The Occasional Newsletter
Welcome to our
fourth occasional newsletter (February 2007).
Latest News
Writers in rural
areas, who are more aware of weather and the changing seasons than urban ones,
can find winter a good time for writing. If venturing outdoors proves cold and
wet, this is a great incentive to get on with the work in the hopes that there
will be time to enjoy good weather in the summer months – so that is what we
have been doing. Work progresses on our next book, about the everyday lives of
seamen in Nelson’s time, and now that the deadline for completing the
manuscript is less than a year away, the pressure is already mounting!
We are continuing
to do some work connected to our book The War for All the Oceans that
was published in hardback in the UK
five months ago (and will be published in the US this summer). We have agreed to
give a talk at the exciting new book festival at Appledore
in Devon, which runs 29 September to 7 October
(full details in a later newsletter, or check our website under latest
news). If you are looking for a late summer break, you could do worse than this
part of the north Devon coast during the
festival. The area is dotted with picturesque towns and villages that are
steeped in history, with fewer hard-sell honeypots
for tourists than along the coast of southern England. Appledore
itself is (just) a working port, with one or two fishing boats still operating,
but the famous shipyard has closed down and the harbour is more of a marina
these days. However, with its characteristic narrow streets, some of them old
rope walks, it has a wonderful atmosphere and is home to the North Devon
Maritime Museum,which is well worth a visit.
Latest Expedition
With the short
winter days we have not ventured far from Exeter
– just a few miles south to Brixham, in fact. The
excuse was to look at an unpublished logbook written by a midshipman who ended
his life a full admiral in 1868, but the reason was that the sun was
shining for once, and Brixham is another of those
wonderful small Devon harbours that are always
a pleasure to visit. Brixham was the main port in Torbay in Nelson’s time, and it was a centre for water,
food and other supplies for the warships anchored in the bay. To appreciate the
anchorage of Torbay, you really need to go to
the end of Berry Head, the headland that adjoins Brixham,
which gives fine views both east and west. Here are the remains of a Napoleonic
era fort, whose guns protected the Torbay
anchorage and acted as a look-out station. This fort has been excavated for
several seasons by a team from Brixham Museum,
led by the curator Philip Armitage. Apart from the
views, the fort itself is well worth a visit, as is Brixham Museum, where some of the finds from the
excavations are on display.

Brixham is still a working port with a small fishing fleet,
but this is eclipsed by the huge number of boats in the outer harbour, which is
now a marina. The breakwater of the harbour extends so far out that if you walk
to the end, you have a good idea of the view Napoleon must have had when HMS Bellerophon anchored here with him on board
in the summer of 1815. Despite his hopes, he was not allowed to go on shore and
was soon moved to Plymouth
after people flocked to the Bellerophon in
small boats just to catch a glimpse of him. From Plymouth Napoleon was taken
out to sea to rendezvous with the ship that would take him to exile on St Helena.
It was around
this time that Torquay began to overshadow nearby settlements such as Brixham. During the wars with the French, the population
along this coast was swollen by the families of officers and men in the navy
ships that regularly anchored in Torbay, and
by some relatives of soldiers manning forts such as Berry Head. With the
Continent closed to British travellers, many well-off people who might
otherwise have spent the winter abroad in a milder climate, often on the advice
of their physician, now looked for more viable alternatives. This included the
Royal family, and while George III favoured Weymouth, the Princess of Wales toured the
West Country in the spring of 1806, and one place she stayed at was Torquay. In
an era before professional publicists, the resort could have no greater seal of
approval, and Torquay never looked back. It soon found favour with medical men,
and when the artist Joseph Farington visited just
three years later it was recommended to him as ‘peculiarly favourable for
nervous and consumptive complaints, the air being warm and dry’. Today Torquay
is an urban sprawl, while Brixham still clings to its
heritage as a small coastal town.
