Itchy snitch

 

Itchy snitch

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

If your nose itches, the saying is, ‘Be kissed, be cursed or shake hands with a fool.’ At least, that is what I remember. However, in Wiltshire, the response  is, ‘Should your nose itch you will either be kissed, cursed, vexed, run against  a gatepost, or shake hands with a fool,’ whereas in Norfolk, the saying is, ‘If  your nose itches you'll hear some news: left side – ‘bad', right side – ‘good', or you will be kissed by a fool.’

I can find neither rhyme nor reason for these sayings – they’re just nonsense. They must have started somewhere, but under what circumstances?

An itchy nose is sometimes a precursor to a sneeze.

Sneezing had several explanations in less enlightened times. In the Middle Ages people believed that sneezing rid the body of evil spirits, or that the body was laid open to the Devil to make his entrance, overcome and take possession of the sneezer.

During the Black Death in the 14^th century in Europe, sneezing was a worrying symptom that might lead to bubonic plague. That was a natural and logical reaction.

Meanwhile, the Christian church believed the heart stopped during a sneeze and some people still believe that a person is closest to sudden death while sneezing.

None of these seem to lead logically or seamlessly to being kissed, cursed or shaking hands with a fool! That is, apart from bubonic plague, which would certainly be a curse.

Three little pigs

 

The three little pigs

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

I saw a version of this on another site and it made me smile.

 

The three little pigs went out to dinner one night.

The waiter came to take their drink orders.

‘I’d like gin and tonic,’ said the first little piggy.

‘I’d like white wine,’ said the second little piggy.

‘I’d like water, lots and lots of water,’ said the third little piggy.

 

When the waiter asked them if they were ready to order their main course, the first little piggy said, ‘I’d like a big, juicy steak.’

The second little piggy said, ‘I’d like fish and chips.’

The third little piggy said, ‘‘I’d like water, lots and lots of water.’

 

Asked if they’d like dessert, the first little piggy said, ‘I’d like apple pie and custard.’  

The second little piggy said, ‘I’d like lemon sorbet.’

The third little piggy said, ‘‘I’d like water, lots and lots of water.’

 

The waiter was puzzled and said to the third little piggy, ‘Excuse me for asking, but why have you only ordered water for every course?’

The third little piggy said, ‘Well, one of us has to go wee, wee, wee all the way home.’

 

The Keel Row

 

The Keel Row

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

 Thinking about the Kiel Canal brought to mind the song, ‘The Keel Row,’ only because Kiel and Keel rhyme! As with most folk songs, there are variations.

https://youtu.be/qZ8u1ZE-reo?si=K4q7Tg8YnvL8OzA6

As I came thro' Sandgate,
Thro' Sandgate, thro' Sandgate,
As I came thro' Sandgate,
I  heard a lassie sing:
      "O, weel may the keel row,
      The keel row, the keel row,
      O weel may the keel row
      That my laddie's in.

He wears a blue bonnet,
Blue bonnet, blue bonnet,
He wears a blue bonnet
A dimple in his chin.
      And weel may the keel row,
      The keel row, the keel row,
      And weel may the keel row
      That my laddie's in.

‘The Keel Row’ is a traditional folksong based on the work of the keelmen of Newcastle upon Tyne. Keels were flat-bottomed boats, which carried coal from the shallow banks of the river to small wooden coal-carrying ships called colliers. The colliers waited in the Tyne to transport the coal down the east coast to London.

Each keel carried a skipper, two crewmen called ‘bullies’ and a boy. ‘Bully’ meant brother or comrade.

The keel row was a huge oar used to propel the boat and was manned by the bullies and the boy. In lieu of a rudder, a ‘swape’ or steering oar at the stern determined the direction of travel. Presumably, the skipper worked this oar.

The life of the keelmen was hard. They had to load the coal, row the heavily laden keel to the collier, navigating the currents and the shifting sandbanks, and unload it. That was made more difficult because the keel lay lower in the water than the collier. In addition, the men were exposed daily to coal dust, often resulting in respiratory problems.

The job was passed from generation to generation, sons taking over from their fathers when they were thought strong enough. Most men were unable to continue working after their forties because of the arduous nature of the labour.

In 1702, the keelmen built the Keelmen’s Hospital in Sandgate, an almshouse for sick and ailing keelmen and their families. It was supported by contributions from each keel’s crew.

