This England Winter 2013

THIS ENGLAND

The Patience Strong Poem

For all who love our green and pleasant land

WINTER 2013 Quarterly £4.60

Volume Forty Six Number Four WINTER 2013

Thaw

Above: Morning sun in winter on Ramshaw Rocks between Buxton and Leek in the Derbyshire Peak District.

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Quarterly

When the sun shines through the clouds and sheds a golden glow — on the hard and frosted surface of the dazzling snow — Its gentle warmth will penetrate each frozen crystal flake.

And in the brilliance of its smile a sheet of ice will break.

And human smiles work wonders, too. Like sunshine on the snow — a frigid nature will respond and melt in friendship’s glow — and thaw beneath the warmth of love, of sympathy and trust — softening with kindly words the cold, unhuman crust — of bitterness and grievances that harden with each year. How often unexpectedly a look will charm and cheer!

It takes some time for snow to melt beneath the sun’s bright glow — so do not be discouraged if response seems faint and slow. Love’s strange magic works beneath the surface. None can guess — how its unseen rays go out to comfort and to bless.

CHRIS HERRING

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Enjoy England Throughout the Year “The pictures are nicer than ever, which is quite an achievement.” — D. E. MOORE, PRIORS MARSTON, SOUTHAM, WARWICKSHIRE.

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elebrate the scenic splendour of our green and pleasant land with This England’s Country Calendar 2014. A selection of 15 superb photographs takes you on a marvellous journey across the English counties from Westmorland to Devon and Dorset to Yorkshire. The wonderful views capture the breathtaking beauty of the Actual size when open — 17 " x 11" English countryside amid all the seasons.

Each monthly section includes verses of poetry, and details of important events — saints’ days, anniversaries, bank holidays etc. There’s space beside each day for you to jot down your own appointments. Days and dates are printed in contrasting colours enabling you to see the weeks at a glance.

For more than 30 years it has been one of the best-selling calendars in Britain, but it is exclusive and only available direct from This England. Next year’s calendar is bound to be a sell-out once again and if you take advantage of our special discount (see below) the price is reduced.

This England’s Country Calendar 2014 is the perfect gift to send to anyone who cherishes England, and one which will continue to give pleasure throughout the year. Code: TSD14

“Once again you have given us beautiful pictures. I knew I would not be disappointed in the This England calendar, but how do you find so many breathtaking views?”

— MRS. HUGHES, BASINGSTOKE, HAMPSHIRE. JOHN BLAKE

The Historic Homes of England Blaise Hamlet, Henbury, Bristol

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n a departure from the stately homes, manor houses and castles usually featured in this series, we come to something rather more cosy, but none the less historic. Just four miles north of the city of Bristol, is the charming Blaise Hamlet. Its nine quaint cottages surround a traditional village green with a sundial and water pump.

The hamlet was the idea of John Scandrett Harford, a banker and philanthropist, who lived at nearby Blaise Castle House. He wanted to provide accommodation for his retired employees and commissioned John Nash — later famous for his work on Buckingham Palace and the Royal Pavilion, Brighton — as the architect.

Built between 1810 and 1811 the cottages represent one of the earliest examples of a planned community. They have since been awarded Grade-I listed status and are now under the care of the National Trust. The rooms within each cottage are identical, but the external appearance is unique even down to the eye-catching chimneys. The architectural scholar, Nikolaus Pevsner, described Blaise Hamlet as “the ne plus ultra of the Picturesque movement”.

Today, the cottages are still occupied and are not open to the public, but visitors are welcome to the hamlet and the village green.

To find out more information about visiting telephone 01275 461900 or go to www.nationaltrust.org.uk .

Makes an ideal gift for Christmas.

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Winter 2013 . . . is a quarterly journal published in Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter, for all who love our green and pleasant land.

Annual subscription rates: (4 quarterly editions, inc. postage and packing): U.K. addresses £18.40; Overseas addresses £25.50 (by Airmail) Personal dollar cheques accepted from USA at $48 per subscription; Canada $48; Australia $53; New Zealand $63.

Next four UK Publication Dates (approx): Spring 2014: 19th Feb.; Summer 2014: 21st May; Autumn 2014: 20th Aug.; Winter 2014: 5th Nov. Editor: Stephen Garnett Deputy Editor: Angeline Wilcox Assistant Editors: Susan Kelleher, Peter Worsley Media: Edmund Whitehouse Production: Ann Augur, Keren Bowers Music Editor: Percy Bickerdyke Recording Engineer: Eric Holmes Advertising: Bryn Piper Despatch: Helen Whitman Editorial Secretary: Christine Freeman Head of Publishing: Neil O’Brien Please note that we now have a new Sales and Subscriptions address (see accompanying letter).

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We apologise for any inconvenience.

This England, PO Box 326, Sittingbourne, Kent, ME9 8BR. Telephone: UK 0844 815 0022 Overseas +44 1795 412823 E-mail: sales@thisengland.co.uk Internet: www.thisengland.co.uk Editorial: This England, The Lypiatts, Lansdown Road, Cheltenham, Gloucestershire, GL50 2JA. Telephone: UK 01242 225780 Overseas +44 (0) 1242 225780 E-mail: editor@thisengland.co.uk Articles and photographs submitted for publication must be accompanied by a stamped addressed e­ nvelope for return if unsuitable. Whilst all reasonable care will be taken, the Publishers do not accept responsibility for loss of, or damage to material sent in for consideration. Address all submissions to the Editor at This England’s Editorial Office.

