Woolpack Inn

This fine old building is the Woolpack Inn, Bocking.  Or at least it was in times past.  Today it is divided into three 'cottages,' the far one selling for just under £300,000 if you are interested.  The two outer buildings have dates of 1590 carved into them, the old Woolpack is dated around 1660,  There are of course many 'Woolpack Inns' around these parts.  Wool was England's greatest export for many years and until recently the Lord Chancellor sat on the 'Woolsack' in the House of Lords, this to represent England's wealth!  Today the speaker sits on a pouf!  Very apt!  Not sure what the carvings are supposed to represent but there are many in this long road.  An attractive road apart from the constant traffic that thunders down here throughout the day and night. The houses are very old and attract the 'best' type of resident, I do not live here. A man named Savill bought the pub in 1779 and his family were still running the place in 1841, it appears to have closed shortly after this as old photographs show the buildings as housing.  There were many more public houses in the past, partly because of the poor water, partly as eating places, and partly because the English are drunks I tell you!  1590 to 1660 concerns Raleigh, Shakespeare, Marlowe and Elizabeth as Queen.  James VI & I became King of two nations and he called it 'Great Britain' for the first time. We have the gunpowder plot, English settlers at Jamestown, plague, fire and war.  We can speculate as to how the residents of this area dealt with those occurrences but I wonder if the needs of the moment meant more to them than national events?  News spread very fast, although slower when  there was no 'Twitter' service, and people in small villages and towns would have been aware of much outside their own area.  Most surely would not have wandered that far from home unless war called, wouldn't they?  I wonder?  The house has recently been sold, if next door cost £300,000 then this would be more, I didn't make an offer.


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A brief history of England.

Stonehenge in between rain storms 

Around 10,000 BC the ice that had covered the Northern Hemisphere began to recede.  This reached as far south as parts of Essex and stopped in London at the Finchley Road Tube Station, trains to Wembley Park and Amersham were delayed by this. Within a thousand years or so people were using Salisbury Plain as a meeting place, possibly for worship.  It could be they originated in what is now Europe proper, the North Sea had yet to flow south and separate the British Isles from the rest of the land mass. This finally occurred around 6500 BC and many men moved their families onto the new island, while just as many sent them the other way to France to give themselves some peace. Here the few, no, not that 'Few,' settled down to clear the trees, plant crops, and watch football.  They were taught this game by the Scots who had come south to play the tourist, having lived in igloos during the ice age. Sadly it was as yet unavailable on television, this meant actually watching the game live, in the rain. When the early English refused to give the Jocks their ball back they went home, and a state of enmity has remained between the peace loving Scots and the Imperialist English. Within a short thousand years or two settlements were established, standing stones were standing, wars were being fought, this being the English predilection, Flint mines were sprouting downwards and Stonehenge was built.  This as we know was never completed as the roof was never put on.  The English habit of imperialism is seen here, the blue stone used was nicked from Wales when the locals were not looking! 


With the Atlantic Ocean to the west the land suffered from rain quite severely.  This, plus the fact that more populated areas had never heard of it, meant the isles were ignored for the most part although traffic across the sea to Europe for trade, wine, pottery, women, and sickly French cheese, did occur.  In Marseilles a man named Pytheas referred to the Pretanic Isles. Whether he did this on parchment or just scribbled this on a toilet wall is not stated, but mention it he did. Nobody paid any attention bar Belgians who trekked across to Essex where they heard there were jobs available picking and packing frozen peas. This did not please the locals who began to write to the 'Daily Mail' demanding to know why so many foreign Johnnies were coming over here to 'take our jobs and live off the dole?'  They fought back this way and by moving out  and stealing land from those who lived in the wilder west.  This plan was so successful that some time later it was copied in the Americas.


Having once more settled down to peaceful cattle rustling and women stealing the tribes were somewhat surprised and a bit cheesed off when a small balding bloke from Rome turned up and attempted to invade them. (55-45 BC) Having nothing to prove but his desire to be emperor Julius Caesar did eventually get himself ashore, kill an army or two, and fled back to Gaul and the warmer climate.  His only reason to invade was 'because it was there,' and his expedition became a wash out.  This was to be expected as most things get washed out in the British Isles by the rain.  Romes desire to win Britannica was such that at Rome senators were heard to say "Where?" and "What's in it for me?"


The Celts living in Colchester continued on their happy warpath not noticing the European influence.  The young rich who became influenced by the Romans in Gaul, the wine, the togas, being educated all brought "tut tut's" from the older generation who despised people who could read, an English habit today judging by the spelling in the newspapers.  This gradual seeping of Roman influence led to Aulus Plautius invading in 43 AD under orders from Claudius to win him a 'Triumph.'  A previous invasion under Emperor Caligula faded out on the Gaul shoreline when the Emperor ordered his men to collect those nice shell found on the beaches.  The Roman soldiers thoughts on this were not recorded.  Vespasian, an up and coming general brings Civilisation to the south of England by sticking swords into anyone he meets. He became Emperor himself using similar tactics in 66 AD.  Oh you will have noticed the BC has gone and the AD has come.  This did not matter at the time as Englishmen did not use calendars in those days, in fact their watches didn't have a little date that was always three days behind either.  While Boudica decided to get peeved at a slight by a Roman general, he raped her daughters and took all she belonged after her husband, the chief, had died, some would  say burning Londinium (London) and Camulodunum (Colchester) to the ground while everybody was still inside possibly a bit of an over reaction.  However girls will be girls.  Naturally the Romans had ways of responding to this, they came and stuck sword into everybody for miles around.  More 'Civilisation' you see.


The English were often quite happy to let these foreigners take over and those who attempted to resist soon became civilised. Sometimes by the sword, sometimes by being flayed alive, sometimes by being forced to eat spaghetti with a fork.  However when the Romans got to Scotland they were told where to get off. Those that did get off found themselves floating back down the sea lanes.  Crying "Woad unto ye," the peace lovers up north put aside their books and studies, used their mighty wisdom and knowledge of the terrain, allowed the Romans to march north and get stuck in snow drifts until they got fed up with it all they built a wall and stayed away.  Every so often, when the football season was over, the Scots would come to the wall and throw dead Haggis at the Mediterranean types shivering on the walls.  Some still do this today to the tourists backpacking along the wall in the rain.


All good things must come to an end and as Alaric the Rangers fan invaded Rome the Mediterranean types took their good looks, their wine, their opera singing and their slow, fouling type of football and went home to defend their city.  They were too late so they could have stayed here had the locals not charged them so much for rent!  By the year 500 AD all was changed, but that's for another day.

