Tuesday 18 June 2019

Hedingham Castle.


Having come by bus and dragged my bulk around the village under a warm sun  I wearily slogged up the driveway into the castle grounds.  On the way I was passed by several luxurious cars and the driver of one kindly waited for me after he and the rest had parked their gleaming chariots and offered oxygen and water as we climbed the slope.  The long drive can be a disadvantage in a large house.


Having joined the rich who had parked earlier we entered the house to listen to the owner tell the house history. Sir William Ashurst MP, one time Lord Mayor of London, created the house possibly when he bought the castle in 1713. Sad to say the house was finished in 1719 at which point the man himself passed away.  This fine house has since passed through many owners down to the present who had the opportunity to renovate the entire building, much needed work after many years of abuse.  Now, as you can glimpse by the desk in the library the place has been magnificently done up. With this library, and the way it is laid out, I was very taken.  Hundreds of books abound on the shelves and my heart, but not my wallets, desire is for a room just like this!


The garden is quite nice also!  The grounds are large, a gardener on a grass cutting tractor was working his way around as we entered, the large pool if that is the word, surrounded by glorious grounds, the variety of greenery all around was wonderful.  It took three of us to pull one woman away and force her into her car at the end.   It is no surprise the castle is now a wedding centre and many events are held here.  However I felt a bit guilty for intruding on peoples house, that does not seem right, but I suppose by this means they can cope with the mighty bills that come with renovation and the upkeep of such large fancy houses.  The lady of the house did not at any time come over as precious or superior and was excellent with all the gang.  Many asked questions as we wandered about and all were pleased with the lass.  


The variety of fireplaces alone as interesting, the paintings around the walls, the many plates and vases on offer impressed many.  In some ways it reminded me of Aunt Annies house, full of stuff she never used and was dated back into the far past. But my heart however remained in the library.  I refrained from using the stairs to visit the first floor as my knees might have objected, I forgot I was going into the keep!


Our party, supposedly 25 but certainly contained more than that, gossiped and murmured its way out through the wood panelled hallway halting only for one inquisitive individual to ask "What's that for?" and then pull the small lever on the bookcase.  The entire bookcase swung open to reveal the rooms you are not meant to see and enthral the Agatha Christie lovers.  No bodies were there discovered...as yet.


Brick lovers would have loved Tudor times.  Much of the outer wall of the castle was rebuilt at that time including the removal of the drawbridge and then the construction of this fabulous bridge.  I was much impressed with this.  Other red brick buildings are found but much later and it appears Tudor brickies were as popular as Victorian ones much later.
The castle rises magnificently as you approach and while the outer buildings have long since disappeared the effect is stunning.


The throng gathered themselves together as a brief interesting history of the Keep and the castle site was uttered.  As you know Aubrey de Vere, a Norman Knight and a friend of William the Conqueror, was in possession of what stood here in 1086, probably a small wooden castle, and his first work appears to have been to plant a vineyard.  Two points of interest here, one is that the vineyard did survive with red grapes apparently found in the grounds in recent years, and secondly he married William's half sister, every little bit helps when dealing with kings I find.
His castle will probably have been a wooden construction but his son began the ten year task of building this more formidable creation in 1140.  This reflects his wealth, position and power.  This also reveals how quiet the land had become by then as you only build such things in peacetime.  Most who lived during Williams invasion were long gone as would be the memory of the Saxon kings of that time.   
Among their visitors was the Empress Matilda, a very powerful lady in her day who ended her life here in 1151.  Her son took the throne as Henry II. 


Entering by the bottom door through the 11 foot thick walls we clambered upwards, not for the first time, into what was probably the storage area for the castle.  Here, lit by 'candles' that were bought from the 'Merlin' series, we learned the use of the floor in the past and now.  Recycling is good and the flooring came from I think she said Southend Pier when it was being renovated, and other items obtained in similar fashion.  The family may be well off but this lass did not squander cash and impressed us all with her knowledge, wisdom and personality.  Then, after having shown the interested parties the base where what arrived from medieval toilets was collected we headed for the stairs!  
Oh joy!


 The only way is up..and up...and up...


