After the Plague
Podcast: in conversation with Dr Piers Mitchell of the University of Cambridge, on studying the Black Death, medieval friars’ faeces and bunions caused by French pointy shoes.
One aspect of village life I find fascinating is finding out what people do and what their life stories are.
There are around 300 souls in our village and everyone has a story. While we don’t always see it, the extraordinary can always be found in the everyday.
For one neighbour, this is true in more ways than one.
Dr Piers Mitchell, whom I happened to sit next to at a village dinner last weekend, has two jobs. For part of the week, he is a children’s orthopaedic surgeon. The rest of his time is spent working with the Archaeology Department at the University of Cambridge, in the Ancient Parasites Laboratory.
It’s not often one sits down to dinner to discuss the plague, human faeces and bunions, and still look forward to dessert, but this was my experience last weekend at the village Gentlemen’s Dining Club.
I appreciate such an unappetising conversation at an apparently anachronistic gathering of old farts doesn’t sound promising, but hear me out.
Piers is a leading authority on evolutionary medicine: how humans coped with infectious diseases over time – and how diseases developed to continue infecting us.
He was part of a University of Cambridge team that undertook the project ‘After the Plague’, examining the health and lifestyles of different people in Cambridge before and after the Black Death. This involved examining skeletons excavated from St John’s College, previously a 12th century hospital, the remains of poorer folk from a church cemetery and wealthy, fashion-conscious Augustinian Friars.
As Piers explains in the podcast, one might say the monks were among the earliest fashion victims, since their penchant for fashionable French pointy shoes caused them some problems, not least bunions.
The everyday lives of medieval people making extraordinary stories today…
While chatting over an excellent dinner at The Marquees of Exeter in Lyddington, Piers also recommended a visit to Bede House, just along the high street. Once a bishop’s palace, it was visited by King Henry VIII and is regarded as one of the best preserved large, late medieval houses.
So, I returned to Lyddington yesterday to visit Bede House, as it opened its doors to the public for the 2023 season…
Lyddington Bede House
Lyddington Bede House was built as a medieval palace for the Bishops of Lincoln before becoming an almshouse for the poor, occupied until 1930.
As the Diocese of Lincoln was so large, stretching from the River Thames to the Humber Estuary, country houses were built for the bishops and their entourages to stay while travelling, sometimes several weeks at a time.
The first mention of a bishop’s palace in Lyddington is in the 13th century, but most of what remains today is the result of rebuilding in the 15th century. Bumps in a nearby field are the remnants of fish ponds that would have supplied the house.
The Bede House became an almshouse, Jesus Hospital, in 1600 under the proprietorship of Sir Thomas Cecil, son and heir of William Cecil of Burghley House, and housed 12 poor or needy men and two women.
To become a ‘bedesman’ the men applied directly to Lord Burghley. They had to be free from syphilis (also known as French pox), lunacy and leprosy. In return for shelter, they were expected to pray daily and know the 10 commandments.
What’s so interesting about visiting Bede House is the stripped-back simplicity of its history. The house is largely unfurnished, so some beautiful medieval features upstairs in the Bishop’s Chamber are on display.
The oak-carved medieval cornice, in particular, catches the eye. But what I found especially fascinating is what I first thought were stone floors.
Sagging in the middle, they are also somewhat springy, which I noticed when a couple, the only other visitors in the house, walked past. Cracked, uneven and bowing, it seemed inconceivable to have constructed a first floor with such heavy materials.
It turns out, according to a helpful sign, that the floors are made of mortar on a reed substructure supported by timber joists – and are a rare survivor of a type of floor used in high status houses across the East Midlands.
The bedesmen’s rooms, downstairs, are also interesting to see, with some dressed to give a feeling of what life would have been like: austere and freezing in winter, I imagine.
A visit to the next door Church of St Andrew, which hosts an array of music events (including Darius Brubeck, son of American jazz legend Dave Brubeck, who had played there the previous weekend) and a short walk around the village, brought to a close an enjoyable afternoon out in Lyddington.
PS Apologies to any French friends reading this. French pox, French shoes… anyone would think the English were historically biased. Pas vrai! Nous vous aimons!
• By the way, if you are looking for an excellent pub dinner, I can heartily recommend the Marquess of Exeter at Lyddington. The impeccably stylish General Manager, Gaurav Sindhwani, suavely dressed in tweed jacket and pocket square, made our dining club most welcome. And if you look up the credentials and international experience of award-winning head chef Krishnapal Negi, as I did, you’ll know you are in for a treat. We had a great night. As for the village gentlemen’s dining club, more on that another time…
Fascinating...that explains why my elderly mother with her painful bunion, hobbles and struggles with walking. As she once said, it was the pointed shoes she wore to Tea dances in the 50s!
Fascinating Medical History and stories