Some more Renaissance Pastimes

Many pastimes were Medieval in origin or even older; various forms of games with skittles were played, including Claish, or Closh which involved hoops and skittles and some form of stick and ball action.  It may have been a forerunner of croquet.  Bowls is the oldest game in this group of throwing or knocking a ball towards a target.  Skittles were known as kyles [Scotland] or kayles [England] from the Frenche quilles.  Skyttel meaning shuttle is a Scandinavian name and was not recorded for the game before 1630 when the version of ninepins more familiar to us today was formalised.  Earlier versions often used a cylinder or ‘cheese’ to bowl rather than a ball for greater challenge. 

Another stick and ball game is Billiards which was played on the ground but had come indoors in the late 15^th century.  It would not be generally played on a table until the last part of the 16^th century though Louis XI of France [1461-83] had a billiards table.  A short mallet was used to strike the balls, but the tail of it was often used for more precision strokes, from whence the word cue from the French queue meaning ‘tail’. 

Shuffleboard was a version of shove ha’penny; for pure board games there was Fox and Geese, Chess, and Draughts all of which are pretty much identical to the games as we know them today.  Tables  is now known as Backgammon.

Gambling was common with dice and cards alike.

Dice players had to be careful because of the various tricks professional cheats might use, from the simple loaded die – called fulhams -  with a piece of lead or drop of mercury in one side, for the cruder and more obvious version, or in the corner for the more sophisticated cheat who wanted a small edge without it being as obvious; whiskers protruding from the sides of dice [remember these games probably took place in a badly lit tavern which would be dark and smoky even in daylight] to prevent it rolling on to one side.  A cheat well versed in legerdemain could change fair dice and cheating dice by sleight of hand at will to have ‘highs’ or ‘lows’ to roll as he desired.

This might have been particularly useful for Raffle which required for a win to roll three dice the same number; Hazard required more skill when cheating, being not unlike the modern game of craps.

Card Games like Cent were popular: Cent was a favourite of Henry VIII. The court cards of the time were King, Queen and Jester, the princely Jack of later packs retaining something of the roguish nature of the Jester.  Cent is similar to piquet and requires a lot of counting to play well.  It is played with a pack of 36 cards, all cards under 6 discarded, and ace counting high [counting like the other picture cards as 10].

Betting on horse racing was also very popular; many towns had horse races, effectively steeple chases, on Whitsun or at Easter.  Local horse owners would enter in hopes of the purse that was put up for winners; side bets were also rife.

The less pleasant pastimes from our point of view were things like cock fighting  and bear baiting.  Betting took place on cock fighting naturally, and too on how long a bear might last, whether it killed any of the dogs set to bait it and so on. I suspect it is and English characteristic to bet on anything. 

Children’s Games

 children playing from a book of heraldry, showing a ball and a hobby horse

and some mechanical toy

Children played at skittles too, and similar games, and with balls, often home made from scraps of fabric or leather.  The bladder of the slaughtered pig blown up was a great toy to play with, nowadays simulated in latex as a balloon. 

Marbles were originally made of marble, but poor children used nuts or clay balls to play, and would doubtless be familiar with many modern variants of shooting at a rival’s marble, or at some ‘goal’ or the miniature version of bowls where marbles are shot into a circle scored in the dust to knock another marble out of it. 

Hopscotch was another simple game that could have the playing ground scored in the dust; and running and chasing games have been played since there have been children.

Boys and girls alike might play at diabolo – a game revived in the Victorian era and briefly again in the 1980’s – where a dumbbell shaped wooden toy was tossed from a string between two sticks, run up and down the stick and made to perform tricks by the most skilled. 

Diabolo: image from 'Antique toys and games' by Constance King

We would also recognise whipping tops and cup-and-ball though the latter was initially an adult toy and fascinated Henry III of France so much  he carried it with him everywhere. 

Hobby horses too were ridden by boys and girls alike; often these were no more than sticks held between the legs and ‘ridden’ and the horse’s head pure imagination.

Peter Bruegel gives lively images of leapfrog and pick-a-back games in his painting ‘Children’s games’; though he was painting after the period I describe it seems likely that the games of peasant children had not changed significantly.