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

The mention of Sandgate in the song refers to the fact that the keelmen lived in Sandgate, an impoverished, overcrowded area outside Newcastle city walls.

Cephalopods

 

Cephalopod

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Cephalopods include octopuses, squid, cuttlefish and nautilus. There are over 800 species of these fascinating animals. Octopuses have eight arms. Squid and cuttlefish additionally have two long tentacles which are used for capturing prey, so are usually described as having ten arms. Nautilus has anything from 50 to more than 90 tentacles, but only 42 are visible.

The Quintopus is a rare and colourful member of the Cephalopod family. It has a soft body, covered in a furry substance, and bright blue eyes surrounded with long lashes. Remarkably, the quintopus has only five tentacles, which contain material that rustles when touched.

It is a favourite of Gilbert’s.

The Quintopus, like the octopus, can change colour!

Fouetté

 

Fouetté

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

I woke up with this word on my mind. I have no idea why as I haven’t been watching ballet recently and have never studied it in great depth.

The word comes from the French fouetter, meaning to flog or whip.

A fouetté or ‘fouetté rond de jamb en tournant’, to give it its full name, is a movement in ballet in which the dancer stands on one foot and moves the free leg in a whipping motion in front or behind the body while spinning. It is an extremely difficult move to perfect and takes determination and hours of practice.

Most professional ballet dancers train for about six hours a day for six days of the week and are judged to be among the fittest of all athletes. The nature of their work means that their bones are strengthened as well as their muscles, because dancing is a weight-bearing occupation.  After eight to ten years of training, a professional ballet dancer’s life as a performer does not usually last beyond the age of thirty-five. There are exceptions, of course.

The ballets in which thirty-two fouettés can be seen are Swan Lake, in the pas de deux of the Black Swan, and the wedding pas de deux in Don Quixote.

Summer holidays

 

Summer holidays

The latest postbox topper anticipates sunny days on golden beaches.

We can all dream!

People are looking forward to a change of pace.

 I will soon discover what the  Pumpkin Mice have been doing .

Friday

 

Friday

Friday was graduation day for my third grandson, Louis. He has worked extremely hard for three years to achieve his Physics degree. I don’t know what the future will hold for him, but it has been a privilege to watch him and his older siblings growing up.

It will be several years before my three youngest grandsons have to decide whether they will go to university and what they will study. Who knows what options will be available to them?

Friday also marked the end of term and the end of the academic year in Berkshire. My fourth grandson, Frankie, has finished primary school and must now move on from being a big fish in a little pond to becoming a tiny fish in a markedly larger lake. His cousin, Isla, my eldest great-granddaughter, breaks up on Monday in Dorset, and, like him, will move to a much bigger school in September.

Parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles watch with hope and interest as all these young people move forward to the next phase of their lives.

Flower Festival

 

Flower Festival

The biennial village carnival was last week. The charity chosen to be supported was the RNLI and the theme was ‘Surfing the Seven Seas.’

The week-long activities began with a procession to the local recreation ground and finished with a flower festival in one of the local churches. Various schools, clubs, societies and organisations found innovative ways of interpreting the theme. We went on Monday afternoon, expecting it to be quiet, but it was surprisingly busy.

I have posted a selection of arrangements. The first one shows a surfboard amid rolling ‘waves’ of flowers, as we are encouraged to see. 

I liked the miniature surfer and the flip-flops but the detail that amused me most was the message in a bottle!

The notes for the displays were informative and in some cases imperative in understanding the interpretation.

Explorers were featured. 

 

There were twenty-six displays in all, and all the pillars and  pew ends had been decorated, too. Such a lot of hard work goes into these arrangements. I hope the RNLI received lots of donations.

Royal Golden Guernsey Goats

 

                  Royal Golden Guernsey Goats 

   Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

On 16^th July King Charles granted the Golden Guernsey Goats the ‘Royal’ title. The King and Queen were visiting the Channel Islands, which are Crown Dependencies, like the Isle of Man. Although they are not part of the United Kingdom, ‘the UK is responsible for the defence and international relations of the islands.’ The Channel Islands are among the Crown’s oldest possessions, dating from before the Battle or Hastings in 1066, when they were part of the Duchy of Normandy.

I’m sure the royal visit featured in the broadcast media, but we have been avoiding all news programmes for fear of endless analysis of the failed English bid to secure the UEFA European Cup.