In the Banqueting Hall de Vere and his company wood eat at trestle tables possibly with table covers stuffing red deer and pheasants down their throat, with or without the wine grown on his estate. Rushes, and I suspect flower petals would be strewn across the floor making cleaning easier and treading on the petals released fragrance to cover the odour of the people!  No fitted showers on show.  Churches used the same trick, maybe they ought to try it again?  Just asking.  Several of our lot did investigate the historic loo tucked away round the corner but few were willing to try it out.  I was with them! 


Above us soared the biggest Norman arch in the country and on the Minstrels Gallery seen high above once strode Jesters, Minstrels and entertainers for the peoples stuffing it down below them.  Imagine the noise of a full hall.  The famous sitting at the top table, the lesser gentry further down.  The envies, jelousies and political games played while they ate.
Not all these Earls had good luck. Robert the 9th Earl was disliked by jealous courtiers who had him exiled to Flanders, there he was killed by a wild boar in 1392, rather a pig of a day that.  John, the 12th Earl, was loyal to Henry VI but when Edward IV took the throne suspicious people put both father and son in the tower.  During 1461 they were beheaded.  Being among the 'in crowd' does not always lead to success. John the 13th Earl suffered for his king enduring 12 years in prison.  Eventually he returned to win victory for Henry VII at Bosworth Field and received every sort of honour.  However in 1498 having entertained Henry the king suddenly realised how wealthy, and therefore how much of a threat he had become, the Earl was fined 15,000 marks to keep him in his place!  Never show your wealth to the king.


Around the castle tastefully thought out items appear such as these helmets which I am guessing are Norman, or at least Norman fashion.  I wonder what Elizabeth the first thought of it all when she visited in 1561?  The Earl would have had to stump up for her entourage and the cost of the food requirements would have been frightening.  The court travelled around the country ensuring they all knew who was in charge but the cost of provision would hinder many from equipping themselves with arms to rebel.

  
Whether these armaments ever saw action is unknown but they hang above the Hall reminding visitors on how Aubrey de Vere got possession of his home.  Politics is no less noble now than it was then, which means no nobility among the nobles whatsoever in my view, as long as they kept in with the ruling monarch all was well.
Unfortunately in 1216 almost all Essex Lords turned on King John as they were taxed about his taxes!  Especially as he required more than thought right and he kept losing wars, he was not a military man like his brother Richard. They, rebellious Essex men that they were turned, up at Runnymede and assisted him in signing the 'Magna Carta.'  Robert de Vere, the 3rd Earl of Oxford was a leader among them.  The Dauphin of France was asked to become King in John's place but John defeated the French garrison at Colchester causing that plan to fail.  For reasons of his own (money I expect) the pope sided with John and John then set out to visit Hedingham and remove the man in charge.  The siege lasted for some time and by using secret tunnels the besieged were able to obtain fresh fish which they threw at the attackers indicating they had plenty of stores.  However this did not last and the struggle failed.  John removed de Vere and took his lands as kings do.  A year later the position was reversed when the Dauphin himself took the castle and fighting ended when John died and weak King Henry III gave back all de Vere's lands to him.



 
I did visit the castle some 20 years ago when young and fit and clambered right up onto the roof.  This time huffing and puffing many of us were glad of the rope bannister alongside the wall as we trekked up and down the stairs.  Quite why a defibrillator or oxygen masks were not available we were too puffed to ask.  
One man asked where the lift was but got a rude reply.  
The White Hart, as seen in the window, was the sign of Richard II, it looks good tucked away in one of the many corners but the Earl followed Richard I know not. The windows are small but not suitable for shooting arrows at passing King John's I would have thought.  The narrow Minstrel Gallery you will notice brought joy to some of us as it indicated another flight of stairs.  It is surprising how so many old people raced up and down these steps without accident or heart attack.


 
The decoration carved on the doors must have taken some time, remember there are five floors all in.  The building took ten years to complete, one floor per year.  It was not possible to work in winter as the lime used in mortar did not set in such conditions.  The collection of the rubble, flints stone and what have you that they put in the walls must have taken some time.  The facing stone itself came from Nottingham some distance away.
Others over the years have taken delight in carving their name or comment into the walls, windows and elsewhere. There was not time to seek out the oldest but these could go back quite far.  At least as far as people who could write their names could go.


It struck many of us that the hall would have been very cold in winter, we had windows and heating, they had wall hangings and whatever to cover the icy gaps.  The sheer size of the hall would have made heating difficult even if a banquet was under way and the place crowded.  