For boys alone there was the game of bandy as described in my previous post ‘Pastime with or without good company’; or bowling hoops which might be bowled along the ground or tossed in the air and kept there with the controlling stick; or jump-rope.  Skipping did not become the preserve of girls for many a century and was in the Renaissance an exclusively male preserve.  Boys would also wrestle and compete in throwing the bar in emulation of their elders. 

A German manuscript of 1405 tells a boy how he might construct a kite and suggesting flying it from horseback as the most effective way of playing with it.

Girls had their poppets, or dolls; early room boxes might make a home for the very early Grodenthal type jointed wooden dolls from Nurenburg made their appearance in the early 15^th century.  I’ve seen a late 15^th century woodcut of a chapman with such dolls in his tray. Toy utensils were made, often of tin or wood, for playing with dolls and would be considered good training in housewifery for a little girl too.  

Dollmakers in Germany, images from the 'Hortus Saniatus' 1491

 Stump doll, later than my period being 1600 but doubtless similar to earlier examples

Another slightly later doll alleged to belong to Alicia Boleyn, cousin of Queen Anne Boleyn

this and above from 'Dolls' by Antonia Fraser

Boys and girls alike might play with puppets – a word derived from poppets – but usually at the time called mammets or mawmets, often clever kinetic toys that might be knights who jousted or acrobats who tumbled as well as simplified versions of the sorts of puppets professional puppet players used to put on a variety of plays mimicking the tastes of the time with live actors.   

 the best image I could find is this late 12th century one from the 'Hortus deliciarum'

Clay, wood and metal figures of horses and other animals including mythical ones were made as toys.  Sometimes the horses had riders.

Little girls might also play at crèche cradle – nowadays cat’s cradle – with a length of twine or wool. Clapping games were also played.

Children also gamed; the idea that it was an adult pastime was still in the future.  Indeed the future Henry VIII won half a mark from his father when he was seven years old. 

This despite laws against gaming passed by Henry VII.  Hmmm.

The food of Nelson’s Navy

Celebrating Trafalgar day in my usual off the wall fashion, which is why I'm posting a day earlier than usual.

Thanks to Dudley Pope ‘Life in Nelson’s Navy’ and Brian Lavery ‘Nelson’s Navy, the ships, men and organisation 1793-1815’

Seaman’s mess, showing the men sitting on sea chests, with their bags behind them and a rack for the mess cutlery and crockery. From the ‘Log Book’ 1830 but no very great difference to messes of the earlier period.

When on a long voyage, the food provided was of necessity such as could keep; and that meant, on the whole, a rather tedious and not particularly pleasant diet. 

Salt pork and salt beef in barrels were the staple food, and the opportunities to make a profit on this unappetising fare was considerable for the chandlers and pursers who provided it.  For one thing, a purser’s pound had only 14 ounces in it, not the standard 16; for another, as the meat was sealed in barrels it was not uncommon to provide poor or even rotting meat.  When each barrel was opened, the number of pieces of was recorded, ‘of which [so many] rotten’ being commonly recorded.  One of the complaints of the men at the Mutiny of the Nore was that they wanted 16 ounces to the pound.

This meat was boiled by the ship’s cook in huge vats as a stew, and the ‘slush’ or fat skimmed from the top.  The slush was used to grease blocks so they did not seize, but it was also a perk of the cook’s mate, often called ‘Slushy’ for this reason, to sell slush to the men to make the notorious ship’s biscuit more palatable.

The biscuit, officially called bread, was also called Hardtack.  It was very hard at first but as a voyage went on it became soft and crumbly, partly due to the weevils that ate it and lived within it.  It was customary to tap the biscuit hard to stun the weevils before eating.

Being made of unleavened flour with nothing but salt and water to make the dough, and baked slowly, they were a challenge to eat for their very hardness when fresh.  Dipped in the stew they would have softened somewhat and take on the flavour of it too, but a sailor with bad teeth would not have had an easy time of eating them. Hardtack came in with the Tudors when long voyages were first really commonplace.

The slush really made a difference in softening them.

