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Ueno Park, Tokyo Japan

amazing just how much mechanics and parts make up even a ww2 trainer....

St Peter, Ketteringham, Norfolk

 

In 2006, I wrote: Ketteringham is just south of the main A11 road, but clever planning policies have left it feeling remote; more remote than it felt before the new road was built, probably. The village straggles along a mile or so of street, and the church is about half a mile to the south. My OS map showed a road leading up to it, but when we looked for this road it turned out to be the private drive of Ketteringham Hall, and was very firmly locked off. Instead, we had to go out into the country on the road to East Carleton and then come back northwards towards the church. It sits immediately beside another entrance to the Hall grounds, and you can see at once that it was a park church, the main churchyard entrances pointing towards gates into the grounds, the public lychgate in the corner added almost as an afterthought.

 

Another sign that this was a park church is that it was patently given a good going over in the late 18th century. The antiquarian-minded squirearchy of the times didn't know much about medieval architecture, but it knew what it liked. Hence, the fortress-like pinnacle to the tower stairway, and the guardian angels at the other three corners. The residents of the Hall at the time were the Atkyns; their successors were the Boileaus, whose famous mausoleum is to the east of the church. It was built under very traumatic circumstances, one of the central incidents in Owen Chadwick's masterly Victorian Miniature, a book I only read after my visit here, but which will send me back there as soon as possible.

 

There have been four main families that have left their impression here - the Grays, the Heveninghams, the Atkyns and the Boileaus. The atmosphere of the interior, at once rustic and grand, tells you that the Boileaus had more say in the 19th century than the ecclesiologists of Oxford and Cambridge ever did. Sir John Boileau, the hot-tempered, paternalistic Squire, was responsible for the elegant west gallery; he spent thirty years in dispute with the vain, egotistical, Calvinist Rector William Andrew, and his appalling wife Ellen, a tale recounted in Chadwick's book.

 

The key lets you in through the vestry, and you step into a chancel which is quite overwhelming in the quantity of its memorials. There are over 500 years worth of them from all four families, and the best thing is that they are almost all both interesting and quirky - few of them are merely pompous or run of the mill.

 

There are, broadly speaking, four groups. On the south side of the chancel is a large table tomb which might once have formed an Easter sepulchre. Set in its recess are two late 15th century brasses to Sir Henry and Lady Gray. An older brass to Jane Gray is set on the wall to the west of it. Moving west, the massive tomb by Robert Page for Edward Atkyns, who died in 1750, looks like nothing so much as a bath tub with lion's feet.

 

Directly opposite is the family pew of the Atkyns, later that of the Boileaus - memorials of both families tower above it, most prominently the weeping woman and urn on the Richard Westmacott memorial to father and son Edward and Wright Atkyns; the array of weapons stacked beside the urn recall that the son died in battle.

This is echoed in one of the later brass inscriptions set below to Charles Augustus Penryn Boileau, youngest son of Sir John Boileau. Something of a rake, he went to the Crimean War as a way of escaping his debts, and died in Malta on his way home as a result of injuries suffered at the 1855 seige of Sebastapol; a tangle of musket, sword, bugle and so on, is starkly carved from stone beneath.

 

A memorial of similar size to John, Charles' eldest brother, matches it; more successful in public life than his brother, he was a parliamentary private secretary to Lord John Russell. Russell's retirement coincided with the end of the Crimean War; John rushed out to see it end, but caught a fever in Austro-Hungary. He came home, but was sent to the south of France to recuperate. He got as far as Dieppe, and died there in 1861.

 

Between the two brasses is a central, larger one to their parents; SIr John Boileau, his movements, talents and emotions known to us today from Chadwick's book, a bull-headed yet sympathetic character who might have stepped out of the pages of Trollope, and his wife Catherine.

 

Catherine should have been remembered by a memorial window depicting the Saint that gave her name; but there was such an uproar in the parish, fanned by the Rector, about having an image of a Saint in the church that Sir John relented. The Rector, who was not unkind, reported to Sir John that his greatest fear was that the simple people of the parish might think it was the Virgin Mary.

 

Perhaps the most curious memorial is the most westerly one of this group. It is a 1910 memorial to Charlotte Atkyns, who died in Paris in 1836, and is buried in an unmarked grave; born a Walpole, she found herself caught up in the events of the French Revolution, and the inscription further recalls that she was the friend of Marie Antoinette, and made several brave attempts to rescue her from prison; and after that Queen's death strove to rescue the Dauphin of France. She bankrupted the family fortunes in her quest, mortgaging the Ketteringham estate and claiming to have spent an extraordinary eighty thousand pounds, about fifteen million in today's money.

 

Owen Chadwick recalls that, on her death, she requested that her body be returned to Ketteringham and a marble slab be placed on the chancel walls. Her relatives of the time, left destitute by her enthusiasms, not unreasonably failed to carry out either request. You might think that Charlotte's Francophile adventures and the French name of the Boileaus might indicate a family connection; in fact, the Boileaus were an old Huguenot family who came to Norfolk by way of Dublin, and already owned Tacolneston Hall. They bought the bankrupt Ketteringham estate after Charlotte's death.

 

Perhaps the best of all the memorials is in the north-east corner of the chancel, to Sir William Heveningham and his wife Mary. It is curious, the way the figures and prayerdesk at the bottom, and the ascending angel above, appear to obscure the inscription; but there may be a reason for this. Sir William was one of those who sat in judgement on Charles I, and although he did not actually sign the death warrant, he was deprived of his inheritance, and for many years his name was under a cloud.

 

St Peter is obviously worth the visit for the memorials alone, but there is rather more to it than that. The church has one of the best collections of medieval and Flemish glass in central Norfolk. One of the most interesting aspects of the collection, given that the Hall was in the hands of four powerful families over the centuries, is that it includes a 15th century Grey arms, and so we may perhaps assume that the families that collected the later continental glass were adding it to English medieval glass that was already in situ.

 

The most important glass is an English medieval Coronation of the Queen of Heaven, an extraordinarily rare pair of panels. Also English are numerous angels, a Saint Cecilia playing her psaltery, and a Bishop. Continental roundels include St Barbara, and there is also a fascinating St Christopher with a hermit looking on, which I take to be 15th century continental.

 

One of the striking things about the east window is that this is a collection set for display. I assume that this was the work of the late 18th century Atkyns family. Mary Parker tells me that the entire window was reset in 1908 by the King workshop of Norwich, and that some of it is now in reverse order to that given in an account of 1851. Some of the panels are in poor condition, and I fear that this may be because they were originally set back-to-front, that is to say with the painting outside, exposed to the elements. The King restoration corrected this, but not before the damage had been done.

 

If St Peter had none of the glass, and none of the memorials either, there would still be much to recommend it. The font is fascinating; four of the panels feature evangelistic symbols, and two others flowers; but the final two panels are very unusual. They are the only two that appear to have suffered iconoclasm; one is clearly a crucifixion scene, something like that which you find often on fonts in the seven sacraments series. The eighth panel is harder to decode. It shows a seated figure holding a staff - could it be Christ in judgement? Or the Mother of God enthroned? It is hard to say. The renewed roof, with its restored angels, is set on outstanding corbels, and there is a good view of them from up in the gallery. This is a small, narrow church, and the intimacy of the views from aloft is much to be recommended. In such a small building it even gives a good vantage point for photographing the east window if you have a decent zoom.

