This morning at 6:49 am in Piedmont, California, things got a little quakey.
Earthquakes are a fact of
life in many parts of the world, and England is no exception.
Tudor England experienced
them as well:
“A grett (great) wondernus of herth and
specially in Darkyng and dyvers plasys (places) pots, pans and dyssys donst and
mett (dishes danced) and (hung) meat felle doune about howse and with mony odur
thyngs.”
(Translation of a report of an earthquake in Croydon.)
Earthquakes haven’t changed that much
in the damage they inflict on homes.
To say that “pots, pans and dishes
danced” sounds a whimsical turn of phrase to twenty-first century ears.
In Tudor England in the sixteenth
century, there was less experience with earthquakes and when one occurred, it
was an event. To describe pots, pans and dishes as having ‘donst’ (danced) was
fairly pragmatic and easily-understood; after all, there’s only one way to
picture dishes dancing – jittering about on the cupboard or shelves upon which
they were kept.
The ‘foul air’ released by earthquakes
was blamed for plague – and that theory continues amongst some even in the
twenty-first century.
In Tudor times, when the odd ‘Act of
God’ had no known science to objectify the event as an anomaly, or a series of
anomalies, blaming the air released by an earthquake prior to a plague of the
sweating sickness made sense of the horror.
There are lots of fault
lines under England and Scotland, and as the planet continues to evolve and
plate tectonic shifts occur, earthquakes are as much a reality there as they
are here in northern California.
Chimneys still tumble.
The ground either shakes or rolls,
depending on the type of earthquake (“shaker” or “roller” – when the earth
either trembles or rolls in waves, visible waves if the quake is strong
enough.)
People still pause at the thought that humans most
assuredly do not control the earth upon which they walk.
Tudor times or present day, earthquakes
have the ability to scare just about everyone who’s experienced feeling the
earth move.
It’s the human in us; then, our
scientific brain kicks in and tells us to expect the adrenalin rush that
follows in short order.
After that, like the residents of Tudor England, it’s
time to sweep up the broken crockery, separate the useable bricks from the
broken ones that made up the toppled chimney, and thank God that it wasn’t
worse.
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