It is that time of year once more! We at Number One London are inordinately fond of Christmas. We kick off the month of December with a Christmas favorite!

CHRISTMAS EDITION

I write Regency historical romance because I fell in love with the era at the age of nine, and my love has only grown stronger since. I love the manners, the rules of proper conduct, the elegant clothes (especially men in breeches and boots,) travel in carriages and on horseback, the stately homes, and every aspect of life in this unique period.

Be that as it may, I have come to realize there are some aspects of Regency life, even in the most elite portions of society, that would not be amiss in the red plastic cup, mud-bogging, tobacco spitting locale in which I live today. Directions to my house do include the words “Turn off the paved road.”

Lest you think I use the term “redneck” as a pejorative, I spent a large portion of my childhood living in mobile homes in the South. My mother’s family were Native American sharecroppers. My father’s family were Pennsylvania coal miners. I know who and what I am. Jeff Foxworthy, the leading expert on the redneck lifestyle, defines it as “a glorious lack of sophistication.” For the purposes of this essay, and in my semi-expert opinion, that is the definition we will use.

There are examples of redneck behavior to be found in every race, religion, socio-economic group, and country in the world. I now realize the same is true of every historical era. Rednecks have been with us forever. Even during that most gracious and elegant of times—The Regency.

Prove it, you say? I give you a series of Regency Christmas traditions any self-respecting redneck would be happy to call his or her own.

Snapdragon

Under the heading of a Regency version of “Hey y’all, watch this!” comes the Christmas game of Snapdragon. Raisins and nuts were soaked in brandy in a large shallow bowl. The lights were put out, and the brandy lit. People had to try and grasp a raisin or nut and eat it without burning themselves. The winner was the person who managed to capture and eat the most. I think you’d have to soak me in brandy to get me to try it!

Bullet Pudding

Another Regency era Christmas game with a redneck flair is bullet pudding. One must have a large pewter dish piled high with flour pushed to a peak at the top. A single bullet is placed at the crest of the “pudding.” Players take turns cutting a slice of the “pudding” with a knife. The person who is slicing the “pudding” when the bullet falls must then put their hands behind their back and poke about in the pile of flour with their nose and chin to find the bullet. Once they find it, they must retrieve it with their mouth. All the while trying desperately not to join their companions in laughter as this will result in flour being inhaled into the mouth and nose. Regardless, the bullet retriever ends up with flour all over his face. Any game played with live ammunition and the promise of someone ending up covered in a mess would be as welcome at a Redneck Christmas as it was at Regency Christmases.

Wassailing!

There were no Christmas carolers in Regency England. However, wassail groups would go from house to house singing begging songs in the hope of receiving food, drink, and money. Wassail was a mixture of beer, wine, and brandy and was usually served to the singers at each house. Every house. A great many houses before the night was done. I think I’ve seen groups like this around my neighborhood at Christmas-time.

Very few houses had our idea of Christmas trees during the Regency. Such decorated Christmas trees were made popular in England by Queen Victoria and Prince Albert in the middle of the 19th century. However, trees were not left out of the Regency holidays. On Epiphany Eve, men would gather round a fruit tree, usually in an orchard, with cider and guns. In an ancient ceremony, they would drink to the tree and fire the guns to drive away evil spirits and promote the vigor of the trees. Horn-blowing was an alternative to firing guns. (Sounds like a Regency tail-gating party to me!)

The Yule Log

Speaking of trees, what could be more fun than a large group of men sent out into the woods to find the largest log possible to burn in the Christmas fireplace? The yule log had to be large enough to burn through the entire twelve days of Christmas. In fact, it had to be large enough to burn through to Twelfth Night and leave enough to be used to light next year’s log. Between the mine is bigger than your’s aspects of the hunt for the yule log and the opportunity to show off one’s strength in helping to drag the log home, this Regency Christmas tradition is rife with redneck possibilities.

Mistletoe and Kisses

Round out your Regency Christmas outdoor adventures with shooting mistletoe out of the trees (a method used by many Regency bucks) and hanging it about the house in every doorway and dark corner, a Regency version of spin-the-bottle if ever I’ve heard one.

A FLAMING DESSERT

Oh, and don’t forget a Christmas dessert for which many families put the ingredients on layaway. K-Mart did not invent the concept. The original Christmas clubs were for families who could not afford to pay for the ingredients for their Christmas pudding all at once. Wives in less affluent households deposited their pennies with their local shopkeepers in order to have the money to purchase those luxury food items necessary for a proper Christmas pudding. And after all of that, said dessert was brought to the table amidst great pomp and ceremony and… set on fire. Anyone who doesn’t believe your average redneck would shout “Hell, yeah!” at the idea of a flaming Christmas dessert has never been to a Christmas barbecue in the South.

