'Wyspes, Kexis and Cokenay in Medieval Tottenham' by Karen Maitland

I've recently been re-reading the medieval satirical poem The Turnament of Totenham, (Tournament of Tottenham). It was written by an unknown author sometime before 1456 and is set in Tottenham which was, in the Middle Ages, a little village near London, though its country lanes are now city streets.

The poem tells the story of a tournament in which the men of the village, some of whom already have wives, compete for the hand of Tyb, the reeve’s daughter, after the potter, Perkyn, boasts that he is the only man worthy of her. To add to her charms, the lovely Tyb comes with a dowry of an old grey mare and a spotted sow. The men ride to the joust on field mares, with pots and buckets on their heads instead of helmets. The tournament quickly descends into a pitched battle and come nightfall, the women and wives have to take their bruised and crippled menfolk home on hurdles, cratch (fodder rack) and in wheelbarrows.

Academics continue to argue over the target of the humour in this poem. It’s been suggested that it could be depiction of a mock battle which might have been enacted by villagers during Shrovetide, a time of the year notorious for the performance of bawdy plays and songs full of sexual innuendo. Others have claimed that the poem was penned as warning to those participating in the increasing rowdy knights’ tournaments telling them not behave like peasants, or was it a warning to the lower classes not make fools of themselves by trying to ape their masters?


Men using flails the thresh grain

 Whatever the aim of the poet, the interest for me is in the rich details of everyday day contained in some of the lines. The villagers rode to the tournament on their wooden saddles which could be piled all round with goods as high as the rider’s waist when he or she was going to market, which also helped prevent them falling off if the horse bolted. The poet has the villagers carrying winnowing baskets as shields, which in fact were used by the farm lads if pressed into battle. Their weapons were rakes, hoes and flails. Flails were used by the Cornish wool and tin smugglers in the Middle Ages to defend themselves against those sent to hunt them down, since a man who had years of practise using a flail on a farm could use it to disarm a man wielding a sword. And if the smugglers were caught with flails on the road they could not be accused of carrying weapons.

Cow parsley with its hollow stem 

But one of the most telling lines for me, comes towards the end of the poem -

'All the wives of Tottenham come to see that sight,
With wyspes and kexis and ryschys their light,
To fetch home their husbands, that were them troth plight.'

There is so much history hidden in those three words wyspes, kexis and ryschys or wisps, kexes and rushes, for these were the poor man’s means of lighting. Wisps or wispies were made when extracting honey from the bee skeps. The warmed honey comb would be pressed through straw, and after the honey had dripped through, the straw, covered in melted wax, would be pressed into bundles and left to harden. These would be used as candles or tapers when bright light was needed, though they did not burn for long.

Kexis, kexes or kex refers to hollowed-stemmed plants of the umbelliferous family, such as hemlock, cow-parsley and chervil. The folk-name for cow-parsley in some parts of England is still keckies. The stems of these plants would be dried and stuffed with tow, the waste fibres of flax or hemp, to make lights. These would burn longer than wispies, but would be much smokier.

Soft Rushes. Photo: Christian Fischer

Ryschys or rushes, were either bulrushes with the heads soaked in wax or, more likely, rush candles. These were not easy to make, though children had to master the art early on, for a great many were needed especially during the winter months. Soft rushes, Juncus effusus, were cut in summer and plunged into water straightaway, so they didn’t shrink and bend. They then had to be peeled, leaving just one narrow rib of peel to support the pith. It took skill to do this evenly and leave the pith intact. The rushes were then left out for several days to bleach and absorb the night dew before finally being sun-dried. Finally came the eye-stinging process of dipping them in scummings, melted animal fat saved from cooking. Sometimes this could be mixed with melted wax if you had any to spare, which would make them burn longer and clearer. A rush light of around two and half feet long was reckoned to burn for an hour.

Another plant used to make these ‘rush candles’ was Common Mullein (verbascum). One of its old folk names is the Roman name Candelaria, because since ancient times it has been stripped of its leaves, and the resinous dried stalk dipped in tallow, and burned as lights or tapers. Hence its other names such as hedge-taper and Our Lady’s candle.

Satire or not, the poet paints a wonderful picture of some of the everyday objects and tools that would have been so familiar to the medieval audience, and leaves such a valuable insight for us.

By the way, if you don’t know the ending of the story in the poem, Perkyn the potter wins the tournament by being the only man left standing. He and Tyb spend the night together as result of which they find they are compatible and agree to marry or in other versions are declared by the poet to be married - an interesting allusion to the wide-spread custom of common-law marriages.

Guests are invited to a marriage feast, at which each fifth man is served with a cokenay. Some define this as a bad egg or a small egg, otherwise known as a cock’s egg. Misshapen or small eggs were said to be laid by cocks. It is also a vulgar pun, in that this term was also used for small or misshapen testicles or men believed to be impotent.