The stew would have peas added to it – dried peas of course for the journey, probably the type of peas called Carlin peas which may still be purchased in the North of England in a poke with vinegar rather than the yellow split peas with which we are more familiar today – and oatmeal to thicken it. Oatmeal would also be used to make gruel/porridge for breakfast.

To prevent scurvy, a source of vegetables was imperative, and the usual solution to this from a conscientious captain was sauerkraut.  Pickled cabbage was cheap, kept well and was good for the men but was not popular.  I understand that opening a new barrel smelled rather like cat pee, which is understandably off-putting – and I LIKE sauerkraut in moderate quantities.  In port, the purser was directed to purchase fresh vegetables ‘when they can be procured and not at any time exceeding the peas saved, at the purser’s credit price.’ Carlin peas do retain more vitamin C than yellow split peas so they were of some help against scurvy. [Lloyd and Coulter, Medicine and the Navy vol III quoting regulations quoted in Lavery]

Lemons were issued in 1795, later substituted for limes for economy as an anti-scorbutic but many captains purchased extra provisions like sauerkraut or citrus fruit.

When my father was in the Merchant Marine for his National Service he recalled that lime juice was reckoned about the best way to clean the tables which it bleached clean.  He was not alone in being mildly concerned about what it might do to his stomach lining if it was so miraculous a bleach….. I wonder if the sailors of Nelson’s time felt the same.

Some ships had henhouses to give the men a source of fresh eggs, generally either these ended up on the Wardroom table for the officers or would be issued as buttered eggs, possibly without the butter however if it had gone rancid….!  We would nowadays call it scrambled eggs.

Daily Rations – In theory

Every day each man was supposed to have:

1lb ship’s biscuit

4 lb beef

2 lb pork

2 lb peas

1½ lb oatmeal

6 oz sugar

6 oz butter

And over the week spread out, 12 oz cheese.

Other provisions could be substituted when necessary, ie on a foreign station when ‘normal’ rations were not available; replacing flour and raisins for beef would probably have been a matter of some discontent, even more than replacing biscuit with rice.

In port too, fresh beef could replace salt when available. 

Each county was supposed to provide a certain amount of cheese for the navy as a levy, but the sailors always hated to receive Suffolk cheese which was reckoned so hard the only use of it was to carve buttons from it. 

The men ate in messes of usually 8 -12 men who had their own mess utensils.  It was the sign of an unhappy ship if there were frequent requests to change mess as this generally indicative of bullying and poor discipline.  Attitudes often come from the top but a wise captain, noting such requests, might be able to track down the source of trouble either in a particular mess or in one of his officers or petty officers failing to keep good discipline or encouraging bad discipline in favouritism or unfairness.  A seaman could generally request a change of mess once a month; choosing mess mates was one of the few freedoms aboard ship.  Each man served his turn as cook of the mess, collecting the ration for his mess from the steward to take to the cook, collect it to feed his mates, and see to washing the utensils the mess used and keeping them in good order.

Drink

Casked water tends to taste foul after it has been stored for any length of time, but when surrounded by the non-potable briny it was the only option.  A cask on deck, the scuttle butt, was generally free to all, and chatter around this led to the term ‘scuttlebutt’ for the spread of gossip.  Where water was short rationing would be instituted and a sentry posted to prevent any man having more than his share.  Generally beer was preferred [and kept better] and was issued at a rate of one gallon per man per day, though usually only in home waters.  As a substitute each man would be allowed ‘a pint of wine, or half a pint of rum, brandy or other spirits’ [Admiralty regulations and instructions] the spirits being diluted one part spirit to two parts water to be mixed on deck for issue. 

Conspiracy theory for fun

The mystery surrounding the little Princes in the Tower is well known – and generally the libel by Shakespeare concerning Richard III’s hand in the matter has been debunked. After all, Richard had already had them declared illegitimate since Edward IV had been through a previous form of marriage ceremony before marrying Elizabeth Woodville, which was at least attested to, whether true or not. He had no need to kill his nephews – and it is notable that it was many years before the claim that he had done so was first made, a suspicious note in a king trying to establish his legitimacy like Henry VII not to declare right away that the princes had been done away with – if they had. After all, would he not be concerned about the fates of his wife’s brothers? Apparently not very.