Oh goody!  More stairs!  
At least there is a decent view all round.  I cannot imagine trees would be so abundant that close to the Keep when there was a threat of enemy attack.  Today the threat appeared to be pigeons nesting on the windows.



The make up of the walls comprised stone such as this with the Nottingham stone on the outside to present a decent face to the world.  This was the original entrance with the square building operating as a prison.  There was no door, prisoners were just dropped in from the top and a trapdoor shut on them.  
Good luck to you in there.  


It was amazing, while on the top floor now used as a museum, to see pictures of the great fire of 1918 which gutted the place.  All the floors to the bottom were reduced to ashes, furniture and all else inside destroyed.  The army, God bless them, had been on top of the roof making use of the height to signal to aircraft.  The men had lit a fire and somehow this led to the entire roof catching fire which then engulfed the building.  All the more amazing when we look at the work done today and see how well it has all been done up.


I thoroughly enjoyed the day even though my knees have yet to forgive me.  
The castle is now used as a wedding venue, lucky them, and has many other events from time to time, jousting, archers and re-enactors and such like which one day I might look in on. The general mood was good and everybody enjoyed the house, gardens and castle.  Of course this lot are history buffs and much knowledge was shared all through the day, in between lying on the ground seeking our breath, and I thought all went home happy.  
Especially me as one of the attractive young ladies gave me a lift home, several fought over the privilege, thus saving me meeting humans on the bus back.
A jolly good day out, and I slept well last night...


Hedingham Castle, well worth a visit 
even if you are not getting married!


Monday 17 June 2019

Castle Hedingham


The command was clear, meet at 2.pm or else.
Therefore earlier today I took possession of the bus pass and marched out resolutely towards the bus stop in time for my bus.  Having spent considerable time attempting to understand the timetable, which became clear once I realised where the bus began its journey and how it related to me, I made it to the stance.  This caused trickle of fear as a bus pulled out as I got in and it took a while to discover there were two routes covered here on those buses, the red ones.  
I scrutinised the queue.
Not the zimmer frame lot here this was more country bumpkin.  Indeed most left at the town up the road, the one that used to remind some people of those programmes where the CIA chase UFO's, it's that sort of place.
While waiting a second bus emptied it's untidy load and I found a strange man staring at me.  This took me a while to realise who this person was, John my old mate, a man I did not recognise because he looked well, fit and fat and therefore different to my weary eyes.  Unfortunately we could not talk as my bus arrived but he did tell the why he was almost happy, he was happy to come into town, he was unhappy she got off the bus and told him she thought she had left something switched on and got back on the bus to go home to check.  I expect John will be even happier when she returns 50 minutes later indicating she had switched off and all was well!

  
G.K.Chesterton had a line "The rolling English drunkard/Made the rolling English road."  He must have been in North Essex when he came up with that!  Sitting upstairs, right at the front, like an 8 year old, on a near empty top deck, only two adolescents at the rear and they did not speak as they stared into their phones, I viewed the world around me.  
Green fields rolled gently this way and that, occasional cows, once  shepherd and his newly fleeced sheep, many fields of crops about to turn from green to gold.  The bus rolled with the narrow roads, up and down, left and right, and naturally through the housing estates that insist everybody has a car or you are trapped.  Today at least three buses pass through these but for how long?  Cuts are losing such services and people do not count to Tory governments.  The bus pass is already under threat.  


No pictures on the way as the recent changeable weather did not leave the windows clear enough for that.  However on time we arrived the 'The Bell' at journeys end and I popped into St Nicholas Church for a look around.  Dating from 1180, and built by the Normans on top of probably a Saxon wooden church, many Norman features remain in spite of constant upgrading.  I believe this door is known as the 'Skin door' as some poor wretch was flayed and his skin attached there in an effort to deter crime.  Whether anyone else attempted to rob the church is not mentioned but in the  19th century when renovating the building pieces of skin were found in the door.  


I happened to notice a War Memorial at the front.  The 37 dead men were commemorated by an Anglo-Norman shaft which dates from the 12th century and appears unfinished.  This cross was placed at Crouch Green (cruc in Latin as you know) and appears to stood for 400 years until Henry VIII dissolved the Monasteries.  It was then dumped and later found to be supporting the roof of the Falcon Inn basement.  Donated, one a replacement was found, it became the shaft of the memorial erected in 1921.  Indications are the shaft was ordered by de Vere, the Lord of the Manor up the road in his castle.  Such ancient relics connected to the district put to good worthy use is to be commended.