 

Sir John Boileau built the gallery as a way of providing accommodation for the Sunday School, an interference that the Rector deeply resented. There was no way that Sir John's liberal paternalism and the Rector's fundamentalist intransigence were ever likely to accommodate each other. The firm security of tenure enjoyed by both, and the further sources of friction that arose between them, not least the interference of the Rector's wife, made the situation explosive.

 

All around are hatchments of Atkyns and Boileaus. There is no doubt that they had their say, but strangely enough there is no sense of triumphalism; rather, they mark a church which is a real backwater, both geographically and in terms of English church furnishing and decoration. But if this was a backwater, it was a moneyed one; there is a real quality to the way everything was carried out here, and this remains today. As a good example, take the late 16th century painting on boards of the Wedding at Canaa in use as a reredos. My goodness, what a thing to find in an English country church! At the time it was painted, we were all enthusiastic protestants, stripping our churches and our lives of things of beauty. But here it is, an extraordinary Flemish survival, probably collected in the early 19th century.

 

As I said at the start, Norfolk is still full of surprises. This is not a church you find by accident, and so it fully repays the effort of getting here and getting in. What must it have been like to attend divine service here in the 19th century? I assume that the entire parish, pretty much, worked for the Hall. Whose side were they on in the long-running dispute between Squire and Rector? The Rector had the advantage of a three-decker pulpit. The reading light now faces north-west, but at one time he would have faced north-east, to address the Hall pew. This must have given him something of an advantage on a Sunday.

 

But today it is the Hall families we remember; the Grays, the Heveninghams, the Atkyns and especially the Boileaus. So, spare a glance and a thought before leaving for the cold stone memorial on the south nave wall for William Wayte Andrew, Rector through the middle years of the 19th century. In his evangelical Calvinist zeal he faced up to the Boileaus, but it must be with pursed lips that he is a silent witness to them now.

 

Simon Knott, 2006, updated 2016

 

St Albans Cathedral, also known as the Cathedral and Abbey Church of St Alban, is a Church of England cathedral church within St Albans, England. At 84 metres (276 ft), its nave is the longest of any cathedral in England. With much of its present architecture dating from Norman times, it was formerly known as St Albans Abbey before it became a cathedral in 1877. It is the second longest cathedral in the United Kingdom (after Winchester). Local residents often call it "the abbey", although the present cathedral represents only the church of the old Benedictine abbey.

 

The abbey church, although legally a cathedral church, differs in certain particulars from most of the other cathedrals in England: it is also used as a parish church, of which the dean is rector. He has the same powers, responsibilities and duties as the rector of any other parish.

 

Alban was a pagan living in the Roman city of Verulamium, now Verulamium Park, in St Albans, in Hertfordshire, England, about 22 miles (35 km) north of London along Watling Street. Before Christianity became the official religion of the Roman Empire, local Christians were being persecuted by the Romans. Alban sheltered their priest, Saint Amphibalus, in his home and was converted to the Christian faith by him. When the soldiers came to Alban's house looking for the priest, Alban exchanged cloaks with the priest and let himself be arrested in his place. Alban was taken before the magistrate, where he avowed his new Christian faith and was condemned for it. He was beheaded, according to legend, on the spot where the cathedral named after him now stands. The site is on a steep hill and legend has it that his head rolled down the hill after being cut off and that a well sprang up at the point where it stopped.

A well certainly exists today and the road up to the cathedral is named Holywell Hill. However the current well structure is no older than the late 19th century and it is thought that the name of the street derives from the "Halywell" river and "Halywell Bridge", not from the well.

 

The date of Alban's execution is a matter of some debate and is generally given as "circa 250"—scholars generally suggest dates of 209, 254 or 304.

 

History of the abbey and cathedral

 

A memoria over the execution point and holding the remains of Alban existed at the site from the mid-4th century (possibly earlier); Bedementions a church and Gildas a shrine. Bishop Germanus of Auxerre visited in 429 and took a portion of the apparently still bloody earth away. The style of this structure is unknown; the 13th century chronicler Matthew Paris (see below) claimed that the Saxons destroyed the building in 586.

 

Saxon buildings

Offa II of Mercia, who ruled in the 8th century, is said to have founded the Benedictine abbey and monastery at St Albans. All later religious structures are dated from the foundation of Offa's abbey in 793. The abbey was built on Holmhurst Hill—now Holywell Hill—across the River Ver from the ruins of Verulamium. Again there is no information to the form of the first abbey. The abbey was probably sacked by the Danes around 890 and, despite Paris's claims, the office of abbot remained empty from around 920 until the 970s when the efforts of Dunstanreached the town.

 

There was an intention to rebuild the abbey in 1005 when Abbot Ealdred was licensed to remove building material from Verulamium. With the town resting on clay and chalk the only tough stone is flint. This was used with a lime mortar and then either plastered over or left bare. With the great quantities of brick, tile and other stone in Verulamium the Roman site became a prime source of building material for the abbeys, and other projects in the area, up to the 18th century. Sections demanding worked stone used Lincolnshire limestone (Barnack stone) from Verulamium, later worked stones include Totternhoe freestone from Bedfordshire, Purbeck marble, and different limestones (Ancaster, Chilmark, Clipsham, etc.).

Renewed Viking raids from 1016 stalled the Saxon efforts and very little from the Saxon abbey was incorporated in the later forms.

 

The nave. The north wall (left) features a mix of Norman arches dating back to 1077 and arches in the Early English style of 1200.

 

Norman abbey

Much of the current layout and proportions of the structure date from the first Norman abbot, Paul of Caen (1077–1093). The 14th abbot, he was appointed by the new Archbishop of Canterbury, Lanfranc.

 

Building work started in the year of Abbot Paul's arrival. The design and construction was overseen by the Norman Robert the Mason. The plan has very limited Anglo-Saxon elements and is clearly influenced by the French work at Cluny, Bernay, and Caen and shares a similar floor plan to Saint-Étienne and Lanfranc's Canterbury—although the poorer quality building material was a new challenge for Robert and he clearly borrowed some Roman techniques, learned while gathering material in Verulamium. To take maximum use of the hilltop the abbey was oriented to the south-east. The cruciform abbey was the largest built in England at that time, it had a chancel of four bays, a transept containing seven apses, and a nave of ten bays—fifteen bays long overall. Robert gave particular attention to solid foundations, running a continuous wall of layered bricks, flints and mortar below and pushing the foundations down to twelve feet to hit bedrock. Below the crossing tower special large stones were used.

 

The tower was a particular triumph—it is the only 11th century great crossing tower still standing in England. Robert began with special thick supporting walls and four massive brick piers. The four-level tower tapers at each stage with clasping buttresses on the three lower levels and circular buttresses on the fourth stage. The entire structure masses 5,000 tons and is 144 feet high. The tower was probably topped with a Norman pyramidal roof; the current roof is flat. The original ringing chamber had five bells—two paid for by the Abbot, two by a wealthy townsman, and one donated by the rector of Hoddesdon. None of these bells has survived.

There was a widespread belief that the abbey had two additional, smaller towers at the west end. No remains have been found.