At the end of Christmas Day, men and women of every age, no matter how strict the rules of society, tend to celebrate this joyous holiday with a bit more exuberance than decorum prescribes. Even Regency ladies and gentlemen, at least during Christmastide, might show “a glorious lack of sophistication.” So should we all!

From The Book of Christmas: Descriptive Customs, Ceremonies, Traditions by Thomas Kibble Hervey (1845)

Everywhere, throughout the British Isles, Christmas-eve is marked by an increased activity about the good things of this life. “Now,” says Stevenson, an old writer, “capons and hens, besides turkeys, geese, ducks, with beef and mutton, must all die; for in twelve days, a multitude of people will not be fed a little . . .” The abundant displays of every kind of edible, in the London markets, on Christmas-eve, with a view to the twelve days’ festival, the blaze of lights amid which they are exhibited, and the evergreen decorations by which they are empowered —together with the crowds of idlers or of purchasers that wander through these well-stored magazines—present a picture of abundance, and a congress of faces, well worthy of a single visit from the stranger, to whom a London market, on the eve of Christmas, is, as yet, a novelty.

The approach of Christmas-eve, in the metropolis, is marked by the Smithfield show of over-fed cattle; by the enormous beasts and birds, for the fattening of which medals and cups and prizes have been awarded by committees of amateur graziers and feeders;—in honor of which monstrosities, dinners have been eaten, toasts drunk, and speeches made. These prodigious specimens of corpulency we behold, after being thus glorified, led like victims of antiquity, decked with ribands and other tokens of triumph— or perhaps, instead of led, we should, as the animals are scarcely able to waddle, have used the word goaded—to be immolated at the altar of gluttony, in celebration of Christmas! To admiring crowds, on the eve itself, are the results of oil-cake and turnip feeding displayed, in the various butchers’ shops of the metropolis and its vicinity; and the efficacy of walnut-cramming is illustrated in Leadenhall market,—where Norfolk turkeys and Dorking fowls appear, in numbers and magnitude unrivalled. The average weight given for each turkey, by the statement heretofore quoted by us, of the number and gravity of those birds sentup to London from Norfolk, during two days of a Christmas, some years ago—is nearly twelve pounds; but what is called a fine bird, in Leadenhall Market, weighs, when trussed, from eighteen to one or two-and-twenty pounds,—the average price of which may be stated at twenty shillings; and prize turkeys have been known to weigh more than a quarter of a hundred weight.

Brawn is another dish of this season; and is sold by the poulterers, fishmongers, and pastry-cooks. The supply for the consumption of London is chiefly derived from Canterbury, Oxfordshire, and Hampshire. “It is manufactured from the flesh of large boars, which are suffered to live in a half-wild state, and, when put up to fatten, are strapped and belted tight round the principal parts of the carcass, in order to make the flesh become dense and brawny. This article comes to market, in rolls about two feet long, and ten inches in diameter, packed in wicker baskets.”

 

Another feature of this evening, in the houses of the more wealthy, was the tall Christmas candles, with their wreaths of evergreens, which were lighted up, along with the Yule log, and placed on the upper table, or dais, of ancient days. Those of our readers who desire to light the Christmas candles, this year, may place them on the sideboard, or in any conspicuous situation.

Our account of Christmas would not be complete,—without giving some description of the forms which attended the introduction of the  boar’s head at the feasts of our ancestors. The boar’s head soused, then, was carried into the great hall, with much state; preceded by the Master of the Revels, and followed by choristers and minstrels, singing and playing compositions in its honor. Dugdale relates that at the Inner Temple, for the first course of the Christmas dinner, was ” served in, a fair and large bore’s head, upon a silver platter, with minstrelsye.” At St. John’s, Oxford, in 1607, before the bearer of the boar’s head,—who was selected for his height and lustiness, and wore a green silk scarf, with an empty sword-scabbard dangling at his side,—went a runner, dressed in a horseman’s coat, having a boar’s spear in his hand,—a huntsman in green, carrying the naked and bloody sword belonging to the head-bearer’s scabbard,—and “two pages in tafatye sarcenet,” each with a “mess of mustard.”

BUT NOT IF THEY WERE WELSH!

Accusations of witchcraft across Europe for several centuries resulted in the persecutions, imprisonments, torture and executions of hundreds to thousands of people, most of them women. There were an estimated 1000 executions in England, and between 3,000 and 4,000 killings in Scotland.  However, oddly enough, only five people were hanged for witchcraft in Wales. Why?

After all, Welsh court records dating from the 16th century, held at the National Library of Wales, show that suspicions and verbal accusations of witchcraft like those seen across the rest of Britain and Europe were common in Wales. They also happened under similar circumstances where accusations often followed an argument, or a request for charity which was denied.