 
This ancient church, musty smell as always, has many little items dotted around dating back generations and not always clear as to their purpose.  On the right is an external 'Stoup' placed outside for those passing by.  What is a 'Stoup?'  Google dictionary says :-
 stoup /stuːp/.  noun
a basin for holy water, especially on the wall near the door of a Roman Catholic church for worshippers to dip their fingers in before crossing themselves.

But you know that.  


There is of course the usual lectern not one found in the local St Paul's I can tell you!  This rather haughty one appears content to dominate the nave.


This is a wee bit blurred picture of a wee bit blurred image which could be an aged Saxon relic of Mary Magdalene, or possibly an aesthetic priest, or anything else.  It is aged, broken and blurred, such things are interesting and possibly over a thousand years old. 


What was this used for?  


An excellent piece of craftsmanship offers this dedication to the Boy Scouts of the district.  Sadly I slighty moved on taking it and stupidly did not take another.  Excellent work however.


The Chancel was very dark which does not show on here and I have another blurred pic.  I should have stayed at home.  This was John de Vere, the 15th earl of Oxford who was not buried with the other de Vere's in Earls Colne Priory but here.  This was because Henry VIII was still dissolving such places and our man died at the wrong time.  The restorers also treated him with little concern and moved him to the side.  What would he have said I wonder?   


Norman arches abound around here, this one carries the entrance to the chancel.  The church is a bit darker in real life but consider the people who have passed through this door over the years.  Go back to the Saxons before them and allow the type of people, Lords and peasants who have been seen inside this place.  

 
Time to meet the rest of the gang so I wondered around the graveyard, untouched since a new cemetery opened in 1910, maybe they had a fear of plague breaking out...    


On the right 'Falcon House; once the Inn now a private house.  This was where the lords falconer lived.  To the right a narrow lane (are lanes not all narrow in places like this?) which connects swiftly to the castle grounds.  Like all such villages round here many homes date back a good while.

  
The money must have remained around here.  The number of Georgian houses next to much older abodes was noticeable.  Agriculture was surely the main thing, as well as keeping in with royalty, where else would cash come from?  The peasants did not get much.


I was struck by the close connection between the pillar box and the phone box.  The bright red colour standing out in the sunshine.  Then I realised it was a defibrillator box now.  So many of these things are being installed in a wide variety of places and this appeared to me to be a good spot for one of these items.


I wonder if the falconer knew these cottages on the lane.  These may have been modernised and cost over half a million but possibly go back many years.


I cared now for nothing but reaching my goal, under the flag atop the castle walls waited my comrades desperate for historical information and tea and cake, but not in that order....


Friday 14 June 2019

Old Scots Vid



Too lazy busy to post so here is an old video you might like.

Thursday 13 June 2019

Boris and Iran


As Boris takes a 114 to 43 lead over Jeremy Hunt in the 'Who will be the next worst PM?' competition the New European has published a list of Bojo's comments, they are worth reading.
For instance:-
1) During the London Riots of 2011 it took mayor Boris Johnson three days to return from holiday in Canada. He said: "I came as fast as I could."

2) Johnson has claimed he was arrested and spent a night in the cells after members of Oxford University society the Bullingdon Club threw a flowerpot through a restaurant window in 1987. In 2010 the Financial Times revealed both he and David Cameron had escaped before the police arrived. One former 'Buller' member said: "I never knew Boris could run so fast."


7) Boris on the people of the Commonwealth, 2002: "It is said that the Queen has come to love the Commonwealth, partly because it supplies her with regular cheering crowds of flag-waving piccaninnies."

8) According to a 2003 Observer profile of Johnson: "Rod Liddle recalls that when he and Johnson went to Uganda, Johnson cheerily remarked to the Swedish Unicef workers and their black driver: 'Right, let's go and look at some more piccaninnies.'"


22) Johnson initially denied he'd had an affair with Wyatt, calling it "balderdash... an inverted pyramid of piffle". He was sacked as shadow arts minister in 2004 when it was discovered that he had been lying.

23) Brought back as a junior shadow education minister in 2005, Boris went on to have a fling with Times Educational Supplement journalist Anna Fazackerley. Married Johnson fathered a love child, Stephanie, with art consultant Helen McIntyre in 2009.