 

The monastic abbey was completed in 1089 but not consecrated until Holy Innocents' Day, 1115, (28 Dec) by the Archbishop of Rouen. King Henry I attended as did many bishops and nobles.

A nunnery (Sopwell Priory) was founded nearby in 1140.

 

Internally the abbey was bare of sculpture, almost stark. The plaster walls were coloured and patterned in parts, with extensive tapestries adding colour. Sculptural decoration was added, mainly ornaments, as it became more fashionable in the 12th century—especially after the Gothic style arrived in England around 1170.

 

In the current structure the original Norman arches survive principally under the central tower and on the north side of the nave. The arches in the rest of the building are Gothic, following medieval rebuilding and extensions, and Victorian era restoration.

 

The abbey was extended in the 1190s by Abbot John de Cella (also known as John of Wallingford) (1195–1214); as the number of monks grew from fifty to over a hundred, the abbey was extended westwards with three bays added to the nave. The severe Norman west front was also rebuilt by Hugh de Goldclif—although how is uncertain, it was very costly but its 'rapid' weathering and later alterations have erased all but fragments. A more prominent shrine and altar to Saint Amphibalus were also added. The work was very slow under de Cella and was not completed until the time of Abbot William de Trumpington (1214–35). The low Norman tower roof was demolished and a new, much higher, broached spire was raised, sheathed in lead.

The St Albans Psalter (ca. 1130–45) is the best known of a number of important Romanesque illuminated manuscripts produced in the Abbey scriptorium. Later, Matthew Paris, a monk at St Albans from 1217 until his death in 1259, was important both as a chronicler and an artist. Eighteen of his manuscripts survive and are a rich source of contemporary information for historians.

Nicholas Breakspear was born near St Albans and applied to be admitted to the abbey as a novice, but he was turned down. He eventually managed to be accepted into an abbey in France. In 1154 he was elected Pope Adrian IV, the only English Pope there has ever been. The head of the abbey was confirmed as the premier abbot in England also in 1154.

 

13th to 15th centuries

 

An earthquake shook the abbey in 1250 and damaged the eastern end of the church. In 1257 the dangerously cracked sections were knocked down—three apses and two bays. The thick Presbytery wall supporting the tower was left. The rebuilding and updating was completed during the rule of Abbot Roger de Norton (1263–90).

 

On 10 October 1323 two piers on the south side of the nave collapsed dragging down much of the roof and wrecking five bays. Mason Henry Wy undertook the rebuilding, matching the Early English style of the rest of the bays but adding distinctly 14th century detailing and ornaments. The shrine to St Amphibalus had also been damaged and was remade.

 

Abbey Gateway, now part of St. Albans School.

Richard of Wallingford, abbot from 1297 to 1336 and a mathematician and astronomer, designed a celebrated clock, which was completed by William of Walsham after his death, but apparently destroyed during the reformation.

 

A new gateway, now called the Abbey Gateway, was built to the abbey grounds in 1365, which was the only part of the monastery buildings (besides the church) to survive the dissolution, later being used as a prison and now part of St Albans School. The other monastic buildings were located to the south of the gateway and church.

 

In the 15th century a large west window of nine main lights and a deep traced head was commissioned by John of Wheathampstead. The spire was reduced to a 'Hertfordshire spike', the roof pitch greatly reduced and battlements liberally added. Further new windows, at £50 each, were put in the transept by Abbot Wallingford (also known as William of Wallingford), who also had a new high altar screen made.

 

Dissolution and after

After the death of Abbot Ramryge in 1521 the abbey fell into debt and slow decay under three weak abbots. At the time of the Dissolution of the Monasteries and its surrender on 5 December 1539 the income was £2,100 annually. The abbot and remaining forty monks were pensioned off and then the buildings were looted. All gold, silver and gilt objects were carted away with all other valuables; stonework was broken and defaced and graves opened to burn the contents.

 

The abbey became part of the diocese of Lincoln in 1542 and was moved to the diocese of London in 1550. The buildings suffered—neglect, second-rate repairs, even active damage. Richard Lee purchased all the buildings, except the church and chapel and some other Crown premises, in 1550. Lee then began the systematic demolition for building material to improve Lee Hall at Sopwell. In 1551, with the stone removed, Lee returned the land to the abbot. The area was named Abbey Ruins for the next 200 years or so.

 

In 1553 the Lady chapel became a school, the Great Gatehouse a town jail, some other buildings passed to the Crown, and the Abbey Church was sold to the town for £400 in 1553 by King Edward VI to be the church of the parish.

 

The cost of upkeep fell upon the town, although in 1596 and at irregular intervals later the Archdeacon was allowed to collect money for repairs by Brief in the diocese. After James I visited in 1612 he authorised another Brief, which collected around £2,000—most of which went on roof repairs. The English Civil War slashed the monies spent on repairs, while the abbey was used to hold prisoners of war and suffered from their vandalism, as well as that of their guards. Most of the metal objects that had survived the Dissolution were also removed and other ornamental parts were damaged in Puritan sternness. Another round of fund-raising in 1681–84 was again spent on the roof, repairing the Presbytery vault. A royal grant from William and Mary in 1689 went on general maintenance, 'repairs' to conceal some of the unfashionable Gothic features, and on new internal fittings. There was a second royal grant from William in 1698.

By the end of the 17th century the dilapidation was sufficient for a number of writers to comment upon it.

 

In 1703, from 26 November to 1 December, the Great Storm raged across southern England; the abbey lost the south transept window which was replaced in wood at a cost of £40. The window was clear glass with five lights and three transoms in an early Gothic Revival style by John Hawgood. Other windows, although not damaged in the storm, were a constant drain on the abbey budget in the 18th century.

 

A brief in 1723–24, seeking £5,775, notes a great crack in the south wall, that the north wall was eighteen inches from vertical, and that the roof timbers were decayed to the point of danger. The money raised was spent on the nave roof over ten bays.

 

Another brief was not issued until 1764. Again the roof was rotting, as was the south transept window, walls were cracked or shattered in part and the south wall had subsided and now leant outwards. Despite a target of £2,500 a mere £600 was raised.

In the 1770s the abbey came close to demolition; the expense of repairs meant a scheme to destroy the abbey and erect a smaller church almost succeeded.

 

A storm in 1797 caused some subsidence, cracking open graves, scattering pavement tiles, flooding the church interior and leaving a few more arches off-vertical.

 

19th century

 

The Wallingford Screen of c. 1480—the statues are Victorian replacements (1884–89) of the originals, destroyed in the Dissolution of the Monasteries, when the screen itself was also damaged. Statues of St Alban and St Amphibalus stand on either side of the altar.

 

This century was marked with a number of repair schemes. The abbey received some money from the 1818 "Million Act", and in 1820 £450 was raised to buy an organ—a second-hand example made in 1670.

 

The major efforts to revive the abbey church came under four men—L. N. Cottingham, Rector H. J. B. Nicholson, and, especially, George Gilbert Scott and Edmund Beckett, first Baron Grimthorpe.

