Ye Olde Inn. Ye Olde Sweet Shoppe. Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese… The word ‘ye’ pops up all over the place – shop names to gravestones. But what if I told you that the first letter of ‘ye’ isn’t a ‘y’ at all but, þ - an Old English letter called thorn (or þorn).
But how do you get from þ to y? It all had to do with William Caxton’s printing press of 1476. Many of the type fonts used were imported from Germany or Italy. These fonts didn’t have þ, but they did have the letter Y. And so, þ was replaced with Y.
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Now, I’m no etymologist and this is only a skim of the story of thorn, but þ was pronounced ‘th’. It was never pronounced with a ‘y’ sound.
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Even though the printing press started to replace þ with y, þ was already in decline, gradually being replaced with the letters (or digraph) ‘th’.
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But it didn’t disappear entirely. It lingered on in its ‘Y’ form in some abbreviations –places where space was tight… like on headstones. So, as well as timber-framed pubs and novelty sweet shops, the one place thorn survives (sort of) is in churches and churchyards.
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Caring for over 60 places of worship in England and Wales means that from a few of our churchyards you can see some varied sights.
From 20th century infrastructure to cultural landmarks, the fabric and fate of our churches has been shaped by their localities.
1/6 📷 Sutterby
On the Welsh border, in the remote fields of Herefordshire stands St Peter's, Llancillo. Adjacent to the church is an 8 meter high earthen Motte, which is all the remains of Llancillo Castle. This fortification was originally constructed in the 1090s by Richard Esketot.
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Releasing plumes of steam into the sky, the cooling towers of the Drax Power Station are visible, across the flat Yorkshire’s Ouse Valley, from St Helen's, Barmby on the Marsh. While St Helen’s tower was built in the 1770s, the cooling towers were constructed in the 1970s.
Red and yellow and pink and green ... most children can tell you that rainbows contain seven colours, and many of us use 'ROYGBIV' to remember them. But people haven't always seen rainbows this way.
Rubens' 'The Rainbow Landscape' of 1636 was painted just three decades before major new scientific theories about colour and light emerged. The rainbow lights up surrounding clouds with highlights of lemony yellow and blue.
In 1664, Robert Boyle conducted experiments with prisms, and in the 'artificial rain-bow' he produced, he observed five colours: Red, Yellow, Green, Blew and Purple. ...
The church at Skeffling was built from glacial clutter and recycled masonry in the 1400s. It sits in Holderness. A landscape of mudflats and salt-marshes washed into existence by the North Sea.
Here ‘leaves unnoticed thicken, hidden weeds flower, neglected waters quicken’.
Those are the words of poet, Philip Larkin. Larkin explored this area after he moved to Hull in 1955 to take up the position of librarian at the Brynmor Jones Library at the University of Hull. He lived there and held that job for thirty years, until his death in 1985.
Of Hull, he wrote "I never thought about Hull until I was here. Having got here, it suits me in many ways. It is a little on the edge of things, I think even its natives would say that. I rather like being on the edge of things.”
If there were more than 20 sheep in the flock, he could note the first 20 when he reached Figgit by putting a pebble in his pocket, and then starting the sequence from Yan again.
(info from 'Alex's Adventures in Numberland' by Alex Bellos)
In about 1300, five massive oak legs were pushed into the soil at Boveney to raise a belltower out of the clay tile roof of the 12th-century church. Inside, in the 1800s fielded panelling was installed, hiding those hardworking legs.
Perfect as that panelling looked, it obscured the most important timbers. Noticing that the bellcote was somewhat slumped, our architect removed some panels, and we found the legs were rotten. Boveney church was *almost* without a leg to stand on.
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Many things contributed to the decay-the high water-table of the river-bank church, deathwatch beetle, fruiting bodies… The panelling concealed this until it was almost too late. The words, ‘catastrophic collapse’, were used. Panic set in. The £60,000 repair bill quadrupled.
Between 1666 and 1680, the English parliament sought to protect the wool trade, by requiring the dead to be buried in nothing but a shroud of English sheep's wool. Plague victims and the destitute were the only exceptions.
The 'Burying in Woollen Acts' required an Affidavit within 8 days of burial, proving before a JP that the law had been complied with. Those who didn't comply were fined £5, half of which went to the poor. This blog has some terrific examples of affidavits:buff.ly/3YkB33B
Many wealthy families preferred to simply pay the fine and bury their loved ones in clothing or shrouds of finer materials, such as linen.