24) Johnson's former Telegraph editor, Max Hastings, wrote: "I would not trust him with my wife nor - from painful experience - my wallet. It is hard to believe that an man so conspicuously incapable of controlling his own libido is fit to be trusted with controlling the country."


38) Running for mayor in 2007, Johnson pledged to get rid of London's bendy buses as "they wipe out cyclists, there are many cyclists killed every year by them". In fact, no London cyclists were killed by bendy buses from their introduction in 2001 until their removal in 2011.

39) As mayor, Johnson claimed that he would introduce 'Boris bikes' to London "at no cost to the taxpayer". In 2013 it was revealed that each bike was actually costing Londoners £1,400 and that the annual £11million subsidy could have bought each of the 38,000 annual users their own bicycle. 


Read through these, and others elsewhere and ponder on the fact that this man can soon become Prime Minister!  We thought Cameron was an out of touch Toff, we thought May was an out of position hypocrite, we know what Boris is and he is worse than any so far.
Now tell me we are not heading into the end times?


Once again we see the mighty at work.  The immediate thought is that this is a CIA inspired attack, like the last one, to discredit Iran.  However it might well be, as others say, the Saudi's attempting to initiate a war between the USA and Iran,my best thought is that this is the Israeli's.  Our Benjamin is getting his men to attack our shipping and blame Iran, what could be easier?  
The Saudi's and the Israeli's have given us a war in Syria in an attempt to reduce the threat from Iran.  Saudi has of course happily murdered children in Yemen for their own defence using some of the £38 billion worth of munitions we send them.  Good on us!  
The stupidity of Trump, the threat of Boris and the mixture of the middle east will produce a situation difficult to end.  Are we ready for this?  Will our attention be elsewhere?  

With a confused world more concerned about the false notion of 'equality for gays' and committed to murdering as many children as possible under a 'woman's right' is it to be expected that the God who created us and still watches over s will sit back and do nothing?
Since Adam left the garden the world has been broken, it is arguable that it is in a worse state now than it ever has been.  Global warming, however caused, moral breakdown, unbelief, false religion, inept leadership in politics and over population with a dwindling food supply it does not look good for the future.  Some will say 'Peace' but offer no solution, others will say 'war' which is no solution, Jesus says 'Come to me while you have the chance.'  That is a solution...

Wednesday 12 June 2019

Wednesday Grumble


Not much has happened since the carnival on Saturday.  This is because it has rained much of the time limiting opportunity to get out.  I suspect Wales is having now what we have had much of today.  Good luck with that!  
I also have museum work which means looking up things I have forgotten, searching for items I wrote long ago and discovering they have disappeared, and having to rewrite in simple language what little I have found.
This interferes with my need to sleep, visit Tescos and read papers and books.  It also leads to eating badly and putting back the weight I lost last week.  Tomorrow I restart my diet again.  Foolishly I bought two big papers at the weekend, something I never do, and have been ploughing through them all week, in the Loo.  Once I have separated the many parts, dumped half off them, began reading the interesting bits I find it is Tuesday!  The colour supplements are glossy but full of middle class writers, mostly women, saying nothing.  The items inside are uninteresting and aimed at those with too much money and a desire to keep up with their peers, rarely do such mags actually contain something worthwhile, it is all image!  Clearly not my image.
There is no doubt that apart from the owners bias these papers do at least contain journalists, even if some of them are far from reality.  The writing is better, some of it is worth reading and the spelling superior to that found in the Daily Mail.  Even the Guardian has got a spellchecker, whoever she is.  I will be through them in time for next weeks, if I can afford £2-3 for a paper.

 
I have watched some of the girly football on offer these days and was impressed by some of it.  Scotland as we know was again cheated by the English with a dubious penalty but put on a good show anyway.  Many teams do show hard work and good skill, not too sure women and made to be goalkeepers mind, and altogether it is not as bad as I feared.
It must be said it is not equal to the men's game and it is annoying to hear some of these females grumbling that they want the same money as the men.  In their minds they are some sort of superior sport but in reality they are far from that.  In fact they get paid much more than men playing for many teams, Cowdenbeath players would like these girls advantages, however if we put Cowdenbeath up against the Scots or English international women's side Cowden would win quite easily.  If you wish to increase cash you must increase the numbers watching, even Cowdenbeath struggle with that.