 

In February 1832 a portion of the clerestory wall fell through the roof of the south aisle, leaving a hole almost thirty feet long. With the need for serious repair work evident the architect Lewis Nockalls Cottingham was called in to survey the building. His Survey was presented in 1832 and was worrying reading: everywhere mortar was in a wretched condition and wooden beams were rotting and twisting. Cottingham recommended new beams throughout the roof and a new steeper pitch, removal of the spire and new timbers in the tower, new paving, ironwork to hold the west transept wall up, a new stone south transept window, new buttresses, a new drainage system for the roof, new ironwork on almost all the windows, and on and on. He estimated a cost of £14,000. A public subscription of £4,000 was raised, of which £1,700 vanished in expenses. With the limited funds the clerestory wall was rebuilt, the nave roof re-leaded, the tower spike removed, some forty blocked windows reopened and glazed, and the south window remade in stone.

 

Henry Nicholson, rector from 1835 to 1866, was also active in repairing the abbey church—as far as he could, and in uncovering lost or neglected Gothic features.

 

In 1856 repair efforts began again; £4,000 was raised and slow moves started to gain the abbey the status of cathedral. George Gilbert Scottwas appointed the project architect and oversaw a number of works from 1860 until his death in 1878.

Scott began by having the medieval floor restored, necessitating the removal of tons of earth, and fixing the north aisle roof. From 1872–77 the restored floors were re-tiled in matching stone and copies of old tile designs. A further 2,000 tons of earth were shifted in 1863 during work on the foundation and a new drainage system. In 1870 the tower piers were found to be badly weakened with many cracks and cavities. Huge timbers were inserted and the arches filled with brick as an emergency measure. Repair work took until May 1871 and cost over £2,000. The south wall of the nave was now far from straight; Scott reinforced the north wall and put in scaffolding to take the weight of the roof off the wall, then had it jacked straight in under three hours. The wall was then buttressed with five huge new masses and set right. Scott was lauded as "saviour of the Abbey." From 1870–75 around £20,000 was spent on the abbey.

In 1845 St Albans was transferred from the Diocese of Lincoln to the Diocese of Rochester. Then, in 1875, the Bishopric of St Albans Act was passed and on 30 April 1877 the See of St Albans was created, which comprises about 300 churches in the counties of Hertfordshire and Bedfordshire. The then Bishop of Rochester, the Right Revd Dr Thomas Legh Claughton, elected to take the northern division of his old diocese and on 12 June 1877 was enthroned first Bishop of St Albans, a position he held until 1890. He is buried in the churchyard on the north side of the nave.

George Gilbert Scott was working on the nave roof, vaulting and west bay when he died on 27 March 1878. His plans were partially completed by his son, John Oldrid Scott, but the remaining work fell into the hands of Lord Grimthorpe, whose efforts have attracted much controversy—Nikolaus Pevsner calling him a "pompous, righteous bully." However, he donated much of the immense sum of £130,000 the work cost.

 

Whereas Scott's work had clearly been in sympathy with the existing building, Grimthorpe's plans reflected the Victorian ideal. Indeed, he spent considerable time dismissing and criticising the work of Scott and the efforts of his son.

Grimthorpe first reinstated the original pitch of the roof, although the battlements added for the lower roof were retained. Completed in 1879, the roof was leaded, following on Scott's desires.

 

1805 engraving of the west front of the abbey showing the lost Wheathampstead window.

His second major project was the most controversial. The west front, with the great Wheathampstead window, was cracked and leaning, and Grimthorpe, never more than an amateur architect, designed the new front himself—attacked as dense, misproportioned and unsympathetic: "His impoverishment as a designer ... [is] evident"; "this man, so practical and ingenious, was utterly devoid of taste ... his great qualities were marred by arrogance ... and a lack of historic sense". Counter proposals were deliberately substituted by Grimthorpe for poorly drawn versions and Grimthorpe's design was accepted?. During building it was considerably reworked in order to fit the actual frontage and is not improved by the poor quality sculpture. Work began in 1880 and was completed in April 1883, having cost £20,000.

 

The Lady Chapel at the east end of the cathedral.

Grimthorpe was noted for his aversion to the Perpendicular—to the extent that he would have sections he disliked demolished as "too rotten" rather than remade. In his reconstruction, especially of windows, he commonly mixed architectural styles carelessly (see the south aisle, the south choir screen and vaulting). He spent £50,000 remaking the nave. Elsewhere he completely rebuilt the south wall cloisters, with new heavy buttresses, and removed the arcading of the east cloisters during rebuilding the south transept walls. In the south transept he completely remade the south face, completed in 1885, including the huge lancet window group—his proudest achievement—and the flanking turrets; a weighty new tiled roof was also made. In the north transept Grimthorpe had the Perpendicular window demolished and his design inserted—a rose window of circles, cusped circles and lozenges arrayed in five rings around the central light, sixty-four lights in total, each circle with a different glazing pattern.

 

Grimthorpe continued through the Presbytery in his own style, adapting the antechapel for Consistory Courts, and into the Lady Chapel. After a pointed lawsuit with Henry Hucks Gibbs, first Baron Aldenham over who should direct the restoration, Grimthorpe had the vault remade and reproportioned in stone, made the floor in black and white marble (1893), and had new Victorian arcading and sculpture put below the canopy work. Externally the buttresses were expanded to support the new roof, and the walls were refaced.

As early as 1897, Grimthorpe was having to return to previously renovated sections to make repairs. His use of over-strong cement led to cracking, while his fondness for ironwork in windows led to corrosion and damage to the surrounding stone.

Grimthorpe died in 1905 and was interred in the churchyard. He left a bequest for continuing work on the buildings.

 

During this century the name St Albans Abbey was given to one of the town's railway stations.

 

20th century

John Oldrid Scott (died 1913) (George Gilbert Scott's son), despite frequent clashes with Grimthorpe, had continued working within the cathedral. Scott was a steadfast supporter of the Gothic revival and designed the tomb of the first bishop; he had a new bishop's throne built (1903), together with commemorative stalls for Bishop Festing and two Archdeacons, and new choir stalls. He also repositioned and rebuilt the organ (1907). Further work was interrupted by the war.

A number of memorials to the war were added to the cathedral, notably the painting The Passing of Eleanor by Frank Salisbury (stolen 1973) and the reglazing of the main west window, dedicated in 1925.

 

Following the Enabling Act of 1919 control of the buildings passed to a Parochial Church Council (replaced by the Cathedral Council in 1968), who appointed the woodwork specialist John Rogers as Architect and Surveyor of the Fabric. He uncovered extensive death watch beetledamage in the presbytery vault and oversaw the repair (1930–31). He had four tons of rubbish removed from the crossing tower and the main timbers reinforced (1931–32), and invested in the extensive use of insecticide throughout the wood structures. In 1934, the eight bells were overhauled and four new bells added to be used in the celebration of George V's jubilee.

 

Cecil Brown was architect and surveyor from 1939 to 1962. At first he merely oversaw the lowering of the bells for the war and established a fire watch, with the pump in the slype. After the war, in the 1950s, the organ was removed, rebuilt and reinstalled and new pews added. His major work was on the crossing tower. Grimthorpe's cement was found to be damaging the Roman bricks: every brick in the tower was replaced as needed and reset in proper mortar by one man, Walter Barrett. The tower ceiling was renovated as were the nave murals. Brown established the Muniments Room to gather and hold all the church documents.

