The Old Dog and Duck

by Albert Jack

  An image of an eagle with wings and talons outstretched has been connected with dynasties stretching across the world, from England to Germany, Poland, Romania, Serbia and Austria. In America the bald eagle, the national bird of the United States, famously appears, wings and talons outspread, on the great seal of office, designed by Charles Thomson in June 1782. (Interestingly, this was the source of the American expression ‘spread-eaglism’, describing extreme patriotism in the form of aggressive foreign policy.) Any of these could have inspired the image used on pub signs. Indeed, displaying a royal or aristocratic crest has long been how landlords and hotel owners have shown their loyalty to the monarchy or local ruling family. While Napoleon Bonaparte also used the spread eagle on his own crest, a symbol retained by the House of Bonaparte to this day, I doubt this has inspired any English pub signs, unless the bird also had Wellington’s boot aimed at its backside (see THE IRON DUKE).

  But the pub name could also have been referring to something rather more ghoulish. During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the Royal Navy’s punishments for disobedience, absenteeism and even relatively minor offences were unimaginably brutal. It was common for a crew member to be tied to a mast or over a cannon with his arms and legs outstretched in a position known as the ‘spread eagle’, after which he would be subjected to however many lashes of a cat o’ nine tails the captain deemed necessary. A ‘cat’ consisted of nine lengths of thin-knotted rope bound at one end into a handle, while the flogging was usually carried out by one of the victim’s shipmates in full view of the rest of the crew. But as it was also likely that the shipmate would himself be a victim of the cat o’ nine tails at some stage on a voyage, he would tend to be lenient with his victim, applying only light stokes and merely ‘scratching’ the fellow’s back. He himself would then receive equally lenient treatment by another shipmate if he was ever on the receiving end, which led to the expression ‘You scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours’.

  The Standard

  HOW THE THREE LIONS OF ENGLAND BECAME STANDARD

  A standard is a flag or banner used by an individual, country or army as a clear sign of identity. Most countries with a monarchy have a royal standard and many republics will display a traditional military standard, identifying their army or a particular regiment. Originally designed to be shield-shaped, as most emblems were displayed upon the shield of a king or nobleman, the standard was essentially triangular, tapering from a rectangle at one end almost to a point at the other, and was invariably hung vertically. Such flags were inspired by the Roman military standards. Designed to make their armies stand out in battle, these could be used as a rallying point for the troops and were also a good way of intimidating the enemy (see also THE SPREAD EAGLE).

  The famous royal standard of England, also known as the Three Lions, has its origins in the Battle of Hastings in 1066. The royal standard prior to this, that of Edward the Confessor (1042–66), is believed to have been a cross surrounded by five martlets (birds). When Edward died childless, influential Anglo-Saxons insisted the king had granted the throne to Harold, an earl who had united Mercia (the Midlands) and led a successful war against the Welsh. Edward’s second cousin William of Normandy challenged this, claiming he had been promised the throne by the late king. William considered Harold’s coronation a declaration of war and he began to assemble an army in northern France. With a force of nearly 9,000 transported in a fleet of 700 ships, William landed on the southern coast of England on 28 September 1066, set up camp near Hastings and waited for Harold to arrive.

  Poor Harold, however, was busy annihilating the Vikings near York in the north of England at the Battle of Stamford Bridge. It took him until 11 October to return to London, regroup and head south to meet William and address the new threat to his kingdom. Harold’s standard was first seen by William’s scouts on the evening of 13 October and the battle for England began the following morning as both armies clashed, the Norman troops bearing aloft William’s standard of two golden lions (see THE WHITE LION) and the English Harold’s red dragon. The flags of both sides are depicted on the Bayeux Tapestry, reputedly commissioned by Matilda, William’s wife, to commemorate the historic event. As well as depicting the action on the battlefield, the tapestry also illustrates the comet first identified by Edmund Halley (1656–1748), after whom it is named and who predicted its cycle of 75–6 years. Rich in detail, the tapestry also records how Harold was apparently killed, by a single arrow through an eye slit of his helmet, making William the conqueror.