Sunday 9 June 2019

The Weekend


Yesterday, to the delight of all, the clouds were ushered north by the near 40 mph winds and the annual Carnival was allowed to proceed as normal.  As normal there were less floats than last year and even less entertainment on offer.  Once more the music was abysmal and the local pub that once offered a rock band playing proper music failed to materialise again this year, a great loss.  That said several local bands of very large young girls dressed in Tutu's twirled batons and sort of danced their way around the town.  This lot represented some sort of gym, or was it a club I was not sure, clearly however none of them could be mistaken for those representing 'youth.'  They were however happy and a great many of them took up a lot of space in the parade.  You can read that bit any way you like.  

    
I often wonder where these 'queens' come from and where they go to afterwards.  They must be local schoolgirls, something I gratefully know nothing about, yet do any become famous after a year as a 'queen?'  Do they do anything the rest of the year?  I will not investigate but I do know hundreds of such are found in many parts of these islands each year to their delight and short lasting fame.


This part did not improve the music as for reasons unknown only the big drum and his little mates were banging as they passed us.  Tsk!  The fire engine led the parade but did not reach the end apparently, It appears someone called it out halfway round.   
The kids like their moment of joy on the parade, the adults happy the kids are pleased and a few hours are filled.  Those who go to the meeting place at the end and spend money of the activities there are less pleased.  I did not go there.  It is a good time for the town yet what does it say about my life that here I am enjoying this?  


I had to see a man re the food bank this morning so I went to the early service at this church. (I did not take this photograph @unknown) This is a combination of two churches that merged some years ago and they offer a 9:30 service (the old people's one) and an 11 am service (the noisy young people like you and me one).  I chose for various reasons the 9:30 and had a 'hymn sandwich'  with communion in the old style.  This was bearable but the hymns chosen were not, so old and not really to my liking.  Being without a zimmer frame I got some strange looks and few under 60 were to be seen. It made St Paul's with its informal/formal format look exciting!  There again I was at this place as an attempt to avoid the liberal theologian who was speaking there today.  The vicar banned me from throwing chairs at him so I didn't attend.


During the week there has been a big media fuss re two lesbians who were confronted by several youths on a London bus.  Taunted and threatened the girls refused to kiss one another for the yobs entertainment and were attacked, beaten and robbed.  Being gay has led to the media making this a major story and the Met police have worked quickly to detain several young men aged between 15-18 over the offence.  If these are responsible this is good action by the police.  Such attacks are rare and deserve proper sentences.  
However, had these girls not been 'gay' and been two young normal men would the media report it? Of course not!  In fact in our town some neds asked a man and woman for cigarettes and were refused.  They were hit with a bottle as a result and only the local paper has reported this.  Not being gay the major networks are not interested.  How many such assaults have there been over the weekend?  How many in Sheffield, Edinburgh, Norwich, Cardiff or any other large or small town which get no or at best little coverage?  They get little because they are normal people in the usual normal ned situations, coming out of pubs, at football games or domestic incidents, no gays involved so it does not sell.
I am not convinced these neds cared about the girls being gay, they were looking for trouble, they picked on the weak, they cared not who or what they were as long as they were weak and they considered they could get away with an attack.  Possibly not all were keen on fighting, usually one or two lead and the rest follow.  Unfortunate for the two girls in this situation but unfortunate for others this gang may have attacked yet have not succeeded as yet in getting the press on their side.
It is a funny slanted world in which we live.


Friday 7 June 2019

Books!


The first thing to note about this book is the lack of personal info re the author.  A Google check gives little away.  He is 'controversial,' writes occasionally for the 'Scotsman,' the right wing unionist paper, and has failed to be elected to either Holyrood or Westminster.  He writes lots of books on Scotland but only arrived in Edinburgh in 1975, when I left.  Why so little info?
Usually people criticise a writer, I found only one woman doing so, no info on him, his lifestyle, the company he keeps, this is surprising.  Or should we read between the lines?
The book itself, some 388 pages of small font, begins in the distant past when earth movements left volcano's and passing ice flows shaping the city.  From either of the two towering rocks, 'Castle Rock' or 'Arthur's Seat' we can see two more in the distance, one above North Berwick and the other across the Forth near Leven.  Redundant volcano's later used as fortifications by passing generations with 'Castle Rock becoming the home of Scotlnd's greatest city.
The sloping ledge which runs from the castle down to Holyrood Palace enabled a city to arise but the slope on either side also led to towering 'skyscrapers' long before New York thought of them.
Fry leads us through the growth of the city, ensuring his views are made clear each time, from the struggle of the Scots Kings to own the Lothian's and create a border, through the growth of the Canongate, the 1707 riots when England usurped Scots freedom, the '75 rebellion and the changes that followed as the new town arrived and up unto recent times.
It would be interesting to compare his book with that of other authors.  There is much interesting detail within but is his interpretation correct.  A second view would be good.  That said it is worth a read, he has clearly spent much time in the Central Library studying his subject and deserves to be read.  I must look for another viewpoint however.


