PR involves pitching stories to the media although, inevitably, some
stories are better than others. However,
much better to make sensible use of the material you have, rather than turn it
into cock and bull.
It’s what 18th and 19th century coach travellers did,
so the story goes, when they stopped at a town called Stony Stratford, north of
London.
Travellers would refresh themselves in one of the town’s two main
coaching inns, The Cock or The Bull, where fanciful tales and so-called news
would become hopelessly embellished. The
two establishments still exist.
The town’s website says that “the High Street still contains a wealth of coaching inns that thrived
in this period, including The Cock and The Bull; in these inns travellers vied
with each other in the telling of outrageous stories…”
The story may or may not be true, but it’s
an interesting angle on how – in the wrong hands – a perfectly good story can,
through spin and exaggeration, devalue both the message and the messenger.
At the other end of the scale is the
story so subtly told that its significance is hidden. That’s best exemplified in our much-loved
nursery rhymes, written in a bygone age when any kind of careless gossip could
swiftly lead to the gallows. Back then, subtle
PR was a life-saver.
Take, for example, this innocuous rhyme:
Mary Mary quite
contrary
How does your
garden grow?
With silver bells
and cockle shells
And pretty maids
all in a row.
It’s actually about the 16th
century Queen Mary of England whose
brutal persecution of Protestants earned her the nickname of “Bloody Mary.” The garden is the cemeteries she filled with
her victims; silver bells and cockleshells are slang for torture implements,
and the maiden was a form of guillotine.
Three blind mice, three blind mice,
See how they run. See how they
run.
They all ran after the farmer’s wife,
Who cut off their tails with a carving knife.
Did you ever see such a sight in your life?
As three blind mice.
This refers to three Protestant bishops
who were convicted of treason and burned at the stake - but not before,
reputedly, being blinded and dismembered.
Equally loved is this:
Jack and Jill went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water.
Jack fell down
And broke his crown,
And Jill came tumbling after.
Jack and Jill are King Louis XVI and Queen Marie Antionette. They both lost their crowns (and their heads)
in the French revolution of 1793-94.
The derivation of this rhyme is more
widely known:
Ring-a-ring o’ roses
A pocket full of posies
A-tishoo! A-tishoo!
We all fall down.
In the USA, the third line is often
reproduced as Ashes! Ashes!
It’s actually about bubonic plague in the 17th century, with
one of the first symptoms being a rosy rash.
For protection, people would carry sweet-smelling herbs with them.
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again.
No, it’s not about a giant egg. It’s actually a large cannon that was sited
on a tower during the English
Civil War.
The tower was hit by cannon fire, and the tower and Humpty fell down.
Other rhymes are more complex:
Old Mother Hubbard
Went to the cupboard
To give the poor dog a bone
When she came there
The cupboard was bare
And so the poor dog had none
These are the lyrics that were published
in 1805, although the rhyme is much older.
One explanation is that it goes back to Henry VIII, with the King wanting a divorce from Catherine of Aragon so he could marry Anne Boleyn. The “dog and bone” refer to the divorce, the
cupboard is the Catholic Church and Cardinal Wolsey, the highest Papal
representative, is Old Mother Hubbard.
One rhyme stands out for being utterly
salacious:
Georgie Porgie
Pudding and pie
Kissed the girls and made them cry
When the boys came out to play
Georgie Porgie ran away.
Goosey goosey gander,
Whither shall I wander?
Upstairs and downstairs
And in my lady's chamber.
There I met an old man
Who wouldn't say his prayers,
So I took him by his left leg
And threw him down the stairs.
Whither shall I wander?
Upstairs and downstairs
And in my lady's chamber.
There I met an old man
Who wouldn't say his prayers,
So I took him by his left leg
And threw him down the stairs.
The derivation of this is less clear, but is probably
anti-Catholic propaganda. Catholic
prayers were said in Latin; Protestant prayers in English. There again, "goose bumps" was 16th
slang for the symptoms of venereal disease – and being "bitten by a
Winchester goose" was slang for how you caught it. The “Winchester geese” in question were south
London prostitutes.
Lastly, this:
Ladybird, ladybird,
fly away home
Your house is on
fire
And your children
are gone.
The ladybird was regarded with affection by farmers as it
ate aphids, and it’s thought that this rhyme may be about encouraging the bugs
to fly off before the farmers burned stubble in their fields. However, it may not be that simple. Another possible derivation is that the rhyme
was a warning to Catholics who wouldn’t attend Protestant services.
Nowadays, in an age of free speech, we can write what we
want and make the meaning clear. But we
shouldn’t forget that the right of free speech has been hard won and that, in past
times, it could get you into all sorts of trouble.
In PR terms, it was therefore better to invent a nursery
rhyme than a cock and bull story. Nowadays,
neither end of the PR spectrum is much good!
Charlie Laidlaw is
a director of David Gray PR and a partner in Laidlaw Westmacott. We are
specialists in national and international PR strategy and delivery. You can contact us at +44 (0) 1620 844736 or Charlie@davidgraypr.com or connect with us on LinkedIn or Facebook.
No comments:
Post a Comment