The records indicate bitter arguments between neighbors and family members often precipitated these accusations. Horses were killed, cattle were bewitched, pigs perished, men and women were injured, there were miscarriages and even murders in these accusations. Their accusers were neighbors, relatives, and in many cases, people with financial and personal reasons to make such accusations. However, if a case came to court, juries usually found the accused not guilty. Again, we ask Why?

Actually, there were a couple of very good reasons.

First of all, Wales was considered a land of magic, enchantment, superstition, and connection to the supernatural long after the rest of Britain had become enlightened. People from the rest of England, both the wealthy and aristocratic and the poor and uneducated, often went to Wales looking for consultations with enchanters and soothsayers and healers.

Wise women, cunning folk and soothsayers, were highly regarded in Wales, using magic to perform important services for the community. They were often the only physicians available in entire counties. Their knowledge of herbal medicine and folk remedies was unsurpassed in Britain. They served as midwives, arbitrated arguments, advised on animal husbandry and crop plantings, and performed myriad other services through the simple witchcraft of centuries of knowledge passed down from mother to daughter.

Women in Wales even looked like witches. They tended to dress in long, heavy woolen skirts, aprons, blouses and large woolen shawls. Most village women brewed mead and ale. They let their community know that there was ale for sale by placing some form of signage outside their cottages. The most popular and well-remembered of these signs was a broomstick.

There is speculation among some researchers that the traditional tall, black hat of the Welsh woman served as inspiration for the wide-brimmed hat of the fairy tale witch.

Another good reason was the adherence of the Welsh to unreformed religion long after the Church of England was established and made the faith of Britain. The Welsh preferred to worship within the household in ways that mimicked Catholic practices.  They believed in prayer rather than doctrine. There is evidence that many people continued to seek the aid of charmers instead of the church. Elizabethan and Stuart politicians frequently spoke about the religious ignorance in Wales.

Priests were asked to create curses in the form of prayers. People consulted wise women to offer prayers that melded the Catholic faith with old Celtic practices. Many in Britain considered Wales a country steeped in darkness due to their adherence to so many of the old ways.

A charm attributed to Gwen ferch Ellis, the first woman to be hanged for witchcraft in Wales, included the words “Enw’r Tad, y Mab, a’r Ysbryd Duw glân a’r tair Mair” (translated as “the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit of God, and the three Marys”.) These charms were never really meant to cause harm, but only to ward off evil.

A third, and most fascinating reason was the power of language, the Welsh language, to be more specific. When witch hunts came to Wales in the form of witch hunters appointed by Parliament like Matthew Hopkins (c. 1620 – 12 August 1647)  they had a number of strikes against them. In addition to the attitudes of the people who were judges and made up juries when it came to witchcraft none of the witch hunters spoke or read Welsh.

Evidence in many of these cases consisted of people hearing supposed spells and being able to speak them back to the witch hunter to be written down. Any writings of the accused witch be they recipes or books of herbal medicine were seized, but they proved useless because none of the English or Scot witch hunters could read them. Needless to say any Welsh-speaking individuals asked to translate pleaded ignorance of what was written. No sense in taking chances when it came to crossing a Welsh woman, just in case!

IN MEMORY OF THE THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE, MOSTLY WOMEN, MURDERED FOR THE SUPPOSED CRIME OF WITCHCRAFT ALL OVER THE WORLD TO THIS DAY.

AND IN HONOR OF THESE FIVE MARTYRS TO WELSH TRADITION

BENDIGEDIG FYDDO

1594

Gwen ferch Ellis, of Bettws, Denbighshire

1622

Rhydderch ap Evan, a yeoman, Caernarvonshire,

Lowri ferch Evan, Caernarvonshire

Widow Agnes ferch Evan,  Caernarvonshire

1655

Margaret ferch Richard,  Anglesey

LOUISA CORNELL

Ghost stories abound from one end of England to the other. Whether born of local legend or eyewitness accounts, a country with so long and an often violent history should not be looked at askance when the subject of ghost stories and other supernatural occurrences come up.

However, there are some very specific tales of ghosts and beasties indigenous to England’s coast that served a very specific purpose. During the late 18th and early 19th centuries the business of nearly every inhabitant of every village along the coasts of Cornwall, Devon, Essex, and Kent was in some way connected to the smuggling trade. The most important part of the trade involved making certain the movement of goods brought over from the Continent by ship made it from said ships to shore and then to their final, lucrative destination without being seen, especially by any agents of the Crown patrolling the area in search of goods smuggled into the country without benefit of the Crown collecting the appropriate taxes.

Numerous tricks and methods of subterfuge were used to make certain the transport of smuggled goods was not detected. But perhaps no method was more creative than the spinning of ghost stories and legendary specters meant to frighten the locals from venturing out at night, when most of this transport took place, and putting a scare into the customs men and excise riders whose job it was to stop them. Remember in this era superstition and connection to the world on the other side of the veil was not only part of the average citizen’s psyche it was also still woven into the fabric of the nation’s spiritual life.

