Henry VIII is presenting the Barber-Surgeons’ Company Charter to their first Master, Thomas Vicary, superintendent of St Bartholomew’s Hospital and royal physician.
“The Fellowship of Surgeons had merged with the Barbers’ Company in 1540 by Act of Parliament to form the Company of Barbers and Surgeons. The Act specified that no surgeon could cut hair or shave another and that no barber could practice surgery; the only common activity was to be the extraction of teeth. The barber pole, featuring red and white spiraling stripes, indicated the two crafts (surgery in red and barbering in white). Barbers received higher pay than surgeons until surgeons were entered into British warships during naval wars.” Wikipedia.
In the 18th century the surgeons broke away to form what is now The Royal College of Surgeons and the rump is The Worshipful Company of Barbers. It is the 17th oldest livery company and has its own hall which, confusingly, it continues to call Barber Surgeons’ Hall. These days Barbers do not like to be called hairdressers. The Company is a charitable institution which supports medical and surgical causes; indeed many members are doctors, dentists and other medical practitioners.
Interesting that barbers were paid more than surgeons but don’t laugh. A modern anomaly is that Bertie’s vet in a side street in west London costs more than my private dentist in the City. Furthermore the dentist offers The Times, The Financial Times, Private Eye and society magazines. There is nothing for Bertie and I to read. On the other hand a twenty minute haircut by Sadiq at Geo F Trumper costs £38. If you are a country mouse this may seem dear but I used to pay £45 at Truefitt and Hill, although I had the frisson of being just one snip away from royalty; my barber cut Prince Philip’s locks.
The relevance of today’s post is that I had luncheon on Thursday at the Barber Surgeons’ Hall beneath the portrait of Henry VIII. The hall has had mixed fortunes. Inigo Jones built it in 1604 and some of it survived the Fire of London, largely because its herb garden acted as a fire break. In October 1940 it had the dubious honour of being the first building in London to be hit by a German bomb. However, in the Great Raid in December 1940 it was destroyed and only rebuilt in the 1960s. Before lunch we had drinks on a terrace overlooking the somewhat diminished herb garden and remains of London’s wall built by the Romans.
Henry VIII, you will recall, was succeeded by his son, by Queen Jane (Seymour), Edward VI. As the king was nine years old when he was crowned in 1547, his mother’s brother was appointed Lord Protector, a function he carried out for two years. So I was rather pleased that one of my guests on Thursday is a descendent of the Lord Protector.
You cannot escape history in London. Yesterday I was at a wedding in the church where Henry VIII married Jane, It too was destroyed in WW II and has been rebuilt.