Watling Street by John Higgs

 Been quite a while since I last wrote a book review, but that doesn't mean I haven't been reading. Quite the opposite, in fact. It's just that I have continued to read a lot of Hilary Mantel's output, and so far, every one has been worthy of 5 stars. Other books have been less worthy of any sort of recommendation.

However, I took a chance on a book that I'd never heard of, from a firm that handles end of runs and limited appeal books. This is Postscript and the description in their catalogue intrigued me,

Watling Street is known historically as the road from Dover to Chester, built during Roman times. However, Mr. Higgs sets out to prove that the road actually pre-dates that, and may indeed have continued on to Anglesey in Wales.

He travels the length of it, exploring notable places (like Milton Keynes!) within 5 miles either side of the road, and covers both well-known and lesser known historical details.

His writing style is warm and engaging, and I'm very inclined to purchase his other books on the strength of it.

This is a book that covers both historical facts, and the historical basis of the myths that these islands abound with.

Lifting my spirits........

 So, there has been so much isolation and restriction on our lives over the past couple of years, that it has had quite a detrimental effect on my mental health. Between boredom, poor health, spending too much time stuck in the house with all that entails, I have decided to make some positive changes to my life style.

I love cooking, but sadly, TOH doesn't necessarily want to eat what I want to cook, or what are the healthiest foods. So I thought, why do I have to eat what he does? We eat out a lot when the weather is good for riding, which means I can generally find something suitable for me. At home, I've been exploring different cuisines, and I either cook food for me and freeze the extra for later, or I pop the surplus round to the offspring to try.

Craftwork - I found myself with two huge sacks of wool and cotton balls left over from various projects. So I set to over the winter months and made various throws for our sofas, and various items for the charity shop over the road.

We quite often use a small cafe, run by a very nice family, who between them, have 4 girls of varying ages, and several assorted Barbie dolls. So I got myself a cheap second-hand one off Ebay, and started using the remnants to make clothes for her. I finally had a collection of over 100 outfits, everything from knickers to ball gowns. I took them down to the cafe, and the girls divided them up between themselves.

Other hobbies, I've been using YouTube to explore pieces of music that were unfamiliar to me, and I've found some real crackers to add to my playlist. I also 'found' Randy Rainbow - probably the funniest musical parody maker of the American political system. I just wish he'd come over here and let loose his wit on our poor excuse for a Government. I've just started to read his first book 'Playing With Myself'. If you watch his videos, that title will make sense

Finally, I realised that I actually need some serious 'me' time. With all that has happened, accommodation prices have rocketed to the point where I really cannot justify going away by myself anymore. I also need to get more physical exercise, but I'm not one of those people who can just go for a meaningless walk for the sole purpose of fitness.

I need purpose and something to distract my mind. Then deep joy, I came across QuizTrails These are little books, each one focused on a specific local town, which have a set route to follow and questions to find the answers to as you follow the trail. There are also lovely little explanations and enhancements. At the moment, they only cover Kent, and a couple of towns just over the border into East Sussex. So far, I've done three - all places I thought I knew well, but now realise I don't! I'm so impressed with them, I've purchased the entire range, and aim to do one every week. 

I ride to the town, park up, spend 2-3 hours walking around for up to 2 miles, answering the questions and taking lots of photographs (to be found on My British Isles blog) I then find an attractive route home. For example, when I did the Sandwich one, I rode over there (about 40 miles), parked up and did the trail, plus a little extra because the weather was so lovely. I then took a different route home, around the coast. That was a round trip of just over 100 miles and a 3 mile walk

I'm going to enjoy these!

New life for old

 Over the past couple of years, I have been closely following the restoration of a little cottage in Derbyshire. Why? Well, I came across it by accident one day, and I couldn't believe that it would ever be anything other than a complete ruin.

This is it. It's called Aquaduct Cottage, and it lays at the junction of the old Cromford Canal with a side arm that went out to a mill. The land around it once belonged to Florence Nightingale's family, and is now a Wildlife and nature reserve. It gets its' name from the fact that it stands at one end of the aquaduct that carries the canal over the River Derwent.

So totally ruinous, with trees growing up through the brickwork, no roof, and walls close to crumbling away, it appeared to be lost forever.

Yeah, right, I hadn't reckoned on the efforts of Mr. Ron Compton and his merry band of volunteers. Charitable donations have been sought, materials bought, and volunteers trained in the arts of stuff like old-fashioned lime mortaring.