In 1972, to encourage a closer link between celebrant and congregation, the massive nine-ton pulpit along with the choir stalls and permanent pews was dismantled and removed. The altar space was enlarged and improved. New 'lighter' wood (limed oak) choir stalls were put in, and chairs replaced the pews. A new wooden pulpit was acquired from a Norfolk church and installed in 1974. External floodlighting was added in 1975.

A major survey in 1974 revealed new leaks, decay and other deterioration, and a ten-year restoration plan was agreed. Again the roofing required much work. The nave and clerestory roofs were repaired in four stages with new leading. The nave project was completed in 1984 at a total cost of £1.75 million. The clerestory windows were repaired with the corroded iron replaced with delta bronze and other Grimthorpe work on the clerestory was replaced. Seventy-two new heads for the corbel table were made. Grimthorpe's west front was cracking, again due to the use originally of too strong a mortar, and was repaired.

 

A new visitors' centre was proposed in 1970. Planning permission was sought in 1973; there was a public inquiry and approval was granted in 1977. Constructed to the south side of the cathedral close to the site of the original chapter house of the abbey, the new 'Chapter House' cost around £1 million and was officially opened on 8 June 1982 by Queen Elizabeth. The main building material was 500,000 replica Roman bricks.

 

Other late 20th-century works include the restoration of Alban's shrine, with a new embroidered canopy, and the stained glass designed by Alan Younger for Grimthorpe's north transept rose window, unveiled in 1989 by Diana, Princess of Wales.

 

Modern times

The Bishop is the Right Reverend Alan Smith, installed in September 2009. The Venerable Jonathan Smith is Archdeacon of St Albans, installed in October 2008. On 2 July 2004, the Very Reverend Canon Dr Jeffrey John became the ninth Dean of the Cathedral.

 

Robert Runcie, later Archbishop of Canterbury, was bishop of St Albans from 1970 to 1980 and returned to live in the city after his retirement; he is commemorated by a gargoyle on the Cathedral as well as being buried in the graveyard. Colin Slee, former Dean of Southwark Cathedral, was sub-dean at St Albans under Runcie and then Dean, Peter Moore. The bishop's house is in Abbey Mill Lane, St Albans, as is the house of the Bishop of Hertford. The Reverend Canon Eric James, Chaplain Extraordinary to HM the Queen, was Canon at St Albans for many years.

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Albans_Cathedral

 

Photoblog: 06 May 2009

 

Array

This photo was taken through a set of manhole pipes kept in array on a road in south kolkata.No superimposition was adopted.I dedicate this photo to all my dear friends and enthusiasts and of course my family members for their constant support and enthusiasm.

The lighthouse at the pier head was completed in 1903. Its distinctive stripes are of naturally coloured red and white Aberdeen granite. When built it was said to be Britain's most powerful port lighthouse. Equipped with a third-order rotating catadioptric optic (consisting of a single-panel Fresnel lens backed by a prismatic mirror), it displayed a single flash every five seconds. The lighthouse had initially (like its predecessors) been lit by gas from the town mains, but the supply to the end of the pier was found to be intermittent so the gas light was soon replaced by a Chance Brothers incandescent petroleum vapour mantle lamp. This increased the effective intensity of the light from 40,000 to 150,000 candle power, to give it a range of 15 nautical miles (28 km; 17 mi).

 

A fog siren was also provided, powered by compressed air from a pair of 7-horsepower gas engines located in the basement. It gave a two-second blast every twenty seconds in foggy weather from a sounder on the parapet, which was regulated by clockwork

 

The light was semi-automated in 1936 when a new light system was installed by AGA. The main lamp was a 750-watt incandescent light bulb, with a gas mantle lamp (fed from the town supply) provided as a stand-by, activated by an automatic lamp changer; and a small electric motor automatically wound the clockwork which rotated the lens.

 

Full automation followed in 1972, when the old optic was replaced by two back-to-back arrays of six sealed beam units mounted on an AGA gearless rotating pedestal, to give the light an increased range of 23 nautical miles (43 km; 26 mi); a new fog horn was also provided at the same time. The system was supervised remotely from the Pilot House on the Old North Pier. Subsequent to its removal the 1903 optic was added to the maritime collection of Sunderland Museum and Art Gallery.

 

In 2007 the lighting system was again replaced with a dual-drive Pelangi PRL400 rotating pedestal and lamp.

 

Roker Pier Lighthouse still functions today. Both pier and lighthouse have undergone significant refurbishment in recent years. In 2012, as part of the restoration, a new flashing LED lamp array was installed, replacing the small Pelangi unit previously in use. In 2018, following a comprehensive six-year process of refurbishment, the lighthouse was opened to the public for the first time; regular guided tours now take place, with access provided by way of the tunnel which runs the length of the pier.

 

Sunderland is a port city[a] in Tyne and Wear, North East England. It is located at the mouth of the River Wear on the North Sea, approximately 10 miles (16 km) south-east of Newcastle upon Tyne. The city has a population of 168,277, making it the second largest settlement in the North East after Newcastle. It is the administrative centre of the metropolitan borough of the same name.

 

The centre of the modern city is an amalgamation of three settlements founded in the Anglo-Saxon era: Monkwearmouth, on the north bank of the Wear, and Sunderland and Bishopwearmouth on the south bank. Monkwearmouth contains St Peter's Church, which was founded in 674 and formed part of Monkwearmouth–Jarrow Abbey, a significant centre of learning in the seventh and eighth centuries. Sunderland was a fishing settlement and later a port, being granted a town charter in 1179. The city traded in coal and salt, also developing shipbuilding industry in the fourteenth century and glassmaking industry in the seventeenth century. Following the decline of its traditional industries in the late 20th century, the area became an automotive building centre. In 1992, the borough of Sunderland was granted city status. It is historically part of County Durham.

 

Locals from the city are sometimes known as Mackems, a term which came into common use in the 1970s. ; its use and acceptance by residents, particularly among the older generations, is not universal. The term is also applied to the Sunderland dialect, which shares similarities with the other North East England dialects.

 

In 685, King Ecgfrith granted Benedict Biscop a "sunder-land". Also in 685 The Venerable Bede moved to the newly founded Jarrow monastery. He had started his monastic career at Monkwearmouth monastery and later wrote that he was "ácenned on sundorlande þæs ylcan mynstres" (born in a separate land of this same monastery). This can be taken as "sundorlande" (being Old English for "separate land") or the settlement of Sunderland. Alternatively, it is possible that Sunderland was later named in honour of Bede's connections to the area by people familiar with this statement of his.

 

Early history

The earliest inhabitants of the Sunderland area were Stone Age hunter-gatherers and artifacts from this era have been discovered, including microliths found during excavations at St Peter's Church, Monkwearmouth. During the final phase of the Stone Age, the Neolithic period (c. 4000 – c. 2000 BC), Hastings Hill, on the western outskirts of Sunderland, was a focal point of activity and a place of burial and ritual significance. Evidence includes the former presence of a cursus monument.

 

Roman Empire

It is believed the Brigantes inhabited the area around the River Wear in the pre- and post-Roman era. There is a long-standing local legend that there was a Roman settlement on the south bank of the River Wear on what is the site of the former Vaux Brewery, although no archaeological investigation has taken place.