Another Edinburgh book but slightly different.  This one concerns a Lawyer studying in Edinburgh who formed the First Foot-ball Club in 1824.  A lot of research has gone into discovering the author, not a man I would wish to associate with I must say, those he played with and their life afterwards.
Football of one sort or another has been played everywhere since man first kicked a ball.  Present day football was famously organised by the Hooray Henry's at Cambridge when they finally agreed on a form of rules they mostly accepted.  The arrogance of the English leads them to claim they began football while we all know the truth.
Forms of football were apparently played in Edinburgh schools.  That is middle class and 'toffs' schools as the majority of kids were working from the day they were born and schooling, let alone time to play football, was a pipe-dream.  While at university John Hope began to play in the fields around foot-ball with his mates, all from university.  John was meant to be a lawyer, his notes which are the foundation of the book detail every penny spent over the years.  Names of all, subs paid, and costs of ball and hire of field are all noted with precision, as a lawyer would do!
However John became one of those Christian types and a middle class Victorian one at that!  This did not stop the games, indeed he went on throughout his life to encourage people, especially the young and poor, to play all sorts of games and spent much money in helping them.  His personality meant that he was kind but a bit of a bore also and he never married.  With his money and legal position he would be attractive to some but romance never blossomed.
The 'foot-ball club' died in time but not before many men had passed through John's notebooks.  At the end of this book details of the men who joined are added and it is interesting to note that while almost all are middle class, wealthy, in professional jobs, many were medical men, the majority died in their 50's and a few long before this.  Only three or four made it to 90.  Even the healthiest smoked too much, suffered frequent illness which could not then be cured and the hazards of missionary or serving the Raj in far off places ended many a life at that time.
1824 is 50 years before the Heart of Midlothian and many other football teams as we know them today came into being.  This book reveals the desire for sch games long before their birth.  Indeed it was increasing wealth, shorter hours and half day Saturday after the 1860's that led to an expanse of all sorts of sporting endeavours for all classes.  John Hope would be glad he enabled many to participate long before this even if it cost him much money.  


Thursday 6 June 2019

D-Day Commemorations


It may be you have had enough of D-Day for a bit, I certainly found the Cathedral service too much to put up with, organ music is not my thing sorry.  I went out to see if the local lads had done anything to commemorate the event but nothing was to be seen here.  Possibly round at the war memorial there was something.  Most Legion men here are Korean and after not WW2 however.


As always there is much slop talked about these men.  Too much of the 'Our Boys,' 'Heroes,' and 'Brave men all,' came to me who had little comprehension of what these men really felt.  Growing up amongst men who served, and as kids hearing only 'Boys Own' stories rather than the bad bits until we were older, we still got a glimpse of the 'stiff upper lip,' and the 'You have just got to get up and do it' attitude that so many had.  Few would want to do it again, few called themselves 'heroes,' most just thought it was a job that had to be done.  Hitler was bad, the nation was threatened, fight was the only way out.  None of that would sell a movie or a newspaper today.  
My father was not at D-Day, his artillery battalion was so far behind the lines they were in danger of coming upon the Japanese rear!   It has not been possible to find where they were but I know he crossed the Rhine.  He told our insurance man, remember when they collected weekly, "We sat for two days while the armour went over, then we crossed!"  His unit had a lot of ex-soldiers like himself in it, they knew the ways.
His attitude was like many men, go if you have to, seek peace not war.  He, like most in the craft crossing the rough sea, would not like to be near the 'death or glory' man, taking sensible care was the order of the day.  This left him shouting abuse at many an American movie during the late 50's.
At least British actors had been in the war.