Hoar frost covers the trees as winter lays siege to Ludlow Castle in Shropshire MIKE HAYWARD

Page Contents

WINTER 2013

12 The Historic Homes of England: Blaise Hamlet, Henbury, Bristol 14 England is Poetry 10 The Editor’s Letter 12 A Royal History of England: King Henry IV 15 Sandwich Board 16 Literary Landscapes of England: Sapper (H.C. McNeile) & Bulldog Drummond 18 Portrait of a Village: Langton-by-Spilsby, Lincolnshire 20 Patriotic Pedal Power: Pashley Cycles 24 Notes from a Cottage Garden 26 Nelson’s Column: Keeping an eye on the nation 27 Favourite Authors 28 Ghost Stories for Christmas 30 Brewed in Smethwick 34 Poets’ Corner 36 The Swinging Sixties — Starring Michael Caine 38 English Schools: The Urswick School

40 Post Box: Letters to the Editor 41 Silver Cross of St. George: The Bradshaws 46 Forget-Me-Nots: The day the music came alive 48 Carols, Crackers and the King’s Speech 49 Made in England: Middleport Pottery 50 Cakes, Crosses...and a Lady on a White Horse 51 Christian England: St. Peter’s Church, Heysham 52 In England — Now!: The Unthanks 54 It’s your turn!: Board Game Treasures & Fun 56 London Pride: Whatever happened to all the characters?

58 Farewell to the Typewriter 61 Mind Your Language!

62 London Lights: The Sound of Music 64 The Race 66 Cornucopia 70 English Books 74 English Diary 84 Thaw

John Blake Doreen Beer Stephen Garnett Paul James —

Peter Worsley John Ketteringham Angeline Wilcox Rosemary Pettigrew George Nelson George Nelson Stuart Millson Mark Young Susan Kelleher Angeline Wilcox Rob Wickham/ Sam Robson —

Stephen Garnett Bob Rogers Angela Wilson —

Doris Woodliff —

Jack Jakeman Angeline Wilcox Robin Ollington Stephen Roberts Adam Jacot de Boinod Edmund Whitehouse John Watson — — —

Patience Strong

This England — read by two million patriots all over the World!

Printed in England by Webmart Ltd, OX26 4UL Distributed by Marketforce, The Blue Fin Building,110 Southwark Street, London, SE1 0SU. © 2013 This England Publishing Ltd.

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Source/Contributor

THIS ENGLAND, Winter, 2013

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Archive adverts for some of the early Pashley carriers and ice cream cycles.

Patriotic Pedal Power:

Founder of the business William Rath Pashley (far left with his son Dick) and his family pictured in 1928.

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Pashley Cycles

hink of Stratford-upon-Avon and the chances are that it will conjure up images of Shakespeare and our rich theatrical heritage. But there is another star performer in this charming Warwickshire town — one that is keeping the wheels of industry turning. You might not be aware, but the Bard’s birthplace is home to England’s longest-established bicycle manufacturer.

Pashley is one of only three cycle makers left in the UK and it is a company that takes immense pride in its English roots.

All the bicycles and tricycles produced by this small, privately owned enterprise are traditionally and lovingly hand-built at the Masons Road factory. Each of the 160 models is a supreme example of true craftsmanship, timehonoured design and reassuring English quality.

If your style of cycling is rather more sedate than the likes of Sir Bradley Wiggins, Victoria Pendleton and Sir Chris Hoy, then you would be perfectly suited to a Pashley. This is the world of “sit up and beg” bikes with wickerwork baskets and cheery sounding bells. These are classic and traditional bicycles that positively ooze refinement from the tips of their handlebars to the spokes of their wheels. Pedalling along on a Pashley takes you back to a less-hurried era long before Lycra and safety helmets were part of the cyclist’s kit.

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It was William ‘Rath’ Pashley who founded the company in Birmingham in 1926. Having served as a despatch rider during the First World War, this former apprentice with Austin Motors manufactured a variety of different bikes most notably the carrier cycles ridden by delivery boys. Perhaps best known were the “Stop Me and Buy One” tricycles used by the Wall’s ice cream sellers. Supplying businesses is something that Pashley continues to do and among their worldwide commercial customers are the Royal Mail, BP, Toyota and numerous food and drink companies.

When William retired in the 1960s his son, Dick, took over and the company relocated to a new factory in Stratford. More cycles were added to the range including tandems, children’s tricycles and even unicycles.

Today, although the Pashley family is no longer active in the business, the current management team — led for 20 years

by Adrian Williams — keep in contact with them. It remains a close-knit company with a loyal, enthusiastic workforce of 54 employees. One member of staff, Production Manager John Kerby, has worked there for 45 years. There is also still a family feel to the business with Adrian’s daughter Chloe working

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as the Brand Manager.

“People seem to think that we’re a much bigger company because we’ve become quite well-known,” she says. “But being a small team has enabled us to keep our overheads as low as possible and that’s why we’ve survived.”

During its 87year history British manufacturing has been at the heart of the business. It has always built its bikes in Britain and has a policy of using British suppliers.

Even though Pashley’s cycles are unashamedly nostalgic in style the company is forward thinking and innovation is key to its success. Classic designs are improved upon with the latest technology and new models are developed. “Different by design…distinctive by nature” is the mantra at the Masons Road factory where 10,000 bikes are built annually — an average of 50 a day.

The cycle frames are constructed from steel tubes using a traditional method known as “lugging”. Stages of the production process involve brazing (joining the steel tubes with brass), fettling and sand blasting (to thoroughly clean the frame). Next come the painting and lacquering with the frame being dried in an oven. When it has cooled the graphics are applied and the assembly of the cycle begins. The allimportant components such as wheels, brakes, bells and baskets are then added and a gleaming, hand-built Pashley is ready for despatch.

