On October 21st, 1765 in London, a most unusual event did occur. It seemed the mighty River Thames, which winds its way through the heart of the city, had risen quite out of season and breached its banks in an unseemly manner. By morning, the esteemed Houses of Parliament found themselves wading in shin-deep waters, with only the tops of Big Ben's clock faces visible. Members hastily convened an emergency session, though were forced to hitch up their trousers and abandon all dignity just to attend.
Debate ran the gamut from blaming witches to worrying over damaged libraries, but the odd matter remained: why on this day, of all days, did the Thames see fit to wet its britches without cause? Meanwhile, a certain Mr. Barnes, notorious prankster and joker, was spotted down by the banks, looking rather damp and pleased with himself. When questioned, he claimed only to have "loosened a levee for the larks." Whether by occult meddling or mirthful mischief remains unknown, but one thing was clear - for London politicians on October 21st, 1765, soggy shoes were their lot that morn'. The Thames had once again, it seems, flowed beyond wise reason or rule.