The Royal Golden Guernsey Goat is an exceedingly rare breed of dairy goat, with fewer than 1400 in the world. They are thought to have descended from golden or red coloured goats brought to Guernsey by merchants from the Mediterranean. Their coats range in colour from light blonde to dark bronze and may be long or short or any mixture between. They are known as scrub goats, because they can survive on less productive land and are often used to clear brambles and other unwanted plants.

They have been present in Guernsey for about two hundred years and were nearly lost during the German occupation in the Second World War when most livestock was slaughtered. Miss Miriam Milbourne, who had been breeding them from the 1930s to save them from extinction, managed to hide her small herd from the Germans, risking execution if she had been exposed.

They are docile and affectionate and smaller than other dairy goats. They yield less milk, around four or five pints, but what they give is higher in butter fat and protein, making it ideal for cheese and yoghourt production.

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons   

Best crop

 

Best crop

The promise!

Apricots are my husband’s favourite fruit and years ago, our eldest daughter gave us an apricot tree. Every spring, beautiful blossom appeared and set. Every summer, immature fruits dropped to the ground and the harvest of ripe apricots was between two and three.

Looking promising . . .

This year, when just about every other fruit has failed, apart from raspberries, the apricots have excelled themselves. There were a few early droppers, but we were delighted to be able to pick these.

A very wet spring and early summer and little sun or warmth seem to have suited our apricot tree. It’s not a huge harvest, but it’s so much better than it ever has been.

There were more, but they have been consumed!

 Blowhard

                                            Full of hot air

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

By chance, I happened on a very expressive word the other day – bloviate. The dictionary informs me that it is an informal American verb, meaning 'to talk at length, especially in an inflated or empty way’.

A person who bloviates could be described as a blowhard, a boastful, pompous person who professes vast knowledge and experience, but is soon found to be full of noise and wind. The word comes from the nickname for a sailor in the late 18^th century and probably referred to his occupation as a person often subjected to stormy weather. Its further or additional meaning as a braggart came about in 1840.

A blowhard may be a woman, but the term is more usually applied to a man. Politicians are often described thus, sometimes unjustly.

Blowhards are exceedingly difficult people with whom to converse because they know everything and will never admit that they have made a mistake as they cannot believe they would ever be wrong. They are insensitive and talk over others, and most people soon abandon any attempts at a meaningful dialogue. 

It is doubly difficult, because the blowhard never listens to any voice other than his own, which is usually very loud. It has to be loud because he claims that he likes to perform poetry in pubs or on the tops of mountains, among other things.

 Strangely, although he shouts most of the time, he cannot project his voice. If asked to read a passage in a quiet location, like a library, a museum or a hall, his voice fades away and is barely audible.

 You may have a friend who is a wine connoisseur. The blowhard enthusiastically knows everything your friend knows, and more. Not only is he incapable of listening, but his information is also frequently inaccurate and oft repeated. 

He knows as much history as the most scholarly historian, has journeyed as widely as the best travel-writer, is an intuitive scientist, a would-be explorer, an expert antiquarian and a wonderful architect. He is an expert on all sports on land, in the air or on the sea (and under it). Nothing he hears surprises him because he’s heard it all before. In fact, he was probably born knowing everything.

He has his own way of pronouncing words, which makes them incomprehensible to any listener. So convincing is his mispronunciation, that people begin to think he has used words with which they are unfamiliar and scurry off to try to find out more about them. Perhaps because of this, his writing and spelling are confusing, and his grammar is poor.

The blowhard does little to help at home or in the workplace, but roundly criticises those who do the work for not doing it the way he would have done it, had he found the energy to stand up and get on with it. He is lazy, content to watch and disparage others. 

He likes the ‘good things’ in life and pursues them, even though he cannot afford them, but it is important to him that he is seen to be keeping up with his ‘friends’. He likes to appear at all the major sporting and cultural events of the year. To this end, his ‘social calendar’ is full, though he is never likely to gain admittance to the Royal Enclosure at Ascot or be awarded a VVIP lapel badge. In fact, he would be fortunate to have even a VIP badge. 

The blowhard claims anyone he has ever met to be a friend, or even ‘a great friend.’ Whether people are pleased to be honoured with such friendship is questionable. When someone’s name comes up in conversation, he will say, ‘Oh, yes, I know him/her very well.’ Later, you discover that he has met this person once or twice and did not make a good impression on them.