Now? well, you wouldn't believe it. It nears completion, and the Nature Reserve will have its' own visitor centre, complete with a new staircase up into the heart of the wild wood, and gardens filled with native plants. 

Who'd a-thought it?

Hopefully, I'll be able to visit it for myself next year. Meanwhile, a round of applause for all the hard work is due! 

Hilary Mantel rules!

 'Virgins are so rare these days, they are sending unicorns out to find them'. I'm currently working my way through Hilary Mantel's historical output, and with words like that, why wouldn't I? Miss Mantel is a superb wordsmith, and I will give a due resume when I have completed the Wolf Hall trilogy (I'm currently on book 2, and at over 600 pages each, there's a lot of reading still to do!)

UPDATE: I have now read 5 of Miss Mantel's books, and I can't praise them highly enough. The 3 volumes of the Cromwell trilogy present a massive commitment, being around 600 pages in each volume. But I doubt there has ever been such an in-depth realisation of Henry VIII's marriage tribulations.

The other 2 were of a much lighter aspect, with one being downright comical. My suggestion would be to read one of the smaller stand-alone volumes first, before tackling the enormous trilogy!

Definitely a 5/5 for all of her books

Annual Garage Update

Can't quite remember when I last did an update on our garage, but I think possibly only 1 machine has changed since then.  Dick eventually admitted that his days of riding heavtweight bikes like the CrossRunner have come to an end. His age, and the state of his foot means he has gone back to a CB500X. This will be the third one he's had, and the latest variant has considerable improvements over the previous versions. Only time will tell if he keeps it.............

Meanwhile, I'm still loving my 650. It really is the closest thing to my old Hornet that I've ridden since. It's a little heavier than I would like, but as long as it's manageable, I'll ride it. All we need now is permission to ride it further than I have been doing lately............

One thing I have had to buy for it, is a new tankbag. I've had a little Oxford one (my equivalent of a ladies' handbag) for the best part of 30 years, and it has finally given up the ghost. Dread to think how many hundreds of miles that little bag has done. I've used it everday, and it has been all over the country on countless petrol tanks. I've got a new Honda one on order. Let's hope it lasts as well. If it does, it will probably outlast me!

Back to the garage - the two little bikes remain the same. There really is no need to change either of them. Twinkle, our little CB125F, is the perfect tool for running around town, doing shopping and running errands, and is the perfect companion for Chunky Munky for those days in the sun when all you want to do is run around the country lanes and enjoy the peace and quiet of the countryside

Incidentally, that picture was taken in the centre of Hamstreet. Just out of the picture is a cannonball. Why, I hear you ask? Well, Hamstreet is twinned with the little town of Therouanne in France. Therouanne was once a city with a cathedral which was sacked by the troops of Henry V. The stone cannonball was a gift from the mayor of the twin town, presented with the words 'You can have your cannonball back!

So, there you are - an update on my garage and a history lesson combined! Aren't you lucky!

Spike Milligan

So, today is the anniversary of the death of the greatest comedian ever to grace these shores with his presence. Let us celebrate him with a quote from 'Puckoon', one of the funniest books ever written..........."Well, he thought, you can fool some of the people all the time and all the people some of the time, which is just long enough to be President of the United States"

As one of my friends said, 'Long may he rest in peace. It must be pure chaos where ever he is now.'

Aberfan

Today is the anniversary of the day a village in South Wales died. I'm not going to write about it here, because if you don't already know about it, you can Google it. I'm just going to post a small poem that echoes what I remember feeling at the time, and which, for me, was another nail in the coffin of faith beliefs.

written in 1966 by local poet, Ron Cook.

Where was God that fateful day
At the place called Aberfan.
When the world stood still and the mountain
Moved through the folly of mortal man.
In the morning hush so cold and stark
And grey skys overhead.
When the mountain moved its awesome mass
To leave generations of dead.
Where was God the people cried
Their features grim and bleak.
Somewhere on their knees in prayer
And many could not speak.
The silence so still like something unreal
Hung on the morning air.
And people muttered in whisper tones
Oh God this isn’t fair.
The utter waste of childhood dreams
Of hope and aspirations.
A bitter lesson to be learnt for future generations

But where was God the people cried.
The reason none could say
For when the mountain moved its awesome mass.
God looked the other way.

New blog

I've been busy creating a new blog, that will deal with the history of the British Isles.