These are cycles that are built to order so there is usually a waiting time of a few weeks, but the prospect of a bespoke bike enhances its desirability.

Sales are increasing and, with an annual turnover of £41⁄2 million, Pashley are certainly on a winning ride. Managing

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Above: In the factory past and present: fitting wheels to a frame (left) and the fabrication of a frame (right). The finished products: the Britannia (top left), the Princess (below left) and the Guv’nor (top right).

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Ghost Stories for Christmas

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n the late 1960s and early ’70s (the era when the BBC produced fields, wide skies, little copses and woods, with the mere itself drama of real substance), the Corporation brought to our screens attracting wildfowl and wild birds of all kinds. Pheasants and partridges are found in abundance – as are the shooting parties a spine-tingling, much-looked-forward-to seasonal treat: the which flock to the district during the season. On one smaller Christmas ghost tale. The hour-long dramas were often based wildfowl lake — dark and semi-stagnant, with rickety planked upon the writings of M.R. James (1862-1936) — one of Britain’s walkways along its rim, and surrounded by thick woodland foremost exponents of supernatural story-telling — although Charles — a mild sense of unease creeps in; so much so that you look Dickens’s terrifying The Signalman was also included in the series. forward to rejoining the path back to the road! The church Montague Rhodes James was a fascinating figure. Born at there is set apart from the hamlet which Goodnestone Rectory in East Kent, James went M.R. James and (above) snow on the dunes it serves, its kindly presence in the on to become one of the foremost mediaeval at Sea Palling in Norfolk.

CHRIS HERRING landscape creating a sense of spiritual scholars of his age — achieving high office peace. Yet for James, the Suffolk coast in the academic world, as Director of the and country suggested mists and mystery Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge, Provost — ideal material for the television of the town’s King’s College, and of Eton. directors and screenwriters who brought James was also a leading expert on the early James’s stories into our living rooms. history of the Bible, and was fascinated by Two of the most famous adaptations archaeology, legends, ancient English kings, were Whistle, and I’ll Come to You saints and hermits. It has been observed that (directed by Jonathan Miller in 1968, his stories contain a peculiar atmosphere and starring Sir Michael Hordern), and of “cranky scholarship”: of unusual and A Warning to the Curious, directed by unearthly happenings taking place in remote, Lawrence Gordon Clark in 1972, and rural English settings, especially East starring those well-loved British actors, Anglia. Obsessive antiquarians or elderly Peter Vaughan and Clive Swift (You clergymen are often his central characters, may remember Peter Vaughan from his and a pronounced feeling of gloomy rural role in Porridge as the prison godfather, Anglicanism suffuses stories such as A Harry Grout!). In A Warning to the Warning to the Curious — one of the Curious, an amateur archaeologist, a author’s best-known creations.

Mr. Paxton (Vaughan), discovers the For much of his life, James lived at the whereabouts of an Anglo-Saxon crown Rectory at Great Livermere in Suffolk, which has been buried under a sandy just a short drive from Bury St. Edmunds, mound for centuries. Yet the crown but still a forgotten, quiet place of wide

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is said to have magical properties, which, if removed from its royal resting place will bring disaster to the country — and to those who disturb it. Unfortunately for Paxton (desperate to make his name for one great discovery) he is pursued by a spectral presence: the ghost of the man who assumed the role of guardian of the crown. Digging for lost treasure certainly had its difficulties for James’s character!

The locations used in the film include a scene much-loved by This England readers, and by the magazine’s long-serving artist-in-residence, the late Colin Carr: Happisburgh lighthouse and the village church of St. Mary’s. The producers also used the services of the historic North Norfolk Railway, and the fictional town of “Seaburgh” (at least in James’s original story) is based upon the East Suffolk town of Aldeburgh.

‘His eye is caught by a figure in the distance’ For Mr. Paxton, desperate to begin work with his trowel and shovel, the district slowly reveals its secrets. He scours the locality for St. Mary’s Church, Happisburgh.

RON GREGORY clues, taking to the open road using a bicycle loaned to him by the waiter and “boots” at the hotel at which he is staying — his perambulations taking him closer and closer like a bark from a ferocious dog, jolts him into consciousness… to the heart of the mystery. He pauses at the church and sees and then, one night in his room, he receives physical proof of above the entrance the heraldic sign of the “three crowns which a world that he always mocked and dismissed. Reduced to a guard the coast”. The rector appears, and points Paxton to the gibbering wreck, intellectual reason is washed away, and the corner of the churchyard in which the self-appointed guardian professor is left a shattered man. Another cautionary tale by of the treasure is buried. The vicar expresses a sense, almost this most intriguing and prolific author. of resignation, concerning the superstitious beliefs of the local The churchyard visited by Parkins, half crumbling into people, but shivers at the thought of the legend of the crowns. the sea, suggests decay and the inevitable triumph of unruly “If you’ll excuse me, I am a little cold…” natural forces; and there are moments when Michael Hordern’s Paxton is left alone, but his eye is caught by a figure in the character, even when completely alone, nervously looks over distance, close to the sea — a disturbing sighting which occurs his shoulder – his expression changing, and troubled. By the again and again as the tension mounts. end, we are left in no doubt as to the potentially destructive In Whistle, and I’ll Come to You, Michael Hordern plays a nature of the occult — with the director, Jonathan Miller, rather pleased-with-himself academic summoning into existence a truly horrible (Professor Parkins) who decides to apparition: not a conventional Gothic ghost, enjoy a holiday (by himself) on the East in white Victorian robes, but a ragged thing Anglian coast. Logic, reason and science — like flotsam from the shore — rising into govern his mind, but when he discovers the air. a relic in a derelict churchyard on one The Christmas ghost stories were classics of his “trudges” across country, forces of their kind. Fortunately, they have been are unleashed about him which defy preserved by the British Film Institute on every instinct of his neat and orderly DVD, as examples of the best of TV drama. mind. He sees, half-buried in the soil, And their use of landscape — of deserted an interesting fragment of something beaches, coastal groynes that loom out of the or other, and returns to his lodgings to waves, and lighthouses and ancient churches clean it. The piece is a bone-whistle. He at the edge of England – suggest a tension puts the whistle to his lips. A thin, reedy and uncertainty which M. R. James (had he sound is heard, followed by a rushing lived into the age of television) would no of wind against the windows. The doubt have found very appealing! disturbance then subsides, but the peace A ghost story, always an enjoyable literary is only temporary. genre, is an even more satisfying experience The high-minded academic tries to if saved for a cold Christmas night, with a find repose at his very civilised hotel, glass of sloe gin near at hand, and with a but becomes haunted by disturbing candle flickering in the corner of the room!