 

In March 2021, a "trove" of Roman artefacts were recovered in the River Wear at North Hylton, including four stone anchors, a discovery of huge significance that may affirm a persistent theory of a Roman Dam or Port existing at the River Wear.

 

Recorded settlements at the mouth of the Wear date to 674, when an Anglo-Saxon nobleman, Benedict Biscop, granted land by King Ecgfrith of Northumbria, founded the Wearmouth–Jarrow (St Peter's) monastery on the north bank of the river—an area that became known as Monkwearmouth. Biscop's monastery was the first built of stone in Northumbria. He employed glaziers from France and in doing he re-established glass making in Britain. In 686 the community was taken over by Ceolfrid, and Wearmouth–Jarrow became a major centre of learning and knowledge in Anglo-Saxon England with a library of around 300 volumes.

 

The Codex Amiatinus, described by White as the 'finest book in the world', was created at the monastery and was likely worked on by Bede, who was born at Wearmouth in 673. This is one of the oldest monasteries still standing in England. While at the monastery, Bede completed the Historia ecclesiastica gentis Anglorum (The Ecclesiastical History of the English People) in 731, a feat which earned him the title The father of English history.

 

In the late 8th century the Vikings raided the coast, and by the middle of the 9th century the monastery had been abandoned. Lands on the south side of the river were granted to the Bishop of Durham by Athelstan of England in 930; these became known as Bishopwearmouth and included settlements such as Ryhope which fall within the modern boundary of Sunderland.

 

Medieval developments after the Norman conquest

In 1100, Bishopwearmouth parish included a fishing village at the southern mouth of the river (now the East End) known as 'Soender-land' (which evolved into 'Sunderland'). This settlement was granted a charter in 1179 by Hugh Pudsey, then the Bishop of Durham (who had quasi-monarchical power within the County Palatine); the charter gave its merchants the same rights as those of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, but it nevertheless took time for Sunderland to develop as a port. Fishing was the main commercial activity at the time: mainly herring in the 13th century, then salmon in the 14th and 15th centuries. From 1346 ships were being built at Wearmouth, by a merchant named Thomas Menville, and by 1396 a small amount of coal was being exported.

 

Rapid growth of the port was initially prompted by the salt trade. Salt exports from Sunderland are recorded from as early as the 13th century, but in 1589 salt pans were laid at Bishopwearmouth Panns (the modern-day name of the area the pans occupied is Pann's Bank, on the river bank between the city centre and the East End). Large vats of seawater were heated using coal; as the water evaporated, the salt remained. As coal was required to heat the salt pans, a coal mining community began to emerge. Only poor-quality coal was used in salt panning; better-quality coal was traded via the port, which subsequently began to grow.

 

17th century

Both salt and coal continued to be exported through the 17th century, but the coal trade grew significantly (2–3,000 tons of coal were exported from Sunderland in the year 1600; by 1680 this had increased to 180,000 tons). Because of the difficulty for colliers trying to navigate the shallow waters of the Wear, coal mined further inland was loaded onto keels (large, flat-bottomed boats) and taken downriver to the waiting colliers. The keels were manned by a close-knit group of workers known as 'keelmen'.

 

In 1634 a charter was granted by Bishop Thomas Morton, which incorporated the inhabitants of the 'antient borough' of Sunderland as the 'Mayor, Aldermen and Commonality' of the Borough and granted the privilege of a market and an annual fair. While as a consequence a mayor and twelve aldermen were appointed and a common council established, their establishment does not seem to have survived the ensuing Civil War.

 

Before the 1st English civil war the North, with the exclusion of Kingston upon Hull, declared for the King. In 1644 the North was captured by parliament. The villages that later become Sunderland, were taken in March 1644. One artifact of the English civil war near this area was the long trench; a tactic of later warfare. In the village of Offerton roughly three miles inland from the area, skirmishes occurred. Parliament also blockaded the River Tyne, crippling the Newcastle coal trade which allowed the coal trade of the area to flourish for a short period. There was intense rivalry between the ports of Sunderland and Newcastle when the two towns took opposing sides in the Civil War.

 

In 1669, after the Restoration, King Charles II granted letters patent to one Edward Andrew, Esq. to 'build a pier and erect a lighthouse or lighthouses and cleanse the harbour of Sunderland', and authorised the levying of a tonnage duty on shipping in order to raise the necessary funds; however it took time before these improvements were realized.

 

There is evidence of a growing number of shipbuilders or boatbuilders being active on the River Wear in the late 17th century: among others, the banking family Goodchilds opened a building yard in 1672 (it eventually closed when the bank went out of business in 1821); and in 1691 one Thomas Burn aged 17 is recorded as having taken over the running of a yard from his mother.

 

18th century

The River Wear Commission was formed in 1717 in response to the growing prosperity of Sunderland as a port. Under the Board of Commissioners (a committee of local land owners, ship owners, colliery owners and merchants) a succession of civil engineers adapted the natural riverscape to meet the needs of maritime trade and shipbuilding. Their first major harbour work was the construction in stone of the South Pier (later known as the Old South Pier), begun in 1723 with the aim of diverting the river channel away from sandbanks; the building of the South Pier continued until 1759. By 1748 the river was being manually dredged. A northern counterpart to the South Pier was not yet in place; instead, a temporary breakwater was formed at around this time, consisting of a row of piles driven into the seabed interspersed with old keelboats. From 1786 work began on a more permanent North Pier (which was later known as the Old North Pier): it was formed from a wooden frame, filled with stones and faced with masonry, and eventually extended 1,500 ft (460 m) into the sea. The work was initially overseen by Robert Stout (the Wear Commissioners' Engineer from 1781 to 1795). In 1794 a lighthouse was built at the seaward end, by which time around half the pier had been enclosed in masonry; it was completed in 1802.

 

By the start of the 18th century the banks of the Wear were described as being studded with small shipyards, as far as the tide flowed. After 1717, measures having been taken to increase the depth of the river, Sunderland's shipbuilding trade grew substantially (in parallel with its coal exports). A number of warships were built, alongside many commercial sailing ships. By the middle of the century the town was probably the premier shipbuilding centre in Britain. By 1788 Sunderland was Britain's fourth largest port (by measure of tonnage) after London, Newcastle and Liverpool; among these it was the leading coal exporter (though it did not rival Newcastle in terms of home coal trade). Still further growth was driven across the region, towards the end of the century, by London's insatiable demand for coal during the French Revolutionary Wars.

 

Sunderland's third-biggest export, after coal and salt, was glass. The town's first modern glassworks were established in the 1690s and the industry grew through the 17th century. Its flourishing was aided by trading ships bringing good-quality sand (as ballast) from the Baltic and elsewhere which, together with locally available limestone (and coal to fire the furnaces) was a key ingredient in the glassmaking process. Other industries that developed alongside the river included lime burning and pottery making (the town's first commercial pottery manufactory, the Garrison Pottery, had opened in old Sunderland in 1750).