Trimontium Trust

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Rotten Week

It's been a rotten week so far. The bug has taken what little energy and the even smaller amount of sense that I had and gave me that drained feeling. I was supposed to call a place re a job but what with lack off oomph and the fact that I am not fit enough to work 40 hours again has combined to make me feel lousy. It is amazing how quickly fitness leaves and how hard it is to recover. Wednesday saw me determined to develop stamina again by walking. Two long walks in the cold wind, followed  by another yesterday and amazingly I even got the bike out for a while! However all I have are blisters on the feet and aches everywhere else. Since the snow started I have not been able to get the bike out. Follow that with the bug that never leaves and I have done so little exercise it is only the blubber in front of me that stops me blowing away in the wind! At the back of my head a voice is calling, "Get of your backside and DO something you fat slob!" I am glad it is being subtle! However nothing appears to arrive. The job market for an lazy good for nothing unskilled male almost at 60 is quite small these days. Honestly I have used my whole intellect in this fruitless search and....hold on, I think that may be part of the problem! What now? I just don't know and am quite fed up with this directionless life.

This decrepit looking building dates back into the mists of time. They say it was around in the 14th century, probably the last time it saw a lick of paint, and now serves as a small, character filled (which means what I ask?) hotel. Once a large manor house, and now almost unnoticed at the end of the High Street, it is only around the back does the true age of the building show. How often it has been rebuilt or renovated I could not say however it does seem sad that such a character is hidden away from general view and espied (lovely word) merely from the back end of the multi story car park. Several building round here are like this. The front may be Georgian but round the back a more Medieval side can be glimpsed. Chimneys, roofs and 'Gants,' passageways between buildings, reveal the Netherlands influence from the days of the weavers a few hundred years ago. Pairs of cottages renovated into one expensive house show traces of the farm labourers of yesterday, the occasional 'Big Hoose' reveals just how much money could be made from weaving!  Streets built by speculative builders working together spread out from the centre of town. 

In the 19th century a joiner say, alongside a  bricklayer and possibly a plumber, would join together and buy three plots of land in a newly laid out street. Together they would erect three houses, without architects help, and each would sell one and put the profit to his family and then buying more land to repeat the process. By this method much of England's housing stock was built. The 'Feu duty' in Scotland hindered this approach and anyone building went upwards, hence so many tenements. The Scots are much more egalitarian than the stand offish English and such dwellings grew out of the old 'Closes' and 'Stairs' of past times. Naturally the lower down the social order the worse the building, but that happens everywhere, and still does! The Victorians were not ones to dwell on the past. Buildings that stood in the way of progress were demolished. Just look for Berwick Castle and be disappointed. Robert Stephenson tore it down to build his railway station, and used the stones in doing so! Only the 'keep' of Newcastle itself was 'kept!' The train just misses this as it passes by.  Without listing orders on buildings, often a pain to some, many buildings today would be lost to our heritage. It is not possible to keep all old buildings but so many are worth noting that care is required. After all if every 'old thing' was to be replaced what would become of us?

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The Past

I read today that the man who shot Pope John Paul II in 1981 was being released from jail after serving 29 years inside. This in itself is not something that I bring to your attention it is the thought that for many today this act means nothing. The assassination attempt, (it is always an 'assassination if the target is famous and just a 'killing' if it is one of us ordinary folks you notice) happened before half the world was born! The majority I suspect in this world are under twenty five, (do you remember that experience?) and this event is from a bygone age.

Consider what events before your birth meant to you and how they affected your outlook. For me the biggest event was the second world war, you may have read about it somewhere, possibly a copy of the 'Sun' you found in a toilet at work, and I developed a 'view' on this that possibly still has an affect on me.  How do you view the recent past that means so much to those old folks, your parents and friends, who talk about it so eagerly? It is a bit like talking about a dream, it happened but is vacuous. Only the experiences that we pass through have meaning for us. To a younger generation an event, earth shattering for some, that happened in 1981 could just as well have happened in the days of the Vikings. The recent past, and 29 years is recent to me (and to you, admit it) but to an adolescent near you it could be ancient history! Twenty nine years before I was born takes me back to 1932 and in my mind that is the distant past, made so possibly because the war acts as a buffer pushing events before it into another world. 1932, as you know, was the year Jayne Mansfield was born, my dad returned from army service in India, Laurel & Hardy made 'The Music Box,' the film in which they transport a piano up some stairs, and  Adolf Hitler obtains German citizenship by naturalization, however those events appeared to my mind to come from another world, a world before time began.     

When my (much older) brother and sister began to bring home rock and roll records, (Little Richard I loved you) and played them on the gramophone in the corner my mind considered the music of the thirties to be dull and old fashioned. When young ex-workmates sang along to Celine Dion's meaningless outpourings some had the lack of musical understanding to complain 'The Beatles' were 'old fashioned!' Naturally I shot them. This explains why they are ex- workmates. The view of the world of those around us is to my mind made even more strange when you consider that those voting for the first time this year were born two years after Margaret Thatcher was removed (Praise the Lord) from power! These folks have no concept of those dreadful eighties. And what was worse, the politics or the music I ask you? Either way these young folks today have no respect for their elders and betters, er .......did we?

Old Newspapers

Historic Newspapers

Probing around through the dust I came across an old 'Daily Telegraph' newspaper and an even older copy of 'The Times' given to me on one of my birthdays. I suspect they came via the 'Historic Newspapers' company, or at least one very like them. Fascinating stuff these old papers. You can find out what is in the news on the day you were born, or if the date has no significance for you the news is often interesting in it's own right. Naturally the obvious thing is the fact that news never changes. While the layout becomes more colourful, the style follows fashion and the terminology attempts to speak the language the readers desire, news itself never varies. Shock or sentiment is the main ingredient. Horror, war, trouble and strife, scandal and exposing the famous sell papers. That never changes.

In 1951 the Korean War filled the headlines, truce talks being uppermost. Iran was upsetting the British by having the temerity to take over their oilfields. Ptah, how dare they! Don't worry, we soon sorted them out, and they are the Yanks problem now. Energy was in the headlines as there were fears of a coal shortage by winter. A simple statement, but it conjures up images of the whole of the UK living under a permanent cloud of smoke from one end to the other. Today we fail to realise how mucky the nation had become because of pollution. When I grew up in Edinburgh all the building were blackened by years of smoke, 'Auld Reekie' indeed! However the whole nation suffered this way. It caused smogs in many places, smoke was brought down by rain and got into the lungs increasing bronchitis and cancers, ruined women's washing even on a clear summers day, and saw the 1970's given over to high pressure hoses, at great cost and nuisance, used to scrub clean Edinburgh's buildings.