STUART MILLSON dreams. A shocking sound, almost THIS ENGLAND, Winter, 2013

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The Swinging Sixties — starring

Michael Caine MIRRORPIX

south London boy, the son of a Billingsgate fish porter, had spent much of his childhood at the local cinema watching the exploits of the Lone Ranger. Seeing the Texan masked hero in action clearly made an impression on the young Maurice as it inspired his future career.

A polished performer off screen.

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COLLECTION T.C.D.

COLLECTION T.C.D.

he 1960s were the decade when London burst into life. A new vibrancy and energy drove the capital forward as youthful talent exploded onto the scene. Culture thrived amid the melting pot of creativity and ambition that bubbled within the metropolis. Suddenly, anything English acquired that extra cachet and became “hip and cool”. The way we spoke and dressed, our music, art, theatre and films, all were universally admired. The rest of the world seemed to revolve around London; we set the pace and everyone else followed.

Among the actors, musicians and designers who made their mark back then was a certain Maurice Micklewhite. Better known as Michael Caine this

Above and centre: in one of his most famous roles as Harry Palmer in The Ipcress File.

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Starting work in Wardour Street, the centre of the British film industry, he worked as an office boy at Peak Films before being called up for the Army in 1951. He served in Germany and Korea, but on his return he was determined to pursue his acting ambitions.

He became a jobbing actor in rep and after changing his name, thanks to the classic Bogart picture The Caine Mutiny, he eventually achieved his lucky break in films with A Hill in Korea (1956). He was subsequently cast in Zulu (1964), and found fame as the bespectacled spy Harry Palmer in The Ipcress File (1965). He reprised the character in A Funeral in Berlin (1966) and Billion Dollar Brain (1967). Other iconic roles were Alfie (1966), for which he received an Oscar nomination, and the classic caper The Italian Job (1969), famous for its cars as much as its cast, with Caine playing the nattily dressed crook Charlie Croker.

Throughout the next five decades he appeared in films such as Get Carter (1971), Sleuth (1972), The Man Who Would be

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REEL ART PRESS

PHOTOFEST

Suits you, sir! From the 1966 film Alfie.

A surprise for breakfast in Billion Dollar Brain.

that was destined to set the world alight. To quote his native Cockney parlance he was, and remains, “a diamond geezer” who has lit up the silver screen with a host of unforgettable characters that flicker brightly in audiences’ memories long after the final credits have rolled.

ANGELINE WILCOX

COLLECTION T.C.D.

Michael Caine: 1960s is published in hardback by Reel Art Press, 128pp, £19.95. For stockist information or to buy online visit www.reelartpress.com

B.F.I.

King (1975), The Eagle Has Landed (1976), A Bridge Too Far (1977), Shirley Valentine (1983) and The Rise and Fall of Little Voice (1998). Oscar success came as Best Supporting Actor in Hannah and Her Sisters (1986) and The Cider House Rules (1999).

As one of Britain’s favourite actors, both at home and in Hollywood, he has won countless awards and was knighted in 2000. This year he celebrated his 80th birthday and a new book has been published featuring rare and previously unseen photographs of the young film star in the Swinging Sixties.

Michael Caine: 1960s by Graham Marsh brings together an exceptional collection of images glimpsing this typically British film star, on and off screen, during this exciting era. He embodied the Sixties’ spirit with his youth, confidence, style and the new order of working-class talent

Above and right: A Funeral in Berlin, a document handover from Günter Meisner, and keeping an eye on things.

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he coin was pushed into the slot and it rattled away to its unknown destination flicking levers and triggering switches as it went and the machine was suddenly alive. Rows of buttons - numbers and letters - awaited the command, lighting up as they were chosen and setting the magic in motion.

A carousel of black plastic discs rolled and stopped, a mechanical arm pulled out one of their number, twisted it and brought it down onto the waiting turntable. The arm lowered the stylus and after a second of crackling a muchloved song boomed out, the deep bass and the drums taking on a new resonance as big speakers brought to life the music in a way a little transistor radio never could.

For a single coin our favourite artists played on demand and, in a backwater town in the Sixties, this was as close as we were ever going to get to seeing or hearing them perform live.

The musicians might never have included our small town on their itineraries but the instruments were there for all to see in the window of Williams’ Music Shop: shining electric guitars in sunburst red or gleaming white, their pick-ups and controls gleaming chrome; a bass guitar, the same shape as the one Paul McCartney played, was displayed on a stand, its four fat strings ready to lay down a rhythm for someone with the cash and a dream of stardom.