It's still very sketchy at the moment, but if you're interested in a history that will dovetail with both this blog, and My British Isles, you will find it here

A last sprig of Broom (plant-a-genet)

All this fuss about whether Richard III should be buried in York or Leicester! Well, anywhere is better than a car park! Of course he should be buried in Leicester. Just because he was of the House of York, does not give the City of York rights over his remains. After all, the Duke of Norfolk lives at Arundel in Sussex, Devonshire lives at Chatsworth House in Derbyshire - and I don't recall Queen Victoria being expatriated to Hanover!
Burying him in Leicester could also bring benefits to the town; something that York has less need of, having more than enough history and tourist attractions of its' own. York's claims to the body are irrelevant.

However, this article is not about Richard III, but his purported illegitimate son, Richard - known locally as Diccon. Living but a couple of miles from Eastwell Manor and the ruins of its church of St. Mary, I'm well familiar with both the legend and the supposed tomb of Diccon.

Eastwell parish records state that Richard Plantagenet was buried there on 22/12/1550. His tale was laid out in a letter written in 1733 by local clergyman, Dr. Thomas Brett.

The incumbent of Eastwell Manor at the time, the Earl of Winchelsea, stumbled across the fact whilst researching information on his own family, and those facts concurred with a tale handed down through his family.
Prior to Eastwell Manor being built, the site was occupied by Wilmington Manor, which was gifted by the Duke of Norfolk, before he died at Bosworth Field, to the Myle family. Wilmington Manor was pulled down to make way for the new house of Eastwell Manor.

When Eastwell Manor was being constructed in the 16th. century, the owner, Sir Thomas Moyle became curious about the chief bricklayer, who, whenever they took a break, would take himself apart from the others and read books in Latin.
After much questioning, Diccon told Sir Thomas that he had been raised by a Latin schoolamster, and that every quarter, a rich man, who always stressed that he was no relative to the boy, would come and pay for his keep and schooling, and see to his general well-being.

When he was about 15, the rich man took him to a 'fine great house' where he was introduced to a great man wearing a Star and Garter. Diccon's description of both men point to them being the Duke of Norfolk (former owner of Wilmington Manor) and King Richard III. The man spoke to him kindly and gave him some money.

Later, he was taken to Bosworth Field in Leicestershire, where he saw Richard again. Richard told Diccon that he was his father, and that on the morrow he would be fighting for his crown, and that if he lost that, he would lose his life also. The King said that if he won, he would acknowledge Diccon as his son, but that if he lost, Diccon was to tell nobody who he was, or of this meeting.

Richard had good reason to fear for Diccon's life. He had several illegitimate children, of whom he had acknowledged two, John and Katherine. After the Battle of Bosworth Field, Henry VII, the victor, at first treated John well, but then susequently imprisoned him for a long time before finally executing him.

After the death of his father, Diccon apprenticed himself to a bricklayer, but never lost his love of reading and learning. Sir Thomas Moyle was deeply moved and offered him a living and residence in the big house, but Diccon merely asked permission to build himself a one-room house in a field, where he lived quietly until his death in 1550.

Had Diccon been 16 at the date of Bosworth (1485), he would have been 81 at the time of his death. Quite an old man for that time, but far from impossible, given his good upbringing and the fact that Moyle probably took care of him for his life's duration.

There are further records of both a Plantagenet Well and Plantagenet Cottage in the Eastwell area, and in the churchyard of St. Mary's stands a tomb ascribed to Richard Plantagenet.

Much has been made of the fact that this tomb probably pre-dates Diccon's death by 50-60 years, and people pooh-pooh the idea that it is indeed his final resting place, saying that it is almost certainly the tomb of Sir Walter Moyle, who died circa 1480. I don't disagree...........

.........but, consider this. Sir Thomas Moyle firmly believed that Diccon was who he said he was. Therefore, when he died, would have felt a compulsion to honour him in some way. Building an overtly ostentatious tomb for an old bricklayer would have been both inappropriate and risky. There was still a great deal of ill-feeling towards the House of York even 60 years on. So how about a commemmorative slab in the side of the local landowner's tomb?

Maybe Diccon is buried alongside the tomb of Sir Walter; it is not entirely inconceivable that his body was placed inside the same tomb.

I certainly feel that there is more than sufficient local knowledge and belief to warrant further investigation and excavation to be performed.

And now they have the proven bones of Richard III, a DNA connection could easily prove the veracity of this intriguing local tale