In amongst the world news come the usual, yet equally important tales of 16 year old lassies being swept out to sea in a boat, and brought home late at night, an MP upset at not being invited to meet a Princess because he was a Socialist, a DC-6 plane crashing in the States, a not uncommon event at the time, and of course the cricket, and even worse, the dreaded tennis results! However this summer paper did offer fur coats for a mere 10 gns, though you could pay more if you liked. The 'Guinea' was an absurd amount of £1 1/-, One pound and one shilling, used for many years for selling racehorses long after it had gone out of fashion elsewhere. Fur coats also have disappeared, and also the Fox stoles (2 gns) that were once so common. How do they keep warm today I wonder? In 1951 they could buy a 'Gamages' electric blanket for 69/6d or an electric massage vibrator for a mere 52/6d, a bargain I would say.

Fascinating, but in the end the world of the past is just the same as the world today, as human nature does not change so the world it affects will not change. A brief look through history shows that it was ever thus.

History Tour

It struck me quite forcibly yesterday that the areas we drive through, and sometimes across, have a long and indeed wealthy history. For instance we started by heading for Sudbury, after failing to complete parallel parking and reversing round a corner to any one's satisfaction, especially that ginger cats! With the sun shining, the sky blue, the engine swearing every time I chose the wrong gear we headed through the country roads populated only by retired gentlemen and white van drivers. Sudbury reflects the vast wealth that once made this area one of the most influential in England. The wealth came from wool! Whereas we tend to think of sheep, those white fluffy farm animals, as creatures who inhabit Scottish mountains and the English lake district, there was a time when this are was covered in them.

Before the sheep however there was Sudbury. It is on record as being mentioned as long ago as the year 799 when the bishop Aelfhun died there. Maybe he didn't like it? Edward III, one of those despotic English kings knew a thing or two about money and in the thirteen hundreds he imported a lot of Fleming's to weave the wool and develop trade. (That's Fleming's in folk from what is now Holland/Belgium, not some sort of rat like furry animal by the way) Wool's importance is shown in that the original 'woolsack,' sat upon by the Lord Speaker in the House of Lords contained Sudbury wool. Not a lot of people know that! Few care. Careering through the narrow crowded market with a thousand other vehicles takes the driver, who has no time to look, past portrait painter Thomas Gainsborough's house. I knocked once but he did not answer. He is of course famous for his portraits and it is said that when Mr & Mrs Andrews wanted their portrait painted he actually desired to paint a landscape. So he just stuck them to one side and filled the picture with their estate. Now a small market town bereft of sheep it remains in many American memories as RAF Sudbury was home to 834th Squadron (H), 486th Bomb Group (H), 8th Air Force during the second world war. Like the RAF the Yanks lost around 50,000 bomber crew during this conflict!

Swearing through the winding country route chosen for me, changing gear with every hill and speed limit that changed themselves within yards of one another I thought, we eventually dawdled through Long Melford at 29 miles an hour. Slow enough to avoid the dumper truck being unloaded in the town centre. Long Melford is a very long, and very wealthy, village that has stretched its way along this Roman road since even before the Romans decided to tread it. Made wealthy by the wool found in abundance here a thousand years ago the village boast two great manor houses, with their red brick walls very noticeable, and a huge fifteenth century church. You could not pull the wool over Suffolk folks heads in the old days. This area has been home to the ancient Britons, Angles, Saxons, Danes, Romanised Britons and the mongrel mob that now refers to itself as 'English.' Several thousand years of continual existence. From a forest covered land, through the middle ages and the sheep which brought wealth, nobles and abbots fighting for political power, the plague and the following 'Peasants Revolt' all passed through here, leaving a rich history and, in Suffolk, lots of cash still and that in spite of the credit crunch!

Free from manoeuvres I sped down the road back home, until we passed the 'community hall' car park. Forced by the evil instructor in there we practised reversing into a bay and bouncing of the pavement. I made out the word "Fail" escaping from his clenched teeth but was not to sure about the others. One more attempt on Friday, another on Monday and then the Test itself on Wednesday. Bishops Stortford does not know what it has let itself in for.

Victory V

I handed a spool into the chemist to have it developed today and saw these sweets on the counter. I have not seen these around for years and here they were in probably the only shop to stock them these days.

As a kid we were given these occasionally and suffered the heat they gave off with good grace and much noise! I found today that they were not anything like as strong as I remember and I wonder if that is just because I am somewhat larger today or if they have altered the recipe in some way.

It would not be the first time an alteration has taken place, in the nineteenth century the sweets contained chloroform! It was not possible to buy more than a quarter pound of them because people took too many and passed out! While this is no longer the case many folks found them far too strong for their taste and only 'real men' ever ate more than one at a time. Of course they suffered and folks kept well away from their breath for good reason!

They are widely available online from The Sugar Boy and elsewhere.

Adverts

While wondering what illegal drug some young flash Harry in the advertising office had been shoving up his nose I watched his latest car ad on the telly. Car ads, as you know, tell you nothing about the car, but lots about the small willy possessed by the man who is looking to buy! The car is hoisted on balloons, or melts like mercury across the screen, maybe it drives across the Nevada desert and is driven by handsome (white) well heeled males who are going places. Soon hopefully! The cretin, pushing his baseball cap to the back of his head and tossing a banana peel out the window, has watched those ads and now while trudging along in the fog at six miles an hour, alongside the many similar oiks, dreams he is in Nevada somewhere. The advert has satisfied his mind and taken from him all reality.

It was ever thus! Adverts are not there to tell the truth, they of course only want to sell! This Guinness one certainly did, the slogan supposedly coming from a man who answered the question,"Why do you drink it?" With the answer "Because it is good for me." His wife, seeing him carried home and dumped in the front garden, had other ideas I bet, especially when his liver gave out and he passed on leaving her "£7.10 shillings in insurance money. (If that happened of course....) In recent years the ad was dropped because the law was tightened up, and not before time, to end much of the deceit practised on us by advertisers. There being no proof that Guinness actually is 'Good for you,' the slogan was dropped. A shame as no-one really believed that anyway. Well apart form several million Irish drunks of course. Today Guinness ads make no sense whatsoever as they strive to replace the old generation of drinkers with a new younger set more used to the feeble lager and invented alcohol products designed by Mammon loving brewers and sought after by dunderheads.

I like the old poster adverts, they always appear to me to be better drawn and more enticing, even if I remain unconvinced about spending my coppers on the product offered. We think we are not motivated by them yet, years later, we remember the slogans or tunes that accompany telly adverts, and the posters remain deep within our memory.

"You'll wonder where the yellow went,
when you brush your teeth with 'Pepsodent."

I often wondered where 'Pepsodent' went myself. Nobody as ever told me. The sound has remained with me, and we did buy the stuff when I was still finding difficulty in beginning the joined up writing at school. Mind you I was 34 by then.