  So from that point William’s two lions became the royal standard of England. The third lion was added just over a century later by King Richard I, the Lionheart (1157–99), the banner proudly displayed during the Crusades (see THE GEORGE AND DRAGON and THE SARACEN’S HEAD). Standards were important during times of battle as retreating armies would always regroup around the identifying standard, which would be raised high in the air on pikes or lances so that it was clearly visible to all. As a royal or national standard was seen to represent the army itself, it became customary for victors on the battlefield to take the standard of their defeated enemy. In the Middle Ages, the standards of individual knights would be stuck into the ground when camp was set up, enabling soldiers to easily identify the knight to whose army they belonged. Individual standards also had an important role to play during peacetime – at religious festivals, jousting tournaments or during the hunt.

  A standard was thus the normal way for a knight to identify himself; his soldiers would declare loyalty to the standard, many even idolizing it. Flags and coats of arms have been used ever since to identify the nobility and hence, in the past, often displayed by innkeepers to align themselves with whichever noble family was in power.

  The Star and Garter

  THE UNDERWEAR THAT BECAME A DISTINGUISHED MILITARY AWARD

  When Edward III came to the throne in 1327, things weren’t looking too good for the monarchy. His father, Edward II, had had a disastrous reign. Bullied by his father, Edward I, he was much more interested in games than in kingship. His wars were unsuccessful, especially in Scotland, where a disastrous defeat at Bannockburn in 1314 had released Scotland from English control. His violent affection for his favourite, Piers Gaveston, led to war with his barons. After they murdered Gaveston, the heartbroken king had kept the remains of his body close to him for a number of weeks before the Church forcibly arranged a burial. Things got so bad that Parliament agreed to his wife Isabella and her lover Roger Mortimer deposing him, although not to his later murder at Berkeley Castle in Gloucestershire, reputedly by introducing a red-hot poker into his rectum (as it was widely believed that he was homosexual).

  After the young king had revenged himself on Isabella and Mortimer, mounting a coup to depose them, he needed to drastically improve the public perception of royalty. He also wanted to improve his relationship with the nobility, who had been estranged by his father. He did this by introducing a code of chivalry and evoking the stories of England’s legendary king, Arthur. He championed the use of heraldry, which symbolically marked out the powers of the nobility. He chose a new patron saint for England, St George, a dragon-fighting, maiden-rescuing soldier in place of another murdered English king (see THE CROWN AND ARROWS). And in 1344, he resolved to form his own band of knights, like Arthur’s, and to install his own Round Table at Windsor Castle. (Arthur had chosen a round table so none of his knights could claim precedence; Edward was equally keen to be seen not to be picking favourites.) Although the table was never actually constructed, Edward did create a special order, consisting of his twenty-four best knights. Each was presented with a blue garter as the king’s highest military award.

  There are two theories about why this symbol was chosen. According to the first one, the garter was one of the straps a knight would use to secure his armour to his limbs. It was said that Richard the Lionheart, inspired in the twelfth century by the story of St George (see THE GEORGE AND DRAGON), had given garters to his knights
for bravery while fighting in the Crusades.

  The second, much more popular theory involves underwear rather than armour. The beautiful Countess of Salisbury was dancing near King Edward at Eltham Palace, and was highly embarrassed to find her garter slip from her thigh and land upon the floor in front of the entire court. The tale has it that noble courtiers began sniggering at the sight of a lady’s undergarment being revealed to one and all. Rather different from today when you can find young ladies’ underwear discarded in just about every bar or nightclub, whether Tom Jones is in town or not. The king, being the gentleman he was, retrieved the garter and placed it upon his own leg with the words ‘Honi soit qui mal y pense’ (‘Shamed be the person who thinks evil of it’). Both stories reflected well on the king.