Monument of the
Month
This month’s
monument is a grassy mound set up eighteen years ago in Milton
Keynes, where we once lived. Some 45 miles north-west of London, the new city was
then in the early stages of development. Essentially it was still open
countryside dotted with large construction sites. As part of the overall development,
a small team of archaeologists was employed to identify, map and excavate or
record the archaeological remains within the new city area. Right at the heart of the new
development, in the plot planned for the future administrative civic buildings,
a mound was discovered that was recorded in the Domesday
Book of 1086 and later documents. Since it lay at the point where three
parishes met, it was likely to have been used as a meeting mound for local
communities in Saxon times. It had certainly given its name, Secklow, to one of the local ‘hundreds’, which were
administrative areas dating back to Saxon times. Since the Saxons frequently
re-used prehistoric or Roman round burial mounds for such purposes, it was
decided to investigate the site. A trial excavation in 1977 was followed up by
further investigation the following year. The site was approximately level when
excavated, and not mound-like at all. No trace of a burial was found, and the
mound had been constructed by digging a shallow circular ditch and heaping up
the soil from this ditch into the middle of the circle. Turf was then stripped
off the surrounding area and piled up on the low mound. Over the
centuries, the shallow ditch silted up and the mound weathered so that it was
almost flat. Despite documentary references to it as ‘Selly Hill’, the mound could never have been very high.
The
site was not fully excavated, but as the building of the new city progressed, it was decided to
recreate this ‘moot’ or meeting place. A low mound, approximately the height of
the original, was landscaped over the site to protect the unexcavated area, and
this was seeded with grass to make a small green space at the heart of the
city, at the same time preserving some nearby mature trees. One reason for
reconstructing the mound was that the idea of continuity of administration in
the locality, stretching back several centuries, appealed to those in charge of
the developing city. It was something that gave the city rather spurious
‘historic roots’, and just as the mound had given its name to Secklow Hundred, it was now commemorated in a nearby road
name: Secklow Gate. Unfortunately at this point
people’s imaginations began to run riot and since the mound was man-made, they
began to look for other man-made mounds. One that sprang immediately to mind
was Silbury Hill in Wiltshire. This is a huge
man-made prehistoric mound 120 feet high with a flat summit about 95 feet in
diameter. By comparison, Secklow Mound was never more
than 6 feet high. However, those choosing names for the new city, perhaps
influenced by the documentary references to ‘Selly Hill’, were impervious to
the irony of making mountains out of molehills, so if you are ever in central
Milton Keynes, spare a thought for how Silbury
Boulevard came by its name. You might also spare five minutes to see whether
the mound is still there or whether, like its predecessor, it has become
flat and forgotten.
Songs for Spring and Summer
In the old
Christian calendar 2 February was the feast of the Purification of the Virgin
Mary and the recognition of Christ as Messiah by Simeon, whose words ‘a light
to lighten the Gentiles’ formed the excuse for the rituals of Candlemas. This was a feast of blessing and dedicating
candles – churches were ablaze with candlelight, and resounded with singing.
Like many other Christian festivals and rituals, this had been bolted on to an
earlier pagan tradition, essentially a festival of light, to mark the passing
seasons, for Candlemas was held to be the formal end
of winter. In the centuries before electricity, gas, and paraffin lamps,
domestic lighting relied on rush tapers, candles and light from the open fire
in the hearth, so the dark days of winter were very dark and depressing indeed.
By the beginning of February, daylight was visibly lengthening, the worst of
winter was over, and there was a feeling of better days to come, even if the
possibility of bad weather still lingered, as old weather-lore rhymes warned:
If Candlemas be fair and bright,
Come Winter, take another flight.
If Candlemas brings cold and rain,
Go Winter, and come not again.
Springtime, from Candlemas to May Day (regarded as the first day of summer),
was a time of increasing activity for everything and everybody in the
countryside. While wildlife entered the mating season and snowdrops gave way to
daffodils, for farmers it was lambing season and time to finish tilling the
fields and start sowing the summer crops. With increasing daylight hours, the
working day lengthened, and the enforced idleness of mid-winter gave way to the
start of a new agricultural cycle. Most of the seasonal songs look forward to
the summer, but one of the songs related to the early months of the year is When
Spring comes in, which was collected from a traditional singer in
Wiltshire. The first verse is:
When spring comes in the birds will
sing,
The lambs will play and bells will
ring
And we shall enjoy the glorious
charm
So lovely and so
gay.
St Valentines
Day, on 14 February, was another early festival which the Christian church
obscured with a
Saint’s day, and in many rural areas it was a time for children
to go out begging, with traditional chants and rhymes. This one is from Eastleach in Gloucestershire:
Mornty, Mornty, Valentine!
Blow the oats against the wind,
We are ragged and you are fine,
So please to give
us a Valentine.