The change in the law, I think I am right in saying it was the '196o Trades Description Act,' but I am willing to be proved wrong stopped many a false advert from ripping of the gullible. One trick was to advertise "Cup Final Seats," in the classifieds, and folk would send of their ten shillings expecting a ticket for the Cup Final, a great day out for the Englishman in the fifties. They would be somewhat nonplussed to receive a small stool with "Cup Final," written on it. But it was a 'Cup Final Seat'! For a year or two I worked (Ha!) for the Advertising Standards Authority, an organisation that to some extent reduces the misleading nature of many adverts but is in truth is a waste of space. Complaints arrive once the ads have appeared, and by the time an adjudication is arrived at the ad has run its course, profits have been made and a mere warning is issued. In theory individuals can be barred from placing adverts but the organisation does not go to court to fight such people, leaving that up to the Trading Standards folk, so it is in many respects useless! Most of the girls were nice mind you, young, attractive and intelligent, just how I like them! However, possibly a point connected to their intelligence, they did not like me as I am! How insensitive of them I say. I do dislike it when young lassies refer to me as 'Dad' or 'Uncle!'

Three Men in a Boat

This slim little volume, published in 1889, has become an eternal favourite. No wonder! The gentle humour, the descriptions of the river and the history that lies all around it, the impression of middle class leisure and incidental attitudes of the day combine with our identification of the people that pass by. They could be ourselves! Jerome K Jerome writes not about class, and does not spend much time on the major social ills of the day directly, instead he writes about the trip and the people that come to his mind. That gives us an echo of the world of the day.

Jerome is a kindly human, his humour is gentle and boating down the Thames was an occupation many enjoyed. Therefore the early editions must have found many a man identifying with the situations retold here. How many had struggled to erect the canvas, how many found difficulty with the passing steamboats, and then found the skiffs troublesome when they were using such boats? The author actually wanted to write a topographical book concerning the Thames I have been informed, and ended up with a classic instead! He does give information on the world around and his meditations reveal a thoughtful and intelligent man.

For those who wish a light comic trip down the Thames this is a must. Many have, like myself, ached to travel up the Thames in the sun, stopping on the bank to camp, and several TV programmes and the odd film or two have been made by those inspired this way. Just how many books I cannot say. However there is a website dedicated to the author and I recommend a browse for more info, and even pictures of the three hero's of the trip that inspired the book themselves. The Jerome K Jerome Society

Healthy Eating

I am all for healthy eating! Being, what my doctor described as a "Fat slob," I understand the need for care in the diet. However this word crossed my path a short time ago, 'Tunnocks Caramel Log!' Immediately I was transported back to my youth a few short years ago. The very good remembrance of caramel logs being stuffed in my fat gob has never left me. Tunnocks, as some may well know, are responsible for more tooth decay in Scotland than any other company! Their wide range of products are chomped on worldwide, and many a dentist has grown rich on his patients love of the Uddingston giants.

All Scots kids develop the sweet tooth by beginning on a Tea Cake or two as a treat, brought out when visitors are in, and progress onto Caramel Wafers and Caramel logs, often suffering the Snowballs on they way. Oh let me suffer mother!!!! It is possible to buy these lovely products worldwide, especially now the internet has changed shopping habits. Several companies at home and abroad make vast profits from the exiled Scots nostalgia for trips to the NHS dentist. I remember the needle being inserted while the dentist muttered, "This will not hurt a bit, be a good soldier." I assure you he lied! Tunnocks were of course not the only people to cash in on the sweet tooth. I once took to a cheap chewing gum and happily received seven fillings because of this disgusting habit! Now all chewing gums and many soft drinks, use Aspartame, a substance with a dubious record, instead of sugar, the products often advertised as 'sugar free.'
I recommend a web search on this product as it is used by so many products and little information regarding the possible problems comes to our attention. I would rather have sugar myself!

The Scots childs love of sweets and the adults love of drink and chips helps make the nation one of the unhealthiest in the world! I suppose having such dreich weather does not help. The idea of cold mackerel and salad while the dark gray clouds unleash heavy drops of cold rain rarely appeals as much as spam fritters and chips, with a whisky follower! Not that I would know of course, I am only going of what others tell me here. However when I left Edinburgh's gray skies in 1975, the sun shone that day and I, grasping the money collected for me by my work colleagues - enough for a one way trip to London - I left a society in which red and green peppers were considered 'exotic. Such things really were unknown outside of the middle class shops we could never afford (start playing the violins now). Until the Patels came flooding in from West Africa in 1973 Edinburgh shops still worked a simple routine. They opened at 9, closed from 12 - 1 and closed sharp at 5 p.m. like it or not! The Pakis, as we then called them (well except Mr Khayam, "I'm an Indian, not a bloody Paki!" and being 6'2" and a very good customer in the cash & carry I worked, we submitted to his will) opened their shops from 8 a.m. and did not close till 6 in the evening, one staying open until 7. This small change in the approach revolutionised Edinburgh and it has never looked back. We owe such Pa...Asians, a great deal! However, in spite of tropical fruits and veg, Scots are just as fat as everybody else.

But while I agree with a better 'Veg filled' diet, honest, I have to say that as long as Caramel Logs exist, I will want to eat them! Bring them on I say!

Steam Trains

Isn't this a great picture? What's not to love about a great big steam engine storming up the tracks belching out great clouds of steam? Great isn't it!

I reckon this train is running from Fort William to Mallaig, a journey I went on some years ago. Wonderful experience hanging out the window attempting to take pictures. Not so wonderful taking the bits of soot out of the eye mind you! Once that stuff gets into your hair it hangs about for days. Enjoyable however. There was nothing but a little fishing harbour at journeys end, and a great view of Skye and other islands. Great place when the sun shines.

The steam train was one of the great events of the nineteenth century, changing indeed shaping, the face of the United Kingdom! The engineers like Stephenson had no problems wit demolishing castles at places like Newcastle and Berwick. They were in the way so were removed! Bridges and viaducts were built and cuttings and high banks were made by pick and shovel and hard, hard graft, mostly fuelled by beer as the water was often unhealthy! Admittedly many dug into the earth and buried themselves alive, or fell of viaducts and killed themselves, over 90 I believe died building the Forth Bridge alone. Health and Safety today is run by little corporals with small willies, in the nineteenth century such folks were also left in the foundations of the line! We have much to learn I think.... Gangs of Navvies roamed the land, scaring the locals, working for their favoured engineers. Stephenson, Brunel or Peto laid out the line and hired the men to bring the plans to life, Peto in particular was popular with his men, paying them weekly, not cheating them regarding food supplies, and giving them water and oats instead of beer, but they loved him nevertheless.