  A few years later, King Edward, his son the Black Prince and his twenty-four knights led an army of long-bowmen at the Battle of Crécy in 1346, who cut the French army to shreds on the battlefield, completely destroying France’s military capability for years to come. The king felt the Order of the Garter had inspired the knights to a famous victory and this great English tradition of awarding the garter to the mightiest of military warriors has continued to this day.

  But there has been one significant addition to the award over the last 650 years, introduced by King Charles I during the seventeenth century when he added an eight-point silver medal, or badge, in the shape of a star with the cross of St George at the centre. At this time the garter was also altered and became a four-inch sash to be worn over the shoulder in line with the fashion of the time. From then onwards, the symbolic award has been known as the Star and Garter, or the Royal Star and Garter, and the English being the English were bound to honour this highest of honours, the highest in the land, in fact, by naming various alehouses after it as a tribute to some of our great military heroes.

  The earliest reference to the Star and Garter being used as the name of an inn or hostelry comes from 1509 when a royal party dined at the village of Shene, a fishing hamlet on the banks of the Thames that later made way for Richmond, and were presented with a bill for their meal by ‘the host of the Star and Garter’. Three hundred years later, Charles Dickens became a frequent guest at another Star and Garter in Richmond, marking many important events there, including the birth of his son and over twenty wedding anniversaries. He even held a party at the hotel to celebrate the publication of his novel David Copperfield in 1850. The writer continued to meet friends and acquaintances at the hotel until his death in 1870, the same year that the original building was destroyed by fire, although there is no connection. These days the place is called the Petersham Hotel, presumably because it is near the Petersham Road that leads to, you’ve guessed it, Petersham. Not nearly as interesting a name, is it?

  But the Star and Garter in Pall Mall is probably one of the most famous establishments going by this name. It has housed, at various times, the Jockey Club and the Carlton Club, as well as being used to hold the meeting of the committee who revised the cricket laws in 1774 to introduce the ‘leg before wicket’ (LBW) rule. It was also the venue of a notorious duel in 1765 between Lord Byron, great-uncle of the poet, and his neighbour Mr Chaworth, who had been arguing over the important matter of who had the most game living on their respective country estates in Nottinghamshire. Chaworth died in one of the inn’s rooms as a result of his injuries, although he lived long enough to write his will and compose a letter to his mother informing her of the ‘unfortunate incident’ as he bled to death. Byron survived his wounds but, shunned by society, retired to his Newstead estate where he lived the remainder of his life as a virtual recluse with only his two dogs for company. His sad spirit is said to haunt the grounds to this day. Clearly the wine had been flowing rather too freely at the dinner table in the Star and Garter, Pall Mall, on that particular day.

  The Swan with Two Necks

  CAN YOU NICK SWANS WHEN YOU OWN THEM?

  In the twelfth century, the swan was claimed as a royal bird and only the reigning monarch was permitted to own such a graceful creature, let alone eat one. (They didn’t seem too graceful when I was chased into a canal by some swans many years ago, but that’s another story.) Since then the English tradition of Swan Upping – a sort of census to check swan numbers – has been carried out annually during the third week of July. During the ceremony the ‘Swan Uppers’ of the reigning monarch, currently Queen Elizabeth II, together with those of the Vintners and Dyers (permitted co-owners of the swans), row along the River Thames. Each swan they find along the route is then caught and those collected by the Queen’s men are returned to the water, while those caught by the Vintners and Dyers are ringed before being put back.

  The Worshipful Company of Vintners was granted a royal charter by Edward III on 13 July 1363, giving them the rights over all wine imports from Gascony in France. The charter also provided rights to sell wine anywhere in England without a licence and the Vintners soon became the most powerful company in the wine trade, raising vast sums of money for the king.

  In the sixteenth century Queen Elizabeth I granted rights of ownership of the regal bird both to the Vintners and to the Worshipful Company of Dyers. She ordered that the swans be distinguished from the royal flock by having their beaks marked with two distinctive nicks for the Vintners and one for the Dyers. Over the years, as with so much of the English language, this phrase has been corrupted, leading to the disturbing image of a mutant swan with two necks, although that was not the good Queen’s original intention. (Today the swans caught by the Vintners during Swan Upping are marked with a ring on both legs to distinguish them from the royal flock. Those caught by the Dyers are marked with a ring on one leg.) As the Vintners had formed connections with taverns and hostelries around the country, it was common to see a sign of a swan – at first with two nicks on its beak, later with two necks – to advertise their wine.