 

The world's first steam dredger was built in Sunderland in 1796-7 and put to work on the river the following year. Designed by Stout's successor as Engineer, Jonathan Pickernell jr (in post from 1795 to 1804), it consisted of a set of 'bag and spoon' dredgers driven by a tailor-made 4-horsepower Boulton & Watt beam engine. It was designed to dredge to a maximum depth of 10 ft (3.0 m) below the waterline and remained in operation until 1804, when its constituent parts were sold as separate lots. Onshore, numerous small industries supported the business of the burgeoning port. In 1797 the world's first patent ropery (producing machine-made rope, rather than using a ropewalk) was built in Sunderland, using a steam-powered hemp-spinning machine which had been devised by a local schoolmaster, Richard Fothergill, in 1793; the ropery building still stands, in the Deptford area of the city.

 

Urban developments

In 1719, the parish of Sunderland was carved from the densely populated east end of Bishopwearmouth by the establishment of a new parish church, Holy Trinity Church, Sunderland (today also known as Sunderland Old Parish Church). Later, in 1769, St John's Church was built as a chapel of ease within Holy Trinity parish; built by a local coal fitter, John Thornhill, it stood in Prospect Row to the north-east of the parish church. (St John's was demolished in 1972.) By 1720 the port area was completely built up, with large houses and gardens facing the Town Moor and the sea, and labourers' dwellings vying with manufactories alongside the river. The three original settlements of Wearmouth (Bishopwearmouth, Monkwearmouth and Sunderland) had begun to combine, driven by the success of the port of Sunderland and salt panning and shipbuilding along the banks of the river. Around this time, Sunderland was known as 'Sunderland-near-the-Sea'.

 

By 1770 Sunderland had spread westwards along its High Street to join up with Bishopwearmouth. In 1796 Bishopwearmouth in turn gained a physical link with Monkwearmouth following the construction of a bridge, the Wearmouth Bridge, which was the world's second iron bridge (after the famous span at Ironbridge). It was built at the instigation of Rowland Burdon, the Member of Parliament (MP) for County Durham, and described by Nikolaus Pevsner as being 'a triumph of the new metallurgy and engineering ingenuity [...] of superb elegance'. Spanning the river in a single sweep of 236 feet (72 m), it was over twice the length of the earlier bridge at Ironbridge but only three-quarters the weight. At the time of building, it was the biggest single-span bridge in the world; and because Sunderland had developed on a plateau above the river, it never suffered from the problem of interrupting the passage of high-masted vessels.

 

Defences

During the War of Jenkins' Ear a pair of gun batteries were built (in 1742 and 1745) on the shoreline to the south of the South Pier, to defend the river from attack (a further battery was built on the cliff top in Roker, ten years later). One of the pair was washed away by the sea in 1780, but the other was expanded during the French Revolutionary Wars and became known as the Black Cat Battery. In 1794 Sunderland Barracks were built, behind the battery, close to what was then the tip of the headland.

 

19th century

In 1802 a new, 72 ft (22 m) high octagonal stone lighthouse was built on the end of the newly finished North Pier, designed by the chief Engineer Jonathan Pickernell. At the same time he built a lighthouse on the South Pier, which showed a red light (or by day a red flag) when the tide was high enough for ships to pass into the river. From 1820 Pickernell's lighthouse was lit by gas from its own gasometer. In 1840 work began to extend the North Pier to 1,770 ft (540 m) and the following year its lighthouse was moved in one piece, on a wooden cradle, to its new seaward end, remaining lit each night throughout the process.

 

Local government

In 1809 an Act of Parliament was passed creating an Improvement Commission, for 'paving, lighting, cleansing, watching and otherwise improving the town of Sunderland'; this provided the beginnings of a structure of local government for the township as a whole. Commissioners were appointed, with the power to levy contributions towards the works detailed in the Act, and in 1812–14 the Exchange Building was built, funded by public subscription, to serve as a combined Town Hall, Watch House, Market Hall, Magistrate's Court, Post Office and News Room. It became a regular gathering place for merchants conducting business, and the public rooms on the first floor were available for public functions when not being used for meetings of the Commissioners. By 1830 the Commissioners had made a number of improvements, ranging from the establishment of a police force to installing gas lighting across much of the town.

 

In other aspects, however, Local government was still divided between the three parishes (Holy Trinity Church, Sunderland, St Michael's, Bishopwearmouth, and St Peter's Church, Monkwearmouth) and when cholera broke out in 1831 their select vestrymen were unable to cope with the epidemic. Sunderland, a main trading port at the time, was the first British town to be struck with the 'Indian cholera' epidemic. The first victim, William Sproat, died on 23 October 1831. Sunderland was put into quarantine, and the port was blockaded, but in December of that year the disease spread to Gateshead and from there, it rapidly made its way across the country, killing an estimated 32,000 people; among those to die was Sunderland's Naval hero Jack Crawford. (The novel The Dress Lodger by American author Sheri Holman is set in Sunderland during the epidemic.)

 

Demands for democracy and organised town government saw the three parishes incorporated as the Borough of Sunderland in 1835. Later, the Sunderland Borough Act of 1851 abolished the Improvement Commission and vested its powers in the new Corporation.

 

Coal, staiths, railways and docks

In the early nineteenth century 'the three great proprietors of collieries upon the Wear [were] Lord Durham, the Marquis of Londonderry and the Hetton Company'. In 1822 the Hetton colliery railway was opened, linking the company's collieries with staiths ('Hetton Staiths') on the riverside at Bishopwearmouth, where coal drops delivered the coal directly into waiting ships. Engineered by George Stephenson, it was the first railway in the world to be operated without animal power, and at the time (albeit briefly) was the longest railway in the world. At the same time Lord Durham began establishing rail links to an adjacent set of staiths ('Lambton Staiths'). Lord Londonderry, on the other hand, continued conveying his coal downriver on keels; but he was working on establishing his own separate port down the coast at Seaham Harbour.

 

Although the volume of coal exports were increasing, there was a growing concern that without the establishment of a purpose-built dock Sunderland would start losing trade to Newcastle and Hartlepool. The colliery rail links were on the south side of the river, but Sir Hedworth Williamson, who owned much of the land on the north bank, seized the initiative. He formed the Wearmouth Dock Company in 1832, obtained a Royal Charter for establishing a dock at Monkwearmouth riverside, and engaged no less a figure than Isambard Kingdom Brunel to provide designs (not only for docks but also for a double-deck suspension bridge to provide a rail link to the opposite side of the river). Building of the dock went ahead (albeit the smallest of Brunel's proposals) but not of the bridge; the resulting North Dock, opened in 1837, soon proved too small at 6 acres (2.4 ha), and it suffered through lack of a direct rail link to the colliery lines south of the Wear (instead, it would be linked, by way of the Brandling Junction Railway from 1839, to collieries in the Gateshead area).

 

Also in Monkwearmouth, further upstream, work began in 1826 on sinking a pit in the hope of reaching the seams of coal (even though, at this location, they were deep underground). Seven years later, coal was struck at 180 fathoms; digging deeper, the Bensham seam was found the following year at 267 fathoms and in 1835 Wearmouth Colliery, which was then the deepest mine in the world, began producing coal. When the superior Hutton seam was reached, at a still greater depth in 1846, the mine (which had begun as a speculative enterprise by Messrs Pemberton and Thompson) began to be profitable.