For us, 12- and 13-year-olds, there were dreams aplenty but not the faintest idea of how they could ever be made into reality.

We would avidly watch Top of the Pops on a Thursday evening; we could name every member of every group and sing every lyric of every song. Substituting cricket bats or tennis racquets

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for guitars and a wardrobe mirror for an audience we would, for a few short moments, cross the boundary between what was and what could be.

But then, on a cold evening in the depths of a particularly hard winter

The day the music came alive with the ploughed snow piled three feet high on the sides of the road where it glowed orange under the glare of the streetlamps…we heard something amazing!

As four of us trudged home, cold, damp and tired from a few hours’ sledging on a nearby hillside we passed the storage warehouse for the local cash and carry and from inside came music that couldn’t possibly have been generated by a machine. It was The Searchers at the height of their fame.

the unmistakeable sound of a band rehearsing and it pulled us irresistibly in.

With considerable effort we managed to drag a discarded workbench to a place under the high window and we climbed up to peer through. Wiping away years of grime we managed to see enough through the smudges to confirm our assumption. There was a real group in there, not a famous one, but still a real group, with real electric guitars and a drum kit and amplifiers.

A few girls sat and watched as the four youths belted out the introduction to “When You Walk in the Room”.

Dissatisfied, they stopped and counted themselves in to start again. One of the girls turned and caught sight of our faces peering through the glass. She got up and headed to the door. We hastily clambered down in anticipation of being told to clear off.

As we reluctantly walked away a voice called us back and one of the girls beckoned to us; she was a distant cousin of one of our number and to our delight took us into the warmth and light of the warehouse and into the presence of a real group.

With unplanned but perfect timing we entered the hall just as the band reached the line, “I can feel that something pounding in my brain…” and so it did: an all-enveloping sound that shook dust from the floorboards and rattled the ancient windows in their fittings. The lead guitarist had a cigarette tucked behind his ear and winklepicker shoes far pointier than any my father would have allowed me to wear.

I recognised the drummer as the youth who worked in the butchers; I had often seen him absently rapping out a rhythm on the scales with a pair of skewers and now I knew

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why. To our young and untrained ears they sounded amazing. We sat on the floor against the wall feeling the boards vibrating beneath us, shaking drops of melting snow from our shoes and cuffs.

The band went through their repertoire of six or seven Sixties’ hits and we resisted the temptation to sing along with them but nodded our heads and tapped our feet vigorously, shaking droplets of melting snow from our shoes onto the grimy floor.

We stayed until the end of the rehearsal, oblivious to the fact that it had made us more than an hour late for home and on the dark and chilly way back we held an impromptu Mick Jagger impersonation contest to keep warm.

Half a century later music is available

St. Peter’s Church at Stanton Lacey in Shropshire.

MIKE HAYWARD

THE HOPES AND FEARS

at the touch of a key, and I go to concerts several times a year, but its very attainability dilutes it. Back then live music was a whole world away (If you discounted the Sally Army band who played outside Woolworth’s on a Saturday - but they didn’t do many Rolling Stones numbers).

Whenever I hear that old Searchers song it triggers a cocktail of sensations: cold, wet feet, the smell of a thousand smoky chimneys, snow glowing orange under the streetlights and most of all hope. We were young, things were moving so quickly and one day maybe that would be us playing those guitars with our hair halfway down our ears and wearing the pointiest shoes imaginable.

BOB ROGERS

What is more English, or more poignant Than Christmas carols hauntingly floating across crisp December air; Familiar notes from shivering Salvation Army musicians carrying, once again, Messages of hope?

Amidst the tinsel and fripperies, there stands the parish church, Symbol of Christian England; bastion of lasting values.

The hopes and fears of all the years echo afresh as carols are sung, As street-corner lamps, hand-held lanterns and porch bulbs Lend their light to carollers and music-makers.

Ghosts of top-hatted, velvet-cloaked Victorian singers Watch and smile as English-oaked pews are filled With chatting kids comparing brand-new presents.

Down English lanes, in English towns, drifting beyond moorland and castles, Those hopes and fears move from generation to generation.

STEPHEN POXON

More ‘FORGET-ME-NOTS’ overleaf

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In England — NOW! Celebrating English achievement, enterprise and creativity in the 21st century

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n December 2012, hidden away in the television schedules was a delightful film entitled A Very English Winter.

As sharp as frost, as bright as fire, and refreshingly different from the usual seasonal programmes of game shows, soap operas and endless repeats, it explored the strange customs, rituals and traditions of old England that still survive today. Here were people carrying flaming torches and grotesque effigies through dark English streets; figures with painted faces dressed in bizarre, often perplexing costumes whose voices chanted weird incantations and sang strange songs; men and women whose bodies made twisted shapes as they followed ancient dance steps.

Caught up in these ceremonies and rites depicting the battle between good and evil, celebrating the survival of winter and commemorating events from history and legend were Rachel and Becky Unthank, the two sisters from the north east of England who were presenting the programme.

Rachel and Becky, age 36 and 29 respectively, were the perfect choice as guides to these curious customs.

Over the last few years their group, The Unthanks, has taken the world of English folk music by storm, with a repertoire of songs which, while delving into England’s colourful past, tell stories with powerful messages for today. The group perform these songs with an enthusiasm, freshness and liveliness which Rachel and Becky carried into the programme, qualities which have earned The Unthanks plaudits from artists as diverse as Rosanne Cash, Elvis Costello, Radiohead and Robert Wyatt, as well as numerous awards and nominations for “Best Group” and “Best Album”.