Life was altered by the train. Fresh food was brought quickly to town centres from the farms, seeds brought from all parts of the world escaped from botanic gardens and caught up in train wheels travelled the length of the land, people took advantage of the new day holidays to reach the coast bringing places like Blackpool into existence, clocks which were set at local time were synchronised business flourished in the days 'Britain (the racists called it England) was the workshop of the world.' We would be a different world if the train had not been developed. The engineers went world wide taking their navvies with them. Argentina had the railway built for free, but the railway was given the land alongside, so towns were developed and the masses of cattle transported creating wealth for many. Now it is possible to find many called, O'Higgins or even Pedro Manuel McCallister playing football in many parts of South America,a game brought along with the railways. Argentina herself is a very 'British' Latin American land - as if I would know from here! The railway changed the world however the much more effective diesel and electric trains will never have the romance and affection a thundering, whistling steam engine creates in those who come across them today. How I miss them!

Leith

The weather today was cold, very cold. The sky was dull gray and little white drops, not quite snow and yet not large enough to be sleet, slowly dropped from the sky. naturally one thing came to mind - Leith! let's face it, this is Leith weather!

I have many memories of Leith as in the fifties Saturday was Edinburgh's early closing day, Leith had their half day on Wednesday so Mum would do her shopping there. I went along. We could get the bus straight down the road into the dark four storey buildings of Junction Street. At that time the Kirkgate was a dingy old street awaiting redevelopment. The new breed of hope filled architects were desperate to remove the slum housing and give the people decent accommodation. In the rush many decent homes were created, and I benefited from a 'Miller' built stair for one, but alas too many nice we boxes were built without understanding the people who would inhabit them. Now we realise, too late, that renovation was better for such places. While the old Kirkgate was decrepit the New Kirkgate, with its shopping centre and small tower block, may be approved by the health and safety people but it has no character! The populace were of course proud Leithers not Edinburgh folk by the way. Leith remained a separate burgh until 1926.

I began work there in 1966 as a fifteen year old office boy, or 'useless idiot' as the straight talking folk there would say. This I have to say is a talent I have developed so well I may ask for an Arts Council Grant and make my fortune! I began my career as a failure in a whisky bond, one of many that were then found in Leith. These were dour 'Calvinist' faced places, constructed of large stone blocks,with iron bars in every window, locked doors, wooden floors and stairs, very much products of the nineteenth century. These buildings were filled with whisky in vats, Hogshead barrels, and thousands of bottles stored in cases floor upon floor. With the cardboard for the boxes to add to the congested area it is easy to see how these places were death traps.

Our bond was smaller than the one shown in the picture, but the idea was the same. Most bottled the whisky on the premises as we did, some blended it also. Our goods were destined for South Africa, the USA and to anyone with the cash to pay! Distillers are not prejudiced where money is concerned. The death trap is sadly a truth. In 1960 a large bonded warehouse in Glasgow caught fire and resulted in the deaths of nineteen firemen! The firemen just up the road from us had this thought in their minds constantly I reckon.

Of course some things helped remind them of the dangers of their job and our building. Now one of my jobs at that time was testing the fire alarms. This entailed phoning MacDonald Road Fire Station and letting them know I was about to run the test. "Aye right son," would come a somewhat tired voice, and then I would open the box and pull all the buttons out. "OK, right son!" the voice would say, and that was that. One day, not long after other firemen died during the course of their duty, I opened the alarm box at the right time, pulled several bell levers and stopped. I had forgotten to ring the firemen! I rang. This time there was no tired voice, just a man standing up and saying, in an alert and 'just in control of his words' voice, "Don't do that again son!"
I didn't!

The warehouses as you can see have all been developed into overpriced flats. The typical Leith folk have been edged out and a new, trendy type, is now found taking drugs in the pubs and the new cafe's and bars that have sprung up. I doubt however they will have many sitting outside today! The old public houses where workers, sailors and some extremely rough types, and I mean rough, used to carouse now are meeting places for 'Rory' and his friends. I think myself I preferred the chaps just of the ships!

The picture by the way (© 2003 Edinburgh-Scotland.net) comes from this excellent site!
I recommend a look if you wish to visit Edinburgh one day. http://www.edinburgh-scotland.net

'The Might That Was Assyria' by H.W.F.Saggs.

A short while ago I wandered into the library section of this dingy abode and searched the many bookshelves lining the wall in a suitable manner to hide the cracks. Many leather bound volumes gleamed in the dim candlelight, first editions gathered dust here and there, library books that should have been returned when the Tories were in power sat guiltily on an old desk and strategically placed under the shaky table leg I found 'The Might That Was Assyria!'
This excellent book I purchased from the 'Al Saqi Bookshop ' in Westbourne Grove around 1990, but whether the bookshop has survived as well as the book has I cannot tell. Recently I decided to have another wander through the book and I am glad I did. If you desire an easy to read, very informative introduction to the Assyrians this is the book for you. Beginning with the geography of the region, and then describing the earliest agricultural settlements, around 9000 BC, Saggs, in an easy to read narrative, brings us through the rise and fall of the Assyrian Empire. From the vassaldom under Mittanni the growth of independence, then the inevitable domination of the region, we see human nature in action. Saggs has a terrible time excusing the empire building of the nation he very much admires. He claims their expansion was merely a result of ensuring their own borders, which on occasion meant raids into neighbouring lands. At times these 'raids' led them to the Mediterranean and eventually into Egypt and to possess the greatest empire known at that time!

Poor old Saggs does not want to refer to the bible. The prophets in Jerusalem had a terrible habit of putting the Assyrians down, and tend to consider them bad. However, Mr Saggs has to refer to these prophets and their writings to back up his arguments regarding his boys. How he must have hated that! Of course the most common reference to the Assyrians in the bible is when they did venture right up to the gates of Jerusalem under Sennacharib and were forced to flee, although our friend Saggs claims this was because of a Babylonian uprising, not Gods intervention. Some of us can testify that every day events are often just the way God does intervene in his world. It is amazing how coincidence happens when you pray!

Sennacherib was an efficient king, his rebuilding of Nineveh and his other construction works were extensive and he clearly was a leader of men. His name reflects one of the sad notes of his time, the death in childbirth of so many young, it means 'The god Sin has replaced the brothers,' pronounced, 'Sin-ahhe-eriba,' or 'Sennacharib' to us. The brothers clearly were those who died in childbirth, even the royal house suffered like the rest. Ashurbanipal was, as well as an imperialist, a man who collected manuscripts. These were usually the clay tablets covered in cuneiform script but also material written on other material, sometimes in other languages. His concern mostly being with the supernatural. When you are aware that life can change for the worst at any moment it is wise to attempt to read the future. Omens abounded in the kings library, showing his thin hold on power, and the fragility of life in Mesopotamia.