In short, the blowhard is a tiresome individual, but happy, because he knows he is always right and that his way of doing things, if he ever does them, is the correct and only way. Of course, he talks himself into trouble and works hard to talk himself out again, using all sorts of excuses to extricate himself.

It is never his fault, and he never apologises, for, after all, why should he?

Do you know any blowhards? I’ve met several, even worked with some, and seen many more.

Breeding for temperament

 

Breeding for temperament

                        Jellicoe , Isambard and Herschel as kittens

Those who choose to share their lives with dogs are aware of the importance of breeding for temperament. Selective breeding enhances or encourages certain characteristics, for shepherding, for retrieving, for detection and so on. It is well-established in the dog world and effective and safe if conducted thoughtfully.

I wondered if there were any such programmes for the breeding of pedigree cats. I don’t know of any, but I do know that responsible breeders pay great attention to potential inherited health issues and choose their proposed litters’ parents with great care.

Why are some cats aloof and dislike being stroked, emphasising this by washing obsessively if they are touched? Other cats actively seek out human companionship and welcome new people with loud cries of pleasure.

The simple answer is that kittens become habituated at an early age. If they are treated gently as well as being exposed to the busyness of a home, they will generally be happier and calmer with strangers and their own people.

However, as with all simple answers, it’s not so straightforward. Two cats live in a house near us, a brother and sister. They have the freedom to go outside. The boy sits outside his house and allows all the children going to school to stroke him and talk to him. He even follows the children for a short while before returning to his post. He never strays far from home. His sister prefers to find a quiet spot in a neighbour’s garden and is rarely seen by people outside her family. They have been together all their lives and have had identical experiences and upbringing.

My middle daughter has three house cats. The two Somalis (semi-long-haired Abyssinians) are litter brothers and have never been separated. Lenny loves all people and loudly demands attention from anyone who enters the house. His brother, Solomon, does not seek out the company of anyone other than my daughter. He is happy to observe life and have an occasional petting. Her third cat, Zula, is an enchanting little Abyssinian who has eyes only for Susannah.

 Herschel and Jellicoe are also litter brothers. Their third brother died young and until he left, we didn’t realise he was the dominant cat. Isambard was a quiet, very affectionate cat and always wanted to be with a human – child or adult, he didn’t mind. Jellicoe was happy to sit on a lap now and then, but Herschel was a very private character, keeping himself to himself, tolerating rather than seeking attention. After Isambard’s passing, Herschel really came out of his shell and his character developed. There was never any nastiness between the brothers, but clearly Herschel was over- shadowed. Now he is rarely far from one or other of us. Both he and Jellicoe are very chatty cats, but Jellicoe, who is at least a third smaller than his brother, is the dominant boy.

                                    Isambard, Jellicoe and Herschel

We used to breed Burmese cats, in a small way. Our two queens, mother and daughter, trusted us and allowed us to handle their kittens from birth. The kittens were cuddled and kissed and loved by our children and their friends.

                    Granddaughter Marnie with blue Burmese Pansy

Consequently, they were extremely confident, happy and bomb-proof. Even so, some were more outgoing than others, so nature rather than nurture seemed to be the dominant factor.

Otter boards

 

Otter boards

Otter board or leeboard on sailing boat

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

One of the live webcam sites we enjoy watching features the Kiel Canal. It is 61 miles long and links the North Sea and the Baltic Sea. Using it shortens travelling distance by 290 miles, saving time and storm-prone seas.

Construction of the canal started in 1887 and more than 9,000 workers had been employed by its completion. Kaiser Wilhelm II opened the canal on 20^th June, 1895, as the Kaiser-Wilhelm-Kanal. The name was changed to the current one in 1948.

An average of ninety vessels traverse it daily, carrying freight or oil or passengers. Large container ships and small yachts alike appreciate its convenience.

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

We don’t watch it avidly by the hour, but have it in the background, as an interesting insight into another way of life. Today, Barry spotted a Dutch barge and pointed out the otter board and its use.

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

More commonly known as leeboards, otter boards are used mostly by sailing boats instead of a fixed keel. They allow boats with a shallow draft to navigate shallower waters than would otherwise be possible and do not take up the space inboard that a retractable centreboard does.

