little eye, I saw him die.”

  “Who caught his blood?”

  “I,” said the Fish, “With my little dish, I caught his blood.”

  “Who’ll make the shroud?”

  “I,” said the Beetle, “With my thread and needle, I’ll make the shroud.”

  “Who’ll dig his grave?”

  “I,” said the Owl, “With my little trowel, I’ll dig his grave.”

  “Who’ll be the parson?”

  “I,” said the Rook, “With my little book, I’ll be the parson.”

  “Who’ll be the clerk?”

  “I,” said the Lark, “If it’s not in the dark, I’ll be the clerk.”

  “Who’ll carry the link?”

  “I,” said the Linnet, “I’ll fetch it in a minute, I’ll carry the link.”

  “Who’ll be chief mourner?”

  “I,” said the Dove, “I mourn for my love, I’ll be chief mourner.”

  “Who’ll carry the coffin?”

  “I,” said the Kite, “If it’s not through the night, I’ll carry the coffin.”

  “Who’ll bear the pall?

  “We,” said the Wren, “Both the cock and the hen, we’ll bear the pall.”

  “Who’ll sing a psalm?”

  “I,” said the Thrush, As she sat on a bush, “I’ll sing a psalm.”

  “Who’ll toll the bell?”

  “I,” said the bull, “Because I can pull, I’ll toll the bell.”

  All the birds of the air fell a-sighing and a-sobbing,

  When they heard the bell toll for poor Cock Robin.

  Finally, there is my all-time favorite nursery rhyme, Who Killed Cock Robin? There is no mystery here, no rhyming for the sake of it as with other children’s rhymes we would recite without really knowing what they were about. The sparrow confesses at once, and those animals gathered around poor dead Robin offer in one way or another to help with his burial. There are versions of Who Killed Cock Robin? in German and Norwegian, and some scholars suggest that the poem is a parody on the death of William Rufus, who was killed by an arrow in the New Forest (Hampshire) in 1100.

  The earliest written record for this rhyme is in Tommy Thumb’s Pretty Songbook, which was published c.1744, with only the first four verses being printed. Speculation is that “Cock Robin” refers to the political downfall of Sir Robert Walpole, Robin being a diminutive of Robert. Walpole was First Lord of the Treasury and England’s first Prime Minister, and his govern
ment was toppled in 1742. Walpole had many enemies and Who Killed Cock Robin? was a taunt at his downfall.

  The extended edition wasn’t printed until 1770, and it’s this extension of the poem which has led to speculation that Who Killed Cock Robin? in its entirety was written to inform the eighteenth century child as to what occurs after someone dies, so that they are familiar with the burial process. After all, at this time, most burials occurred at night when most people, particularly children, were in their beds so that there was no fear of the spread of disease as the body was transported to the graveyard.

  The relationship between nursery rhymes and actual historical events or persons is considered by many to be apocryphal but whether you believe there is a political connection or not, it is always fun to speculate!

  Sources

  Alchin, L.K. “Nursery Rhymes: Lyrics, Origins, and History.” ChildhoodHeritage.org. http://www.childhoodheritage.org/.

  Baker, K. “George IV: a Sketch.” History Today, 2005 55(10): 30–36.

  Clarke, John. “George IV,” in The Lives of the Kings and Queens of England, edited by Antonia Fraser, 225. Alfred A. Knopf, 1975.

  Collcutt, Deborah. “Why does the Weasel go Pop?—The Secret Meaning of Our Best-Loved Nursery Rhymes.” MailOnline, 16 August 2008. http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1045841/Why-does-weasel-pop---secret-meaning-best-loved-nursery-rhymes.html.

  Harrowven, Jean. The Origins of Rhymes, Songs and Sayings. Kaye & Ward, 1977.

  “Jack Be Nimble.” Nursery Rhymes from Mother Goose. http://nurseryrhymesmg.com/rhymes/jack_be_nimble.htm.

  McSmith, Andy. “Grand Old Duke: The Greatest Scandal Never Told.” The Independent, 1 January 2009. http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/grand-old-duke-the-greatest-scandal-never-told-1220042.html.