After taking us to the end of the Assyrians, the Babylonians took their place as the major power for a short while, Saggs then gives details of the religion, medicine and army organisation etc of this once great empire. His bias towards them ensures he manages to explain away their savagery to those who opposed them. 'Just to punish the rebels' is the idea he puts forward, although being skinned alive is one way to punish I suppose.
However the one thing that stuck in my mind was the fact that the Assyrians were just like us! In the UK we only know them via the Old Testament where they are denounced and clearly feared. So disliked were they that Jonah, when ordered to tell them to change their ways or else, would not go because he knew YHWH would forgive them if they did repent! That did not please our Jonah. However, here we see them as people, just muddling through as best they can, just like us! They had their wars of 'freedom' and then their empire, their kings lording it over them, and occasionally the people rebelled, most of course having little option in their choice of life had to take the best out of what was on offer, many good times were had, just as there were bad times. People, in spite of the 'culture' or the time in which they exist, are all just the same in the end.
'We are all Jock Tamson's bairns.'

This book is worth a read as it enables us to understand ourselves as well as the OT. One day, when rich, I will seek out his 'The Greatness That was Babylon.'

Magna Carta

The Magna Carta was a document drawn up in 1213 by the then Archbishop of Canterbury , one Stephen Langton. His intention was probably to secure his church from attacks by King John rather than purely humanitarian or democratic ideals. The barons of the day, sick of Johns demands for money and failed foreign policies, supported his intentions and forced John to agree to limit his powers and sign the document at Runnymede. This document was revised on occasion and for some time considered irrelevant. Later parliamentarians rediscovered the ideals contained therein and brought it back to prominence - for their own sake. True humanitarian gestures are rare, and the nobles who signed the original were in no hurry to let their vassals force them into similar gestures! In Cromwell's day his middle class landowner attitudes affected his understanding of democracy also.

The Magna Carta is seen by some as the first statement of democracy, no matter how limited. But it was not the only such statement of freedoms in those distant days. In 1320 The Scots nobles, no doubt aware of Magna Carta also made clear their free state in the Declaration of Arbroath. Although how many of the common people knew, or cared, about this is unclear.

Whether the French understood the principles in Magna Carta or not, they did have themselves a revolution in the eighteenth century which some like to see as walking in the same footsteps. This in turn is seen as the precursor of the American Declaration of Independence in 1776. The American dream is in many hearts based on the Pilgrim fathers and the Declaration of Independence, Life, Liberty and filling your pockets with cash! The idea of bullying other nations and invading them when it takes your fancy appears to be an 'add on.' The Yanks were of course to busy killing Indians, oops sorry, 'Native Americans,' after they found their freedom and taking their land, or ensuring black men, oops 'African Americans,' stayed as slaves, to bother about other nations. Once of course they had grabbed all they could and released the slaves, and kept the 'Jim Crow' laws, they cleared the Spanish out of the Philippine's and then grabbed it for themselves. It takes more than a document or two and a 'myth' of a nation to bring freedom.

However, the Americans do look to the Magna Carta with admiration as the basis on which their nation is founded. Those that have not been spending their time drinking Coca Cola or shooting one another have of course been worshipping at the throne of Mammon! As such one chap has spent £10.6 million (that's $21.32 to you) on the only copy in private hands. It had belonged to Ross Perot the one time presidential candidate, and you will be pleased to hear, now is in ownership by David Rubinstein, whoever he is!

This leaves me wondering, what would you spend £10.6 million on? A rare important document, or something substantial? I like things. I like expensive things that are worth the money, but for a document that you cannot touch because of its age, not keep in the house because of its value, not do anything with except say,"Hey. it's mine!" No thanks. Stick it in a museum and let the folks see it. Tell the kids its history, even if they are bored, but spend your money on something useful. Perot will use the money on wounded veterans and medical research, which sounds more useful. I wonder what Rubinstein does with the rest of his cash?

‘Bible and Sword’

‘Bible and Sword’
by Barbara W. Tuchman.

Just finished reading this excellent study into the connections between the UK and Israel from the supposed presence of Joseph of Arimathea to the British Mandate between the wars. As she was writing in the early 1950s it is not surprising that she ends her study at that point, the state of Israel was too new for historical perspective then.

Tuchman takes us from Joseph through the many pilgrims who travelled to the ‘Holy Land.’ A journey which was long, dangerous, and fraught with difficulties. Following on come the Crusaders, fighting less from ‘faith’ and more for a desire to fight someone somewhere. While she describes the English ‘Lionheart’ Richard, who spent almost everyday of his rule in the middle East, as a great general of his time, she omits his murders. One of the first recorded actions he took was to slaughter the nearby villagers, who though Arabs, were in fact Christian. Still, never mind eh?

At the time the some began translating the bible into readable English others were developing trade with the middle east. Spices from far away India came through Muslim controlled Palestine and English merchants were not slow in seizing the opportunity for trade. Once however the reading of the bible became a staple in the land a new understanding of the Hebrew story left it’s mark upon the nation. This was to put the UK in the forefront of Jewish return to their God given homeland. In time there grew a belief among Evangelicals that the return of the Jews to Israel was necessary to hasten the second coming of Jesus. To this end there grew up a desire to encourage this, Shaftesbury being the leading light here. By the end of the 19^th Century Imperial policy also became involved. The need to keep the Russians away from the India route, meant Britain was determined to control the fading Ottoman Empire. Faith and political expediency left Britain responsible for the return of the Jews.

Agreements made in war are often murky and based on temporary expediency, and soon all sides decided to misinterpret what did not suit them. The Arabs under Faisal agreed with the Jews arrival, then denied this. The Jews still came. Problems which arose in the 1920’s reappeared in the 50’s, and again in the days of the Bush dynasty, although this book, published in 1956, cannot cover this. By 1948 the UK pulled out and gladly left them to get on with it.

Tuchman, an American Jew is a well respected historian. Her books are long but remarkably easy to read. A great deal of study has gone into this book, and allowing for an occasional Hebrew bias, and her inability to understand that ‘England’ is NOT ‘Britain,’ something Englishmen do not understand either it seems, this book gives a wonderful tale of the country’s connection with the ‘Holy Land.’ For faith and adventurous reasons Britons men have travelled, suffered and died there. Memorials to our troops still stand there, pilgrims and merchants still travel regularly, and the UK government regards Israel as a friend. Christians also regard her as the land God gave to her people, but, rightly, all to often question her treatment of the Palestinians, while sharing their appreciation of ‘terrorism.’

But the underlying message for me is the way God works out his purposes. If he has decided to bring his people back to their land, who would have thought that it would require politicians of dubious repute, earnest evangelicals and, lastly, zealous Zionists. Zionists who fought just as hard against Jewish opposition as any other! Who would have chosen these people for this task. God works out his purposes in the world around us, and all too often we do not see this. In our own lives and in the world as a whole he continues to work, while we waste time in speculation and biblical arguments over the interpretation of ‘prophecy.’ Jesus would have us speculate less, and just live for him more. He will return at the appointed time, we must just live today and concentrate on our job, he can take care of the rest.