Sailing barge with otter board on the Thames at Oxford

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

They were used from the 8^th century in Chinese warships. They ‘held the ships, so that even when wind and wave arise in fury, they are neither driven sideways, nor overturn.’ By the later 16^th century, they were being used in Dutch barges and Thames barges, enabling them to move closer inshore, making the loading and unloading of cargo much easier.

Diagram showing trawl net with otter boards, also known as doors

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

There is another meaning for otter boards. Sometimes known as doors, they are used in fishing boats to keep the net open horizontally as it is trawled through the sea.

How’s your palate?

 

How’s your palate? 

This started as a random and cursory examination of the development of the palate. My not entirely serious inclination was that, far from the palate maturing from childhood into adulthood, the reverse was true. How else could disgusting food become not only tolerable but sought after?

As a child, I hated cabbage and Brussels sprouts among a myriad other foodstuffs. I wouldn’t say I was particularly picky, but I was polite – or cowardly - and would always answer, ‘It’s quite nice’ when pressed for my opinion of some delicacy or other, when what I actually meant was, ‘No, it’s horrible.’

 I disliked sherry in my twenties, and cheese and wine parties held no attraction. 

I began to like them as I grew older and now appreciate many of the things I did not care for when younger. Almost without exception, stronger flavours became more acceptable. Was my palate maturing?

Then I started to question why that should be. Taste develops early. A nine-week-old foetus has already acquired mouth and tongue and its first taste buds. The growing baby is exposed to what its mother consumes through the amniotic fluid and is born with an established sense of taste. Its preference, however, is for the sweetness of its mother’s milk.

People are born with around 9,000 taste buds which mainly cover the tongue, though there are some in the roof of the mouth and the back of the throat. The taste buds transmit messages to the brain. Different areas of the tongue are sensitive to five differing kinds of taste – sweet, sour, salty, bitter and umami. Umami is often characterised as ‘savouriness’ which could be called ‘meaty’, or ‘complex’ or simply ‘delicious.’

An adult has 2,000 to 4,000 taste buds, each of which can regenerate every seven to fourteen days. That sounds most encouraging, but the ability to regenerate diminishes after the age of forty for women, and fifty for men. Existing taste buds start to atrophy and become less sensitive to salty and sweet foods. At the same time, the sense of smell, which is strongest between thirty and sixty, can become less acute, leading to a further sense that food doesn’t taste the way it used to.

It is therefore not surprising that many older people have little or no appetite, for if everything tastes like cardboard, there is no pleasure in eating.

However, this dismal picture does not seem to withstand scrutiny. Chefs, chocolatiers, cheesemakers, tea-tasters, oenophiles are often quite mature and rely on their years of experience to inform their opinions and decisions.

I must go and test my taste buds and see if they’re still working. 😇

Smile, please!

 

Smile, please!

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

‘Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.’ Thich Nhat Hanh

I would amend that sentence slightly to say, ‘another person’s smile can be the source of your joy.’

A small child’s smile or a baby’s first gummy smile cannot fail to make others smile, too.

A smile is ‘a pleased, kind or amused facial expression, typically with the corners of the mouth turned up and the front teeth exposed.’ Smiling releases endorphins, dopamine and serotonin and it’s contagious, possibly even more so than yawning.  (I bet you’re all yawning, now! 😉)

The average woman, if there is such a being, smiles sixty-two times a day but the average man smiles only about eight. I wonder who carried out the research that delivered that tantalising piece of information?

People tend to smile if they have been exposed and are accustomed to it. I remember one three-year-old child who was remarkable because she never smiled. When I met her parents, I understood why, because they didn’t smile either. Normally, when people are introduced, they smile at each other, or, at least, that is my experience.

The little girl learnt to smile!

Smiling defuses tension and indicates a willingness to engage. If the smile on the face of the tiger belies its true nature, at least, for that short time, relaxation is possible.

If smiling is good for us, then surely laughter must be even better. When was the last time you had a good belly laugh and didn’t you feel so much better for it?

The average four-year-old laughs three hundred times a day, but the average forty-year-old only laughs four times a day. Again, who discovered that statistic?  

I know people who rarely smile or laugh and seem to have no sense of humour whatsoever. Others giggle inanely at almost everything – perhaps they’re nervous.

Americans tend to smile the most, followed by Canadians. Australians are near the top of the list for the most smiling people. I imagine UK is quite low down, but not as far down as Russia, Poland and Romania.