Even in this modern age where life for many people seems to be dominated by television, the internet and “social media”, anyone growing up on the banks of the Tyne or the Tees amidst the beautiful but occasionally scarred

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countryside of Northumberland and County Durham can’t help but absorb the rich culture and history of the area, be aware of its great agricultural, industrial and maritime heritage, or carry around in their heads snatches of poems, songs and stories, often in local dialect, recounting real-life events and celebrating memorable characters.

Northumberland folk singer in a group called The Keelers, famous for their colourful shanties, while mother Pat has been a regular member of local folk choirs.

The house at Ryton was always full of music (family get-togethers invariably involved a good “knees-up”) and from a young age Rachel and Becky were taken to festivals, concerts and folk clubs where they heard and loved all kinds of songs and singers: The Wilson Family, who sing traditional songs without musical accompaniment, were particularly influential. As part of the same tradition, the girls learned how to clog dance and included it in their act when they too began to perform.

In 2005, as Rachel Unthank and The Winterset, the sisters recorded their first album, Cruel Sister, a collection of their own favourite songs. The other musicians in the band were Belinda O’Hooley (piano) and Jackie Oates (violin), and

Modern English Folk

The Unthanks

In harmony: Rachel (left) and Becky.

As well as growing up in this landscape, Rachel, Becky and brother Matthew (two years younger than Rachel) were immersed in music from the moment they were born. Their father George was, and is, a well-known

the producer was Adrian McNally (later their manager, agent, multiinstrumentalist member of the band and Rachel’s husband!). The record was well received, with DJs Bob Harris, Andy Kershaw and Stuart Maconie among those promoting it on their shows. A number of sell-out tours followed, and a second album, The Bairns (2007), which was nominated for the Best Album award at the BBC Radio 2 Folk Awards and also nominated for the Mercury Prize.

By this time, Jackie Oates had left the group and been replaced by Irish fiddle player Niopha Keegan, who remains in the band to this day.

Tim Cumming of The Independent wrote: “The Bairns proves to be a vivid and haunting experience, its palette of traditional songs expanded with a scattering of contemporary numbers.”

The band were also widely praised for their entertaining live shows and the light-hearted teasing that took place on stage between the different members.

Inevitably there were one or two complaints from so-called folk “purists”, dismayed at the fresh interpretations of traditional songs. One commentator on an internet message board even criticised

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as “string-laden and luscious but also the girls for the clothes they wore, to introduce a chain of them: “welders, delicate, wistful and melancholy”. which Rachel gave a robust response: riveters, platers, pipe-fitters, sheetThe usual traditional songs were “Perhaps we should start wearing jeans metal workers, boilersmiths…etc.” present, performed in the group’s own and woolly jumpers on stage to look a bit while proclaiming “this country’s an adventurous style, but also included more authentic. Quite seriously though, island and an island needs ships”. Other versions of songs by other artists: “Give people might think that wearing posh songs lament that “gone are the days Away Your Heart” (Jon Redfern), dresses is about glamour and marketing, they were taking on men” and defiantly “Starless” (King Crimson), “No One but with us I think it comes more from affirm that “you might steal our future, Knows I’m Gone” (Tom Waits and an old-fashioned, working-class hangbut you’ll not steal our glory”. Listening Kathleen Brennan). up of always wearing your best frock in to this stark, beautiful collection, you public.”

Here’s the Tender Coming, the group’s next album (now as The Unthanks) was released in September 2009. Built, as usual, on the wondrous close harmonies of Rachel and Becky, it is, in the opinion of this writer, one of the best CDs/records of any genre at any time.

Highlights include the heartbreaking tale of “Annachie Gordon”, “The Testimony of Patience Kershaw” (based on the real, spoken words of a 17-year-old to the Royal Commission on Children’s Employment in 1842), In 2011 The Unthanks went on a UK tour with the Brighouse and Rastrick Brass Band.

“At First She Starts”

by Lal Waterson and Oliver Knight The Unthanks never stand still and don’t actually need to see the film. So about a singing bird and Ewan MacColl’s refuse to be told what sort of songs they evocative are the songs by Jez Lowe, poignant song about his mother, and the should perform, or how they should Johnny Handle, John Tams and Elvis lonely life of a cleaner, “Nobody Knew perform them. If they like the music, Costello that black and white images, She Was There”. they will play it. This led to a fascinating sepia photographs and the smoky world The wonderful musical journey, which series which they called “Diversions”, of terrace houses, pubs and shipyards encompasses forbidden love, loss at sea beginning with two concerts in pass through the mind unannounced. and the tragedy of war, culminates in December 2010 at the Union Chapel in One of the songwriters who the magnificent title track: a powerful North London where they performed contributed to Songs from the Shipyards song, gently sung in a lovely Geordie material by Robert Wyatt and Antony was local legend Graeme Miles, accent, about the terrible effect the press and the Johnsons, leading to the group’s composer of hundreds of songs about gangs had on local communities. The first live album. the area. He died earlier this year and “tender” is a boat whose threatening The second “Diversion” led to another the next Unthanks performance will be arrival is watched by helpless observers live album, this time based on a series of a couple of concerts celebrating his life on the shore (“Here’s the tender comin’, concerts with the renowned Brighouse and work: on 22nd November at Saltburn pressin’ all the men, Oh dear, hinny, and Rastrick Brass Band. Four months Theatre, Saltburn-by-the-Sea, and on what’ll we do then?”). later, in November 2012, the final and 23rd November at Cecil Sharp House in Many guest musicians featured on most ambitious part of the series was London. A number of other folk acts will the album, but the main line-up was released: Songs from the Shipyards which also be performing. now Becky Unthank, Rachel Unthank, had been created and performed as a live The Unthanks’ river flows on: its Niopha Keegan, Adrian McNally soundtrack to a beautiful film by Richard source the industrial waters of the and Chris Price, a settled group who Fenwick telling the story of shipbuilding north east, its destination the fabulous, remained together for their next on the Tyne, Wear and Tees. uncharted seas of who knows where… album, Last, which was released on It is a truthful, poignant, gritty and JACK JAKEMAN 14th March 2011. It reached number unsentimental tribute to the men who Further Information: 40 in the UK charts and was again earned their living in hard, poorly paid, All the latest news about the group, their music critically acclaimed, with a columnist often dangerous occupations. The words and forthcoming concert dates can be found on in The Daily Telegraph describing it of the song “Black Trade” (Jez Lowe) their website: www.the-unthanks.com