England and the English

The United Kingdom comprises four nations. Scotland, Wales, Northern Ireland and England. In the eyes of the world it comes all to often under the name 'England.' The sad thing is, it comes under that name also in the minds of far too many Englishmen! The Irish troubles are well known, and the separation of the six Ulster counties in the nineteen twenties was supposed to end the conflict there. It failed, only political means will do so. Wales was absorbed almost unnoticed a thousand years ago by the aggressive land grabbing English King Edward I. He tried this on Scotland also and was not just rebuffed but defeated by William Wallace. Robert the Bruce later confirmed Scotland as a free nation by defeating Edwards feeble descendant at Bannockburn. (At this point it is permissible to shout 'Hooray!')

Since then England wormed away at the neighbour to the north, with every intention of being the dominant partner. King James VI became the sovereign head of both nations in the 1600s, while the union of the parliaments was forced by economic and diplomatic strangulation in 1707.
The first prevented needless wars, the second was intended to destroy Scotland altogether. It failed! Scotland ignored the attempt to refer to her as 'North Britain' and remained proudly Scots, the people working with Calvinistic effort to build a new world. Scotland led the way in the 'Enlightenment' with Edinburgh becoming the 'Athens of the North' with her abundance of thinking men. The Scots worked throughout the now 'United Kingdom,' teaching in the churches and building what was to become the 'Empire.' They, along with the Welsh and Irish were found in every sphere, arts, business, sport, music and religion. Without them England would never have become the 'workshop of the world.'

Yet to listen to the TV or radio it appears we are all 'English!' 'We' they tell us, have suffered defeat in Russia at the football, against South Africa (where 'we' were cheated), and in the F1 race where Hamilton (a Scots name) failed. 'We?' Scotland lost to Argentine and it was hardly mentioned in the news of the UK media, Wales disappeared without trace or mention and the Irish were ignored. Why is this? Why do TV stations go 'live' at the airport to see the returning rugby losers? What is this self belief the English have? But wait a minute, is this self belief or emptiness? The English are seen as arrogant, over hyped, self worshipping folk, and not without reason. They really do believe their football team is one of the best in the world, and that they deserve to always be at the top table. They have a litany of complaints concerning the times they were 'cheated' these 'world cup winners' who were given goals when the ball never crossed the line. What is it that makes them so?

Since 1996 England has realised she is a nation, up till then she thought she was Britain, and regarded the little bits at the edges as parts of her. She is still stunned by the rejection she feels after the cry for freedom and equality that erupted there some years ago. How to respond? Why by feeling betrayed, resentful and by ignoring the wrongs the English as individuals and as a nation have done to the other members of the UK. She also emphasises even more her self importance in sport as a means of being a nation. But the English still do not really know what that is. Scots know what they are, as do the Welsh and Irish, but will the English ever understand? This is not to say there a re no good English, on the contrary. They share the 'Britishness' that close cooperation has brought, and many have never understood the true depth of feeling engendered by their racist attitude. An attitude most clearly seen in the impression given of Gordon brown the prime minister as 'another Scot!' Blair is seen as a Scot, a term he never used for himself, and one he obviously rejected, but to the Tories in particular, who are seen as the 'middle England party, that is what he is classed as. There are a great many shared 'British' attitudes, most are good, but until the four nations are recognised as such, and treated equally, there will always be discontent. A discontent that will result in great glee at the fall of the English supermen, whatever sport they play!

By the by, in the kingdom of Gods terms, is nationhood important? A collection of people under a geographic sphere, that is a nation, nothing more. Being proud of being a certain nation is neither right nor wrong. We ought to be proud we have a nation that does the right thing, and humbled by the many failings, and all nations have these. Stereotypes do exist, and always shall, but these are cultural and not part of the basic man. That never changes whatever the nation! Some nations have been badly led by poor leadership, and individuals have a responsibility before God to promote a decent society wherever they are, within their capabilities. So ensure you vote, complain, contact MPs or councillors or whatever is required to ensure a better nation. Respect for nations, like respect for individuals, and a true comprehension of where they are at appears to me to be a Godly approach.
I hope I am right?

Television, Why is it so Bad?

Now if a TV station offered you a certain type of programme you would understandable expect to watch such programmes, surely? Yet in recent days the station calling itself UKTV History has singularly failed to offer us history! Why? Instead we are confronted with a series of soap operas masquerading as history and failing to convey anything of the times they represent.

We have recently been subjected to 'Dunkirk,' which claimed to represent the actions from that time and obscured the facts behind a tour-de- force-de-overacting from men who clearly had no conception of what war is like, cameras that moved constantly, obscure camera angles, needless close ups, and left this viewer with no knowledge of the events although a growing desire to fix bayonets and fire a Lee Enfield .303 at the producers of such tripe!

This was followed by 'Rome!' A production with yet more actors found unfit for a run in 'Coronation St' or 'Eastenders!' Toga's abound, as did blood, overacting and sexy women, were there no fat ugly women in history then? And, as a passing thought, why is there never a drunk smashing the jukebox or being sick in the background, or fighting with the barman in such pubs? is the beer watered down perhaps? The reality conveyed by Rome, and by the fall of Pompeii, or indeed any other 'historical drama' is NOT history!

History requires an uncovering of facts. These facts are then interpreted and explained, usually argued over, as all historians are always right! But actors never give facts! Instead the viewer fails to see Henry VIII as he was, he has the image of an actor, using today's feeble acting techniques, and is left not with Henry but a famous actor! This nonsensical approach reached a new level when a stature of William Wallace, the Scots freedom fighter, was revealed and found to have the face of Mel Gibson the four foot six Australian bam who attempted to portray the six foot seven ginger haired hero in the film 'Braveheart.' He failed spectacularly! Actors and representation of folk from the past fail to give us history, they give us soap operas,and usually therefore concentrate on the bits the small minded wish to see, fights, arguments,and of course, lots of sex! The idea of allowing the real person to appear is smothered by the need to sell the programme, and what sells better than a naked breast or two?

Well that sells to me anyway!

As UKTV shows yet more episodes of 'Sharpe,' a lot of cobblers set in the Iberian war against Napoleon, I look to other channels for either entertainment or information. What do we find early in the day? news programmes that are as dumbed down as possible. BBC breakfast News is like it's ITV counterpart, more interested in the goings on in Britney Spears confused life than in thousands dying in Darfur. More attention is spent by Lorraine Kelly on a handbag than on the collapse of the economy. A child's eating habits, caused by a lazy mum more concerned with her so-called 'career,' is worth fifteen minutes debate, the threatened invasion of Iran by the dunce in the White House may get a passing reference in the news bulletin - unless a cricket player breaks a thumb of course! Sky, both News and Sports follows the same pattern, dumbed down news, repeated ad nauseum, short and simple as the audience cannot concentrate for more than a few seconds. Are they following the audience or pandering to them?