Here are a few of those tales. Judge for yourself!

At Hadleigh Castle a pair of ‘phantoms’, – the White Lady and Black Man – made dramatic appearances just before a shipment of illicit liquor arrived, and duly disappeared when all the liquor had been moved away.

There is no doubt that the famous 18th century legend of ‘the Ghostly Drummer of Hurstmonceaux Castle’ in Sussex started with some enterprising smugglers and a little phosphorus!

The Saltersgate Inn, previously known as the Wagon and Horses stood in an elevated position on the moors, on what is now the main road between Pickering and Whitby, with its name thought to originate from the salting of fish which is believed to have taken place here. The name of the inn could potentially have been derived from the Yorkshire word ‘Yate’ meaning road, therefore ‘Salters Road’. It is said that one night, a customs official, on finding out that illicit trading activities were taking place at the inn, was murdered by smugglers and his body buried beneath the fireplace. It was said that if the fire was ever to stop burning, then the ghost of the murdered officer would return to haunt the inn.

The Old Bell has been around for a very long time, originally starting life as a hospice and hostel that was run by monks during the Norman conquest nearly 1000 years ago. A ghost of a middle-aged man was said to sit beside the fireplace in the dining area. Beer barrels were said to be supernaturally re-arranged in the cellar of the Bell overnight when the tavern was closed, and in the grounds of the pub the ghost of a civil war Royalist Cavalier and his horse was reported. It’s hard to not miss the fact that in some cases the stories of ghosts were actually invented by smugglers themselves to keep people away from certain buildings. And The Old Bell was known to be an overnight stop for some of the brandy and rum coming over from France.

The ghostly tales of the Mermaid Inn are extensive and are hardly surprising considering the history of the building. The Elizabethan chamber, also known now as Room 16, reportedly hosts two figures dueling, without making a sound. They were both armed with rapiers and they were both well dressed in hose and doublets. Eventually one was dealt a fatal thrust and appeared to die, the winner of the duel takes a nervous glance around the room before dragging the body of his opponent to a nearby tarp door and disposing of it!

Another tale tells of the room now known as The Hawkhurst Room, namesake of the Hawkhurst Gang where a man dressed as a smuggler sits on the bed in the middle of the night.

Where doesn’t have a white or grey lady story in it’s history? The Mermaid has a few different shaded ladies in residence. A lady in white is said to haunt the inn (busy place) said to walk from the single room and across to the main room of the Nutcracker Suite then straight through the door while stopped for a moment at the foot of the bed. This lady in white has been said to be the spirit of a girl who made the mistake of falling in love with one of the many smugglers of the area during the 1700’s. Apparently though she was very chatty which as we should know by now the smuggling gangs were not keen on, especially when the chat was about their business. Hardly surprising that they were said to have murdered her for talking too much. She’s said to still wander the rooms in death, forever searching for her lover. There’s also been many reports of a lady wearing white or maybe grey who is seen sitting by the fireplace in a chair in what is now Room One. Guests apparently report getting wet clothes if they leave them on this chair overnight despite the lack of windows or even pipework near the chair.

One room in the Mermaid is said to have lots of reports, apparently all around Halloween many of a rocking chair which moves of it’s own accord as the temperature of the room plunges, in fact this has been said to be so unnerving that maids would only clean this room if with a colleague. One worker reported seeing the chair rocking quickly and seeing the cushion compress as if a live person was sat on it…but invisible. Some that have stayed in the room have reported hearing someone walking around the bed but there being nobody there upon inspection.

Other Supernatural Abettors to the Smuggling Trade

A mysterious herd of horses were said to guard the smugglers’ way up from the beaches of Cornwall. Fierce horses with fiery red eyes and hooves that sparked when they touched the ground were said to appear out of the mists to anyone foolish enough to travel those paths at night, especially on stormy nights known as “smugglers’ weather.”

Several smugglers’ villages had a local hell hound who guarded the local cemetery from customs men and excise riders and anyone else foolish enough to venture there after dark. Why? Because another stop on the smuggler’s route was often the tomb of a local wealthy family where the goods might be stored until they could be divided up to be sold. Again the ferocious black dogs had red glowing eyes, fangs dripping blood, and were said to to be the size of a small bull.

Ghostly owls were also part of a smuggler’s arsenal to keep prying eyes from their business. As owls were often associated with witches this threat was a twofold weapon. Especially as smugglers often used owl calls to communicate with each other!

What does this all mean? These stories, often created by the smugglers themselves, were a very real and very effective deterrent to detection! Were these ghosts and apparitions real or did they have any basis in fact? That’s the question, isn’t it?