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It’s your turn!

Board Game Treasures & Fun

L

ittle did Alan Goldsmith’s parents realise when they gave their seven-year-old son a toy train for Christmas in 1947 that it would be the start of something big. The engine sparked Alan’s fascination with toys that has extended well beyond his childhood and the average toy box.

Today, Alan owns The House on the Hill Toy Museum at Stansted Mountfitchet, in Essex, which houses his astonishing collection built up over the years. It includes 70,000 toys, books and games ranging from the Roman era to the 1980s. Among the amazing items are 2,000 board games and these are the subject of a book Alan has compiled entitled The Price Guide of Vintage & Collectable Board & Table Top Games.

Opening this impressively illustrated volume is like dipping into a colourful compendium of childhood memories, but there is more than nostalgia to be found within these pages. Alan’s book is the first to offer a guide to the value of each game as he

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explains: “Board games are fast becoming one of today’s desirable collectables and are increasing in value daily, and are destined to soar in price.”

More than 600 games are presented in this guide and Alan is already planning a second volume.

Like most of us Alan’s first board game was Snakes and Ladders, but his collection now features some extremely rare items indeed. Among the treasures he highlights are the German war-game Adler Luftverteidigungs Spiel, dating from 1940, and valued at between £1,500 and £2,000. Then there’s The Domino and Architectural Game, made in France in 1850 and with an estimated value of £750 to £1,000. Going much further back in time, to 1803, is a game called Historical Pastime (History of England from Conquest to the Accession of George III) that has a value of between £600 and £700.

Alan acquires the games from auctions, private purchases and antique fairs across the country, while some are donated to the museum. But is there a sought-after find that has eluded him so far? “Many early games were

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produced in very small numbers with now only one or two surviving,” he says, “discovering these games that no one knew existed is the thrill of the chase.”

Considering the extent of Alan’s collection, you can’t help wondering if he has a favourite game. “Bomber Command,” he replies, “because it’s all about the Second World War and playing war-games is a nostalgic trip back to my childhood.”

It is that precious link with yesteryear which brings so many visitors to the museum — 2 ½ million since it first opened in 1991. They are of all ages and Alan says it is interesting to see which exhibits prompt the greatest response. “Older people love the tinplate toys, and pre- and post-war toys as well. The visitors who are in their 40s love the robots, TV-related toys such as Thunderbirds, and Sindy and Barbie dolls.”

Of all the toys in the museum, the one that Alan likes best is a large Hornby clockwork train because it evokes so many happy memories for him.

Inevitably times change and technology has brought us computer games, but Alan thinks that children today are missing

out by not playing so many board games as their predecessors.

“There is no social interaction,” he reflects. “Before the advent of radio and television, families would play board games every night together. This family enjoyment is now sadly missed.”

However, he does admit that all is not lost: “More people are rediscovering this family enjoyment time of getting together and playing these old games.”

With Christmas approaching there’s no doubt that families everywhere will be doing just that — once the turkey and pudding have been consumed! This, of course, begs the question, which games will be played in Alan’s household during the festive season? He says that his family will be digging out “the old favourites” including Ludo, Sorry and Dad’s Army. Mind you, if those don’t go down too well, he’s always got plenty of others to choose from!

ANGELINE WILCOX

The Price Guide of Vintage & Collectable Board & Table Top Games, Volume One,

by Alan Goldsmith, price £45 (inc. UK postage) is available from Fallow Publishing, telephone 01279 815464 or e-mail info@fallowpublishing.com .

The House on the Hill Toy Museum, Stansted Mountfitchet, Essex CM24 8SP. Telephone 01279 813237, www.stansteadtoymuseum.com

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H

Costume of a military sort was ow many of us walking the adopted by a middle-aged mustachioed crowded streets of London man who patrolled around the Holborn today are old enough to area sporting what appeared to be a remember those wonderful individuals and eccentrics that once peopled them and brightened our day?

As someone who has trodden these pavements for the past 60 or so years and had the chance to encounter some of these remarkable characters, I thought it would be an idea to set them splendid uniform complete with badges, down before they are totally forgotten, shoulder flashes, medals and peaked and in doing so maybe rekindle cap. His footwear, however, gave memories amongst readers of those they him away, for it consisted of highly encountered. polished cut-down Who can forget the “flowerman”, a wellington boots. tall, thin, dark-suited individual who His approach paraded the streets around Soho and was heralded Seven Dials with carnations and other by shouted blooms sprouting from every pocket and commands, behind his ear, while on his head was barrack-room balanced a bottle complete with flower. oaths and orders Marching at speed down the street, he directed at would stop suddenly, do a complete turn, anybody with the bottle not only remaining safely that on his head but not rotating. Applause caught often followed from onlookers and he would march off to repeat the procedure elsewhere.