Now I understand why such programmes exist, but I do not want history reduced to a mere numb drama, I want proper news with real explanations and comment, I want Television for those who have a life as well as those who don't! yet all we are offered in the main, is Dumb TV.
I am told it is worse in the USA - woopee! That tells us how Reagan got elected then!

Will this situation improve? No! Ratings talks, money talks, adverts are aimed at the majority and the majority want 'pap!' Money comes from adverts so the independent channels, and Murdoch's Sky, will always follow money. The BBC with the 'public service' element has an opportunity to give quality, aimed at the smaller audience, and does this in Radio 3. But seems unwilling all to often to reach out .I suppose it is more important to be a secular liberal and ensure your face fits inside the Beeb, and also ratings make you famous.

Great! I'm depressed now, I think I need some dumbed down telly to cheer me up - there is plenty of choice......

Dictionary of Cynical Quotations

Some years ago, when visiting my Spiritual Mentor and his family, they presented me with a copy of this book,'Dictionary of Cynical Quotations.' What me, cynical? I had never realised how cynical I had become. naturally I reacted in the correct manner - and blamed them!

But in the United Kingdom today we have a cynical approach. Much comedy is based in a cynicism, and not just with today's life, it has been created here over many years. The improvement in the condition of folks in the UK in the nineteenth century, and it was an improvement, came along with a strong sentimental streak. This was destroyed by the Great War, as indeed were many other 'myths' of daily life. The 'British' had developed a black and ironic humour, much used in such times to keep folk going, and one of the blessings this country possesses. It was much needed during the period between the wars when the 'homes built for heroes' never arrived and when work disappeared. The depression and poor housing, the Jarrow Crusade' and soup kitchens, all these have left a mindset in the UK that will never disappear. Add to this a second war and the time is right for sarcasm to arise!

As wealth grew apace during the years of peace (peace? 50 million or more dead since 1945 in various wars! Peace eh?) the inevitable happened. We have become fat and empty of values. I wonder if this is why a cynical attitude arose, and grew in the years of Margaret Thatchers rule? Possibly it was the 'British' personality added to the cruel Tory attitude of the eighties in which people were less important than money! Since the war and attitude, of hidden by various domestic squabbles, existed in which, generally, the 'service' element existed. This was by the late seventies seen as corrupt, and they have a point, and needed radical change. The change reawakened the lust for Mammon that lies within us all, cynicism thrived, especially with politicians and 'leading people.'

The 'Cynics' originated in ancient Greece, the word coming from the word KYNICOS, the adjective for dog. Cynics, it appears took the dog as a kind of badge! Diogenes was a leader among them who rejected the world's view, and often in somewhat crude ways! Their story is quite interesting if you wish to strain your mind trying to understand them, but worth a go one quiet rain filled day. Anyway I was given this book as I appear to have a cynical view on the world, and I thought I was loving and kind.

However I recommend cynicism, especially when listening to politicians, news reports on the telly, and indeed anywhere else, and when reading adverts that offer to make you rich or beautiful or famous for £19.99! Cynicism has a value. But it can be misused, we can disbelieve facts when they are presented out of habit. Use it wisely.

Blogcatalogue Avatar

Now here is a thing. On Thursday I changed my avatar from the bust of Thucydides to the Rampant Lion flag of William I. Yet nothing happened! I tried again, and still nothing happened, and so I thought I had failed. Just now I log on and LO! The avatar has changed - four days late! Is this a miracle? Could it be the system is always four days late?
I suppose the wise man would check what shows up as his last post - but I canny be bothered so I won't. I had to change it. After Scotland's wonderful win on Wednesday I thought it appropriate, I also wanted something a bit more colourful, hence the Lion Rampant as opposed to the Saltire.

As I recall William I left Scotland with little bar the flag. he served Scotland for many years and not always wisely. Here is an excellent, brief, history of the king of Scots from so long ago. Note, he is King of Scots not Scotland. The democratic Scots did not allow the king to own the land. Indeed if he failed the Scots he was removed democratically - usually with a democratic battle axe!
http://members.aol.com/skyelander/thelion.html

Genealogy

I had a phone call the other night from a man in Iowa asking about our family heritage. Like so many other Americans he has been searching into the family tree. In his case the family line is traceable back to 1685 and a man who was 'encouraged' by the authorities of the day to emigrate. He could have stayed but only if minus his head, and in 1685 such stimulation had a high success rate! In fact he was unaware that we have already had contact with others in that line many years ago. So much so that they came over and visited the family up in Edinburgh and toured the places, much changed, connected with the past. I believe some still have a little contact with them. I missed them however, as I went looking for them and the unhelpful 'Nancy Boys' in the hotel meant I missed them. They went back to the States regarding me as a dunderhead I reckon. So I ask, what's new?

On our side the history is not very exciting. My dad being born in 1908 means he would be 99 years old if alive! Mum is very young in comparison, a mere 94 today. Granddad was born near Norham in 1845, a very long time ago now. Especially when most folks today consider a granddad as someone born in the forties or fifties! Great grandad Robert, they were all Roberts until my brother Robert got sick of it and called his son Stuart, he was a farmer. I reckon this means he was a 'tenant farmer' as opposed to one of the rich guys of the time. Many folk farmed only a few acres in comparison to today's vast fields. They complained just as much I would expect! His son Robert, my granddad went on to drive steam locomotives, no mean feat it has to be said. Sometime along the way he picked up the railway and eventually ended up in Edinburgh. We know he drove the shunter down at the Gasworks at Granton but nothing else about his time on the railway.

Funny what you find out about the folks from the past. One friend discovered her granddad was a bigamist. He had gone to Canada for a while and looking for work ended in the USA, in Louisiana. There he spent few years and was happily married. He then enlisted in the Canadian Army when war broke out in 1914, as did a great many other emigres. After the war his wife claimed the war pension only to discover it had already been paid to his wife! However after checking the Canadians went ahead and paid both women for neither knew about the other. My friend's mother had not known of the story but when the remaining elderly aunts were questioned it was discovered to be true. Nothing had been said because of the shame!

Lack of time and money, especially money, meant we had to end our search such as it was. Had we cash and incentive we could be traipsing round Northumberland and delving into the local studies part of the Newcastle library for more info. However, even using the web it does not get us much further. Well actually that was then, maybe it is time to look up the library and have another go via this wonderful Internet thing.