Mornty was ‘Good morning to ye’
run together. Nowadays seasonal excuses for children to go begging are confined
to Guy Fawkes Night and Hallowe’en, but originally
such occasions were spread through the year, and May Day provided another. In Sussex the
children covered hoops with wild flowers and carried them on their begging
rounds chanting,
The First of May is Garland Day,
So please remember the garland
We don’t come here but once a year
So please remember the garland.
Of full songs
rather than snatches of rhyme, that belong to this
season, the earliest recorded one dates to the 13th century and is written in
Middle English. It is known as ‘Summer is icumen in’, which can be loosely translated as ‘Spring is
here’ or ‘Summer is on its way’, and a modern translation runs:
Summer is a-coming in,
Loudly sing, Cuckoo!
Seeds grow and meadows bloom,
And the forest springs anew,
Sing, Cuckoo!
The ewe bleats after the lamb
The cow lows after the calf.
The bullock jumps, the buck farts,
Merrily sing, Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo, well you sing,
cuckoo;
Nor cease you ever now!
Sing cuckoo now, Sing cuckoo!
Sing cuckoo, Sing cuckoo now!
The cuckoo
(tragically no longer heard where we live) was emblematic of spring and summer,
and once it arrived the good weather was definitely on the way, as summed up in
the first verse of the song The Cuckoo:
The cuckoo is a merry bird,
He sings as he flies,
He brings us glad tidings,
And tells us no
lies.
With the coming
of enclosures and then the spreading grip of industrialisation, the old customs
and ceremonies to welcome the better weather virtually died out, helped on
their way by well-meaning local clergymen intent on imposing Victorian ideals
of propriety and piety. One of the few such ceremonies left, and that only
revived in 1930, is the Furry Dance at Helston in Cornwall on May Day. The
accompanying song is thought to be at least Elizabethan, if not earlier in
date, and the chorus sums up the joys and rising hopes of the season:
Hal-an-Tow, jolly rumble-O!
For we are up as soon as any day-O!
And for to fetch the Summer home,
The Summer
and the May-O!
For Summer
is a come-O!
And Winter
is a gone-O!
Competition
Results
Last month we
asked the name of the famous novelist and sister of the captain of the Canopus, who was
disappointed at missing the Battle of Trafalgar. The answer was Jane Austen.
She had two brothers in the navy: Francis Austen and Charles Austen, who both
eventually became admirals. This family conection
gave her inside knowledge of the navy, which is reflected in her novels,
particularly Mansfield
Park and Persuasion.
For those who would like to find out more, take a look at the book Jane
Austen and the Navy by Brian Southam. The two
winners of the competition were Susan Lucas and Sue Gregory.
Competition
The ancient Nabatean city of Petra, in
modern Jordan,
was rediscovered by Europeans in the early 19th century, though it was known to
the medieval crusaders, who built a fort nearby. The distinctive temples and
tombs of Petra, cut out of pink sandstone cliffs, inspired John William Burgon to say of it, ‘Match me such marvel in Eastern clime,
a rose-red city – half as old as time’. This was no poetic exaggeration,
because when the poem was written the accepted wisdom about the date of the
building of Petra was just as inaccurate as the
idea of the age of the planet, and it was quite literally thought that Petra was half as old as
the age of the earth. For this competition we would like to know the answer to
this question: At the time that Petra
was rediscovered by western Europeans, what age was the planet earth thought to
be? Was it,
A) 600 years old
B) 6000 years old
C) 60,000 years
old
D) 600,000 years
old
E) 6,000,000
years old
The closing date
is 11 May 2007, and the two winners will be notified by email shortly
afterwards.
The first prize
will be an original copy of The Times newspaper of London for Saturday May 1, 1830, and the
second prize will be one for Tuesday February 21, 1832. They each have eight
printed pages, and for their age are in reasonable condition. Like many
newspapers of the time, they contain numerous advertisements, including these
examples which give a flavour of the era:
A YOUTH WANTED.––
A young man WANTED, in a respectable counting-house. No salary for the first 2
years. One from Christ
Church Hospital
would be preferred. Apply by letter, post paid, to C.D., 9, Old Broad-street.
WASHING.––WANTED,
a Family’s or Gentleman’s WASHING, by a person, on moderate terms, who will pay every attention, and has an excellent drying
ground. Address, post paid, to Z.H., at 4, York-place, Portland-town.
In the Next Issue
Britain’s turnpike roads, regulars like Monument of
the Month, and all our latest news.