Personally I am inclined to think they may have died of natural causes in Henry’s custodianship which gave him the idea to claim them murdered by their uncle, but there is no proof as to whether that happened or whether indeed Henry thought sons of the House of York, however legitimate or otherwise, too inconvenient to be allowed to live. Or if one died the other was, as you might say, pushed….. And poor old Tyrell who ‘confessed’ under torture showing once again that the tortured tell their interrogators what they want to know.

 the Millais painting was really the only pic available...

typically romanticised in the Victorian fashion when belief in the

wicked uncle was the only accepted theory

It is however interesting to note that they were not the only convenient deaths to aid Henry in his dynastic pretensions.  Margaret Drummond was the mistress, sweetheart, and said by some to be the secret wife of James IV of Scotland; she had a daughter by him, Margaret Stewart.  In 1501 she and her sisters Eupheme [probably known in the Scots fashion as Pymma] and  Sibylla succumbed to some form of poisoning.  It may well have been food poisoning – hygiene was not always well practised in the era – and they did all eat the same meal.  However in a case of food poisoning it’s not that common for everyone who ate the same thing to die as different people do react differently. 

Her death came shortly after Henry VII lit upon the idea of potentially controlling Scotland by marrying his daughter Margaret to James IV.

Interesting that.

James prayed for the souls of his mistress and her sisters all his life, and maintained their daughter; somehow I find it hard to see him being implicated in a murder to clear the way for marrying into the family of more politically powerful England.

Henry on the other hand was a shrewd and canny operator who could think in the long term.  And if nothing else a dynastic marriage meant a better likelihood of truces being kept [well that one went down the tubes] and therefore no expenditure on border war.  Henry VII was a very thrifty man.

He had motive.

He had means – a long purse.

And a skilled poisoner could always find opportunity.

Have I any proof?  Not a jot.  It’s just a conspiracy theory based on the idea of convenient deaths and a monarch with a sufficiently tenuous claim to need security.

 James IV of Scotland courtesy Wiki

The upshot of this was that Henry sent his 12 year old daughter to a cold foreign land and a husband more than twice her age for his ambition.  The little Scottish Queen was not happy with the bargain and her husband always mourned his lost love. 

Real Politik.  Don’t you just love it.

Starboard and Larboard

Nowadays we talk about Port and Starboard, but Larboard is the older term for Port and was certainly used at the time of Nelson’s navy. The change to the word Port came in the middle of the 19^th century.

So where do these odd terms come from?

Starboard is easy; it is merely a corruption of ‘steerboard’.  Early ships were steered by a rudder that was like a whopping great oar over the side – the steerboard side – which was the other side to that customarily brought alongside a dock.  Docking onto the rudder could of course break it; and there were reasons the other side was laid against a staithe. The side to place the steerboard was a decision based on the fact that the majority of the population are right handed, and to have it on the right was more convenient.

The move to a central rudder or centreboard began in the 13^th Century; the earliest depiction of a ship with a central rudder board is on the Great Seal of Ipswich, which is extremely early since King John presented the Charter to the town in 1200. This innovation meant that ships could be built larger and were more manoeuvrable

So why Larboard?

This is a bit more of a corruption than its counterpart, coming from the old word ‘laddebord’ or ‘load side’. The word corrupted to rhyme with starboard because it doubtless seemed more logical to sailors once the old word had become obsolete.  Ships had a large loading port on this side which would be the side presented to any dockside when dockside was present.  It was not uncommon to heel a ship over in the mud at low tide to load it, a doubtless smelly and messy business carrying goods across tidal mud. 

The ‘Kraek’ picture of a carrack shows the loading port quite clearly.

Oh, why port? Because it has the loading port in it.  The reason for changing the name was probably something to do with how easy Starboard and Larboard are to get mixed up when listening to orders in a howling gale.

Note the old word ‘bord’ for ‘side’ persists in naval and boating terminology in such words as ‘inboard’ to bring something inside as it were, and the ‘outboard’ or external motor. The etymology of the word gives us the word ‘border’ as well, a delineating region.  There is no relation to the word that gave us board, a plank, table and other words deriving thereof.