It is interesting listening to the ex-servicemen.  No glory hunters, though one did try to chat up the Trump woman, all spoke sensibly about war and what they did, downplaying their part often and avoiding glory.  One clearly still upset about the killing he participated in, 'fire first or die' attitude shared by most.  Like those from the Great War these men tend not to be free with their many experiences, most of what they saw remains in their heads. 
Some, like Spike Milligan, told their stories, a good way to get it out of the system is to write down, longhand, the tale and sort things out in the head.  Many did this but like Spike they either 'jazzed it up' as he did or avoided the 'too tough' bits altogether.  Some things must die with us.
I was conscious of the welcome the old men w ere being given while as dad pointed out in 1946 he was given a suit, a hat, a few pounds, told "Thanks" now get on with your life.  There was no help for him or the several million others who may have had problems.  If dad had them it never showed but many never forgot their experiences, especially in the front line.  Being a bit further back allows you to enjoy war a bit more, many did of course, and the chances of survival are greater if not guaranteed.  

 
Lots of talk has been about the emotions of the men on the boats.  With many small craft sea sickness spoiled the emotions somewhat as suffering leaves you with other things to concentrate on. There must be apprehension, especially for those with no experience, dear must control you but once the doors open the NCO's take over and training kicks in.  The confusion on some beaches compares with a swift landing on others, each would have the adrenalin running for different reasons.  I would fear more if there was no opposition while wondering what they were up to.  At least under fire you know you need to just hide!  Men were killed, 4,450 or so that day and a great deal more wounded however out of 150,000 this was a good result.  The death toll would rise as they headed inland and opposition grew.   Winston Churchill was mighty relieved at the days result as it meant the war was heading for an end and the danger of losing maybe 90,000 dead lay heavy on him as Gallipoli was always on his mind.  This day was the last great British military moment, from this day on the Empire was dead.  Two other powers had come to the fore and only the 'Daily Mail' and 'Express' reader miss what has been lost.


Wednesday 5 June 2019

Dakota


The day has been spent filling the TV screen with commemorations for D-Day and watching DC-3 'Dakota' aircraft lifting themselves into the skies to deliver parachutists into France.  This is a plane I have always liked.  Something simple yet attractive about it.  These have been flying nearly 80 years!
So far the commemoration has been filled with the usual dignitaries, even Trump behaved, old men in their 90's remembering, often badly and some willing to party and misbehave if they could, and considering the thoughts of those who 75 years ago prepared to invade France.
Sadly the flight of Dakota's  passed 15 miles away from here and all we saw was a glimpse of a fighter aircraft that roared past not long ago.  Possibly the Hurricane but difficult to tell from this angle.  Not that long ago all such aircraft came over our heads but they sadly changed the air route to benefit holiday makers returning from Espania to Stansted.  Most annoying.
Tomorrow we will have more of such memories as the commemoration in France takes place.  

 
I ventured no further than the town for the needful.  Just as well as the cloud cover made taking pictures difficult and there is little to see here anyway.  Unlike the other day when the sun shone and poppies bloomed.


Tuesday 4 June 2019

London Musings


One thing I found strange about Saturday was how much I enjoyed London.  This I did not expect.  In my mind it was still overcrowded, pushy, selfish and far too busy, which indeed it remains but even so I found I quite enjoyed it.
One problem I always hated, increasingly as time went by, was the sheer distance you have to travel sometimes to get somewhere.  While public transport is generally good it takes for ever to get about.  When working in North Finchley it could take nearly two hours to get home, travel at night via the 'tube' could take just as long including changes on the way.  For one day it was OK but to do this regularly does my head in.  I suppose the travel being straight forward on Saturday eased my little head in this.  I also found the train busy but not too much so that helped, bus travel might have been slower with traffic problems.  
London does offer a great deal however when living there work interfered with this.  Having spent a week amongst the miserable workforce the thought of trailing out somewhere lessened somewhat if distance or rain or cost was involved.  The need to eat, buy food or other essentials all cut into the time available, this along with the need to pay for everything lessened the enjoyment of London.
At the weekend I began to think how much of me remains in London.  Possibly, like so many others, I remain in 'my London' not the one that actually exists around me.  It seemed to me living there was not such a bad idea after all, there is so much to do, so many places to go, a huge city all around.  
Reality however demands half a million for a poky flat, huge costs to live, and then the reality of Londoners themselves.  Daily life in reality is not like that in the imagination.
London however does make this area look boring even if we can actually see the sky!