Pushing up Profits

by Marie-Louise Jensen

How do you make a quick buck selling smuggled goods? Or even selling goods to be smuggled? You have to convince your potential client that the goods you are selling are superior even when they are shoddy.

The profit margin in smuggling was already pretty high, especially in the early years of the eighteenth century. And the risks were reasonably low. But there always seem to be a few rogues who don’t scruple to cheat anyway.

There were endless popular tricks. One was for cloth or lace. You take a piece of really good quality cloth and tack it onto something inferior. Sooner or later, you’re bound to get a gullible client who doesn’t unroll the whole thing and just looks at the first bit.

Smuggling tea, which began when duty was put on it in 1724 (just after the time Smuggler’s Kiss is set), was also open to cheating. I've mentioned this in a previous post, but good quality tea was smuggled across the channel and then often adulterated with other dried leaves before being sold on.

More devious still was putting a small insert into a barrel of brandy. This was filled with good quality brandy. You could then safely offer a buyer the chance to taste (tapping this small section, of course). They would be impressed and buy a whole barrel of rough, undrinkable stuff and not discover until it was too late. 

When I hear stories of toxic substances in drugs and contraband cigarettes, I realise nothing much has changed. And as we've seen with the horsemeat scandal recently, it isn't restricted to illegal goods - though it is a particular problem with them as they bypass any regulation.

Lovey Warne of the New Forest

by Marie-Louise Jensen

I mentioned last month some of the ways in which women took part in the smuggling trade. Today, I'd like to say a few words about a particular female smuggler; Lovey Warne.

The Warnes were a New Forest family heavily engaged in the trade. The two brothers John and Peter ran goods in from the coast and their sister Lovey assisted them.

She was a human signal, said to have walked on Verely Hill whenever the revenue men were abroad and a run was taking place. The sight of her in her cloak effectively warned the landers to be cautious. I'm not entirely sure how this worked as normally landers brought goods inland on moonless nights, but that is how the story goes. I borrowed the trick for my own character, Isabelle, who walks along the clifftop at Kimmeridge in a red cloak to give the incoming ship the all clear. In fact the red cloak has even made it on to the book's jacket:

 

Lovey also wrapped lace around herself beneath her clothes and boldly walked off the smuggling ship and home with the lace to evade the revenue officers - who, as I've mentioned before, weren't allowed to rummage women. Apparently this career came to an abrupt end when she was invited for a drink in the inn by a revenue officer. She dared not refuse and he took liberties with her; his hand stealing to her waist and thigh to check for lace. She only escaped his attentions by jabbing him in the eye with her elbow and fleeing while the landlady sat on him under pretence of tending his eye.

These incidents, too, I have borrowed for Isabelle. They were just too delightful to pass over.

A Key to Smuggling Terminology

by Marie-Louise Jensen

Like every area of life, the illicit trade of smuggling has its own vocabulary. I think it's more colourful than most.
Firstly the smugglers had euphemisms for themselves. They were not smugglers, they were Free Traders. Or else Gentlemen of the Night. (As opposed to Gentlemen of the Road who were highwaymen). The term 'gentlemen' is naturally very loose here, as any cursory study of the brutality of the Hampshire smuggling gangs will show.
Then there were specialised roles within smuggling. Wool smugglers were traditionally known as owlers. There's some dispute about the origin of the word. Flaskers specialised in smuggling liquor. The smugglers in charge of the beach and the land-based network were Landers and Tubmen.
The terms for the customs and excise officers are even more varied, naturally. They were known as Preventers, Preventy men, Preventives, Philistines, Watersharks, Landsharks, Pickaroons, Gobloos, Gaugers, Shingle Pickers and even Bluebottles. Clearly, the King's Men were much loved...

The cargo of a smuggling ship was a crop, particularly when it was sunk at sea for later collection. Such contraband was then also known as laggan. Brandy which had been left sunk too long and had spoiled was stinkibus.
Smuggling vessels and smugglers were not searched, they were rummaged. And the smuggled goods also had nicknames; gin was Hollands or Genevars while brandy was Cousin Jacky.
Liquor was smuggled in kegs, which were barrels roped in pairs and carried one in front and one on your back, or ankers which were larger and would need to loaded onto carts.
The captain of the smuggling vessel who could navigate in the dark with incredible accuracy to pre-arranged drop-off points was a spotsman. And (my favourite) the blue flash from a pistol, loaded with powder but not shot, which guided the ships into shore was a flink. Though a spout lantern (which showed light only out to sea) was used once signalling ships from land was made illegal.
Right, now you know the lingo, you are ready to begin free trading.