At least, that was what I understood until I looked at the 2024 indicator of smiley countries. The first one on that index is Finland, followed by Denmark, Iceland and Sweden. Australia is tenth and USA is nowhere.

It’s all nonsense, of course, much like the weather forecasts and horoscopes. Keep looking until you find a calculation that suits you! 😊

Burke and Hare

 

Burke and Hare

 William Hare and William Burke

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Human dissection was practised in Greece and Egypt until around 280 B.C., but then fell out of favour for hundreds of years until Leonardo da Vinci awakened interest in the early 16^th century, with his anatomical drawings. As more people studied medicine, the demand for more cadavers increased, but relatives wanted their loved ones to be buried, rather than cut up. The answer was to use the bodies of felons not considered worthy of Christian burial.

To this end, a law was passed in 1505 giving the Incorporation of Surgeons and Barbers in Edinburgh the body of one executed criminal a year. Thirty-five years later, a similar law allowed the Companies of Barbers and Surgeons in London four executed criminals per year.

This allowance was insufficient for the growing medical schools, so in Great Britain in 1751, the Murder Act was passed. A person found guilty of murder was to be executed two days after sentencing, unless that day was a Sunday, in which case the execution would be deferred to the following Monday. It stated that the body of a murderer was not to be buried, but rather hanged in chains or else subjected to public dissection. It said, ‘in no case whatsoever the body of any murderer shall be suffered to be buried; unless after such body shall have been dissected and anatomised.’ The aim of the Act was ‘for better preventing the horrid crime of murder.’

Even so, the number of cadavers was insufficient for ongoing research. In Scotland, numbers were low, though there were more crimes than murder that carried the death sentence. In England and Wales, two hundred crimes were punishable by death but a further act, in 1823, removed mandatory death sentences from a long list of crimes and the requirement for more bodies to dissect was ever growing. Medical schools were willing to pay for fresh supplies.

Thus, some enterprising people began exhuming recently buried corpses. Cadavers were not regarded as property so grave robbers were free from the threat of prosecution for theft and were able to sell their spoils to private doctors and medical establishments. The grave robbers became known, ghoulishly, as Resurrection men.

 Graveyard watchtower, Eckford Parish Church, Roxburghshire
Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Mortsafes in Logierait Kirkyard, Perth and Kinross
Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Families concerned for the safekeeping of their relatives’ remains watched over their graves, erecting watch towers in graveyards, or building a mortsafe of iron over the grave. After six weeks or so, the mortsafe might be removed, as the corpse beneath was no longer of any value for dissection.

Some men went further and were seduced into what was called ‘anatomy murder.’ Fresher bodies commanded higher prices and in Edinburgh, from 1827 to 1828, two Irishmen, William Burke and William Hare, murdered sixteen people and sold their bodies to the anatomist Robert Knox for use in his lectures.

They perfected a method of suffocation which left no damage or marks on the body. They enticed poor and needy citizens to their lodgings and dispatched them quickly, selling them for £7 to £10 each, the equivalent of £953 to £1360 in 2024.

Eventually, greed overwhelmed them, and they became careless, arousing much suspicion when they killed a well-known resident called ‘Daft Jamie,’ an 18-year-old street beggar. Students at Knox’s lecture recognised the body – Jamie had a deformed foot – but Knox quickly removed it and the boy’s head. He escaped conviction for complicity in the murders by pleading ignorance, but it was clear to the general populace that he had full knowledge that the bodies he bought had been murdered by Burke and Hare. His reputation suffered and he removed to London, where he had a medical practice in Hackney.

On Christmas Eve, 1828, Burke and Hare went on trial for the murder of Jamie Wilson. Burke was found guilty and condemned to death by hanging. Hare turned King’s evidence and was released and nothing more is known of him. Burke was hanged in public in Edinburgh on  28th January. 1829 and his body was used for dissection. His skeleton is on display in the Anatomy Museum, University of Edinburgh.

Edinburgh was a leader in anatomical study in Europe in the early 19^th century. Apart from murderers, the only other bodies permitted for dissection were from those who had died in prison, had committed suicide or were orphans.

The Murder Act of 1751 was repealed in 1828. The 1832Anatomy Act ended the practice of supplying bodies of executed murderers for dissection and authorised the use of cadavers from the workhouses which remained unclaimed after 48 hours.

In modern times, people may indicate that they wish to donate their bodies for medical research.