One character who in fact made her film debut in the opening titles of I’ll Never Forget What’s ’Isname (1967) starring Oliver Reed was the amazing “White Lady”, a somewhat Miss Havisham-like lady clad totally in white. Walking slowly through the West End, she brushed herself down continuously with her white-gloved hands as if to remove any dust or dirt that may Speakers’ Corner, Hyde Park. have clung to her clothes.

his eye, often to their embarrassment although the luckier ones received a salute.

Vehicles and their drivers were the target of another vociferous individual who in fact could have been the inspiration for the sketch in which John Cleese berates his brokendown mini. “The Shouter”, as he was known, roamed the highways shouting at parked cars, flamboyantly taking down their numbers and on occasion venting his outrage at passing drivers who couldn’t accelerate away fast enough. Sometimes he would berate a totally empty vehicle as if it were a human being – drawing attention to its condition and other faults.

A more melodious group were the “Happy Wanderers” – everybody knew and heard them as they slowly moved along the pavement, often in single file in the gutter, playing a mixture of instruments and tunes, wearing militarystyle outfits and hats. From time to time they would stop to give a noisy and impromptu concert to the annoyance of residents and workers. Like the “White Lady” they too achieved fame on the screen, appearing in the film Tiger in the Smoke (1956) based on the novel by Margery Allingham set in a foggy London.

In the booking hall of Sloane Square station could be seen, for some time, what appeared to be a bearded Coptic priest.

Complete with pastoral staff he stood at the entrance to the platform blessing those about

Whatever happened to all the characters?

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family of horse breeders and racers. This inherited gene perhaps played a part in his backing the 1920 Derby winner Spion Kop which came in at 100-6 netting him the vast sum for those days of £8,000. His death was as remarkable as his life had been, for he actually choked to death on a Black Magic “strawberry cream” from a box brought to him while he was in hospital by flamboyant racing journalist Jeffrey Bernard.

Probably the most memorable and well-known character encountered by people on the streets of London was the late Stanley Green, known as the Protein Man, a passionate believer in the evils of eating protein - which he said created lust in the consumer - together with, of all things, “sitting”. Stanley, with his placard, campaigned for many years along Oxford Street, handing out information leaflets to passers-by. These he printed on a small printing press at his home in Neasden from where he travelled each day. On his death in 1993 his placard and examples of his literature were donated to the Museum of London whilst the Grange Museum at Neasden has, amongst other memorabilia, his printing press.

These then are a few of the characters encountered during my years in London.

There may be some I have missed, and indeed others in every village, town or city who perhaps, like mine, should be recorded.

ROBIN OLLINGTON

to set out on their journey. Interestingly, those arriving did not receive the benefit of his ministrations.

Another Tube station with its attendant eccentric was Victoria.

There, a camouflage-jacket and beretwearing individual offered information to travellers and directions to tourists who, seeing him in action, automatically thought he was an official and so joined those seeking advice, which from all accounts was accurate and free.

Other now-vanished habitués of railway terminals are the shawl-clad, weather-beaten gypsy ladies who would descend on travellers and proffer rather tired fronds of heather or simulated paper flowers made from crêpe paper with assurances that, if you crossed their palm with silver in return, they would bring you good luck.

Royalty has always been associated with the turf, none more so than the colourful, self-appointed tipster Ras Prince Monolulu, Chief of the Falasha tribe of Abyssinia, who from the 1920s until his death in 1965 could be seen, complete with brightly coloured feathered headdress, passing through London termini en route to the various racecourses where his famous cry of “I gotta horse!” was heard as he dispensed tips to racegoers.

In reality his real name was Peter Car Mackay, and he was born on the Caribbean island of St. Croix into a

Swimming in the Serpentine It will appear again this Christmas, just as it always does: a story at the end of the television news or tucked away inside a daily paper describing how a group of hardy – some might say slightly bonkers – individuals, braved the elements on Christmas morning to swim in the freezing waters of the Serpentine in Hyde Park. In fact the men and women who take part in this annual ritual are continuing a tradition that started back in 1864, and although it is the Christmas race for the Peter Pan Cup (donated by J.M. Barrie after he spotted the swimmers while out walking) that grabs the headlines, the Serpentine Swimming Club holds races at 8am every Saturday morning, whatever the weather, and five championship races a year (over 55 yards, 110 yards, 220 yards, 440 yards and 880 yards). Members are of all ages and from every walk of life. Further details can be found on their website: serpentineswimmingclub.com .

F

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THIS ENGLAND

The Patience Strong Poem

For all who love our green and pleasant land

WINTER 2013 Quarterly £4.60

Volume Forty Six Number Four WINTER 2013

Thaw

Above: Morning sun in winter on Ramshaw Rocks between Buxton and Leek in the Derbyshire Peak District.

te cov winter 13 without.indd All Pages

Quarterly

When the sun shines through the clouds and sheds a golden glow — on the hard and frosted surface of the dazzling snow — Its gentle warmth will penetrate each frozen crystal flake.

And in the brilliance of its smile a sheet of ice will break.

And human smiles work wonders, too. Like sunshine on the snow — a frigid nature will respond and melt in friendship’s glow — and thaw beneath the warmth of love, of sympathy and trust — softening with kindly words the cold, unhuman crust — of bitterness and grievances that harden with each year. How often unexpectedly a look will charm and cheer!

It takes some time for snow to melt beneath the sun’s bright glow — so do not be discouraged if response seems faint and slow. Love’s strange magic works beneath the surface. None can guess — how its unseen rays go out to comfort and to bless.

CHRIS HERRING

11/10/2013 09:14