  The Three Horseshoes

  ONE WAY TO WARD OFF THE DEVIL

  Since most horses are provided with four legs and therefore need four shoes, we can be forgiven for finding something odd about this famous pub name. An old story is told of a pub near a blacksmith’s yard where coach drivers or stable lads would pop in for an ale or two while waiting for their steed to have a new shoe fitted. The horse would, naturally, be down to three shoes at that point; hence the pub displayed, as its sign, three horseshoes to indicate to travellers that there was a blacksmith working nearby. The inn further along the road, on the way out of town, was known as the Four Horseshoes because by the time the rider, or coach driver, reached it, the horses would have their full quota of footwear.

  A single horseshoe has been considered a symbol of good luck for centuries, although there have always been disputes over which way the horseshoe should be hung, up or down, and disputes about which is ‘up’ or ‘down’ anyway. According to an old myth, fairies were believed to be afraid of iron. As horseshoes were made of iron and easy to come by, they would be hung above the doors of frightened villagers to keep them safe from wicked fairies.

  A similar story about the magical properties of horseshoes concerns Saint Dunstan (909–88). By trade Dunstan was apparently a blacksmith and one day he was approached by the Devil himself because his own fiery charger had lost a shoe. The Devil pleaded with St Dunstan to re-shoe his horse, but instead the man of God nailed the iron shoe to the Devil himself, causing him great pain. St Dunstan then only agreed to remove it after the Devil had promised never to enter any place displaying a horseshoe over the door. And that is apparently a true story. Well, it obviously isn’t true because I don’t believe St Dunstan was ever a blacksmith. In fact, I doubt he ever did a day’s work in his life. What is true is that this story, or one similar, no doubt accounts for how the superstition of a lucky horseshoe evolved. Hence a pub called the Three Horseshoes would appear to suggest the fourth is hanging over the door to ward off the Devil, should he ever decide to drop by for a pint.

  The Three Lords

  THREE JACOBITE LOR
DS A-LEAPING… TO THEIR DEATHS

  It may sound as though this should be yet another pub name celebrating the great and good, but the story behind it is actually rather more bloodthirsty. The three lords in question were rebels who got caught.

  The Jacobite Risings were a series of wars started by Scottish rebels who hoped to return the ousted Stuart family to the throne of England. Jacobus is the Latin form of the name of the last Stuart king in England, James II (1633–1701), deposed in 1688. What is now known as the First Jacobite Rebellion, the first major uprising, failed at the Battle of Preston in 1715. Then in 1743 James’s grandson, Charles Edward Stuart (commonly known as Bonnie Prince Charlie or, by his opponents, as the Young Pretender), was encouraged by the French king, Louis XV, to invade England from the north, while the French (with the blessing of the Pope) invaded from the south.

  When a massive storm in the English Channel decimated their fleet, the French invasion plans were cancelled. Nothing daunted, Bonnie Prince Charlie continued with his plans, however, sailing for Scotland in July 1745 where he raised support for his cause among the Scottish clans, triggering what is remembered as the Second Jacobite Rebellion. Throughout that winter the Scottish rebels and government troops fought bloody battles all over Scotland, culminating in the encounter at Culloden, near Inverness, where the government forces, led by the Duke of Cumberland, crushed Charles’s forces on 16 April 1746. Determined to stamp out any remaining support for the Jacobite cause, Cumberland’s troops pursued the rebels through the Highlands, killing every battlefield survivor they could find. Indeed, such was his enthusiasm for revenge, Cumberland picked up the nickname of ‘the Butcher’. Charles himself escaped, literally Scot-free and dressed as a ladies maid, leaving his supporters behind to face the unpleasant music.