 

Meanwhile, south of the river, the Durham & Sunderland Railway Co. built a railway line across the Town Moor and established a passenger terminus there in 1836. In 1847 the line was bought by George Hudson's York and Newcastle Railway. Hudson, nicknamed 'The Railway King', was Member of Parliament for Sunderland and was already involved in a scheme to build a dock in the area. In 1846 he had formed the Sunderland Dock Company, which received parliamentary approval for the construction of a dock between the South Pier and Hendon Bay. The engineer overseeing the project was John Murray; the foundation stone for the entrance basin was laid in February 1848, and by the end of the year excavation of the new dock was largely complete, the spoil being used in the associated land reclamation works. Lined with limestone and entered from the river by way of a half tide basin, the dock (later named Hudson Dock) was formally opened by Hudson on 20 June 1850. Most of the dockside to the west was occupied with coal staiths linked to the railway line, but there was also a warehouse and granary built at the northern end by John Dobson in 1856 (this, along with a second warehouse dating from the 1860s, was demolished in 1992).

 

In 1850–56 a half-tidal sea-entrance was constructed at the south-east corner of the dock, protected by a pair of breakwaters, to allow larger ships to enter the dock direct from the North Sea. At the same time (1853–55) Hudson Dock itself was extended southwards and deepened, and, alongside the entrance basin to the north, the first of a pair of public graving docks was built. In 1854 the Londonderry, Seaham & Sunderland Railway opened, linking the Londonderry and South Hetton collieries to a separate set of staiths at Hudson Dock South. It also provided a passenger service from Sunderland to Seaham Harbour.

 

In 1859 the docks were purchased by the River Wear Commissioners. Under Thomas Meik as engineer the docks were further extended with the construction of Hendon Dock to the south (1864–67). (Hendon Dock was entered via Hudson Dock South, but in 1870 it too was provided with a half-tidal sea-entrance providing direct access from the North Sea.) Under Meik's successor, Henry Hay Wake, Hudson Dock was further enlarged and the entrances were improved: in 1875 lock gates were installed (along with a swing bridge) at the river entrance, to allow entry at all states of the tide; they were powered by hydraulic machinery, installed by Sir William Armstrong in the adjacent dock office building. Similarly, a new sea lock was constructed at the south-east entrance in 1877–80. The breakwater (known as the 'Northeast Pier') which protected the sea entrance to the docks was provided with a lighthouse (29 ft (8.8 m) high and of lattice construction, since demolished) which Chance Brothers equipped with a fifth-order optic and clockwork occulting mechanism in 1888; it displayed a sector light: white indicating the fairway and red indicating submerged hazards.

 

By 1889 two million tons of coal per year was passing through the dock. The eastern wharves, opposite the coal staiths, were mainly occupied by saw mills and timber yards, with large open spaces given over to the storage of pit props for use in the mines; while to the south of Hendon Dock, the Wear Fuel Works distilled coal tar to produce pitch, oil and other products.

 

After completion of the dock works, H. H. Wake embarked on the construction of Roker Pier (part of a scheme to protect the river approach by creating an outer harbour). Protection of a different kind was provided by the Wave Basin Battery, armed with four RML 80 pounder 5 ton guns, constructed just inside the Old South Pier in 1874.

 

Increasing industrialisation had prompted affluent residents to move away from the old port area, with several settling in the suburban terraces of the Fawcett Estate and Mowbray Park. The area around Fawcett Street itself increasingly functioned as the civic and commercial town centre. In 1848 George Hudson's York, Newcastle and Berwick Railway built a passenger terminus, Monkwearmouth Station, just north of Wearmouth Bridge; and south of the river another passenger terminus, in Fawcett Street, in 1853. Later, Thomas Elliot Harrison (chief engineer to the North Eastern Railway) made plans to carry the railway across the river; the Wearmouth Railway Bridge (reputedly 'the largest Hog-Back iron girder bridge in the world') opened in 1879. In 1886–90 Sunderland Town Hall was built in Fawcett Street, just to the east of the railway station, to a design by Brightwen Binyon.

 

Sunderland's shipbuilding industry continued to grow through most of the 19th century, becoming the town's dominant industry and a defining part of its identity. By 1815 it was 'the leading shipbuilding port for wooden trading vessels' with 600 ships constructed that year across 31 different yards. By 1840 the town had 76 shipyards and between 1820 and 1850 the number of ships being built on the Wear increased fivefold. From 1846 to 1854 almost a third of the UK's ships were built in Sunderland, and in 1850 the Sunderland Herald proclaimed the town to be the greatest shipbuilding port in the world.

 

During the century the size of ships being built increased and technologies evolved: in 1852 the first iron ship was launched on Wearside, built by marine engineer George Clark in partnership with shipbuilder John Barkes. Thirty years later Sunderland's ships were being built in steel (the last wooden ship having been launched in 1880). As the century progressed, the shipyards on the Wear decreased in number on the one hand, but increased in size on the other, so as to accommodate the increasing scale and complexity of ships being built.

 

Shipyards founded in the 19th century, and still operational in the 20th, included:

 

Sir James Laing & Sons (established by Philip Laing at Deptford in 1818, renamed Sir James Laing & sons in 1898)

S. P. Austin (established in 1826 at Monkwearmouth, moving across the river to a site alongside Wearmouth Bridge in 1866)

Bartram & Sons (established at Hylton in 1837, moved to South Dock in 1871)

William Doxford & Sons (established at Cox Green in 1840, moved to Pallion in 1857)

William Pickersgill's (established at Southwick in 1845)

J. L. Thompson & Sons (yard established at North Sands by Robert Thompson in 1846, taken over by his son Joseph in 1860, another son (also Robert) having established his own yard at Southwick in 1854)

John Crown & Sons (yard established at Monkwearmouth by Luke Crown (or Crone) by 1807, taken over by his grandson Jackie in 1854)

Short Brothers (established by George Short in 1850, moved to Pallion in 1866)

Sir J Priestman (established at Southwick in 1882)

Alongside the shipyards, marine engineering works were established from the 1820s onwards, initially providing engines for paddle steamers; in 1845 a ship named Experiment was the first of many to be converted to steam screw propulsion. Demand for steam-powered vessels increased during the Crimean War; nonetheless, sailing ships continued to be built, including fast fully-rigged composite-built clippers, including the City of Adelaide in 1864 and Torrens (the last such vessel ever built), in 1875.

 

Other industries

By the middle of the century glassmaking was at its height on Wearside. James Hartley & Co., established in Sunderland in 1836, grew to be the largest glassworks in the country and (having patented an innovative production technique for rolled plate glass) produced much of the glass used in the construction of the Crystal Palace in 1851. A third of all UK-manufactured plate glass was produced at Hartley's by this time. Other manufacturers included the Cornhill Flint Glassworks (established at Southwick in 1865), which went on to specialise in pressed glass, as did the Wear Flint Glassworks (which had originally been established in 1697). In addition to the plate glass and pressed glass manufacturers there were 16 bottle works on the Wear in the 1850s, with the capacity to produce between 60 and 70,000 bottles a day.

 

Local potteries also flourished in the mid-19th century, again making use of raw materials (white clay and stone) being brought into Sunderland as ballast on ships. Sunderland pottery was exported across Europe, with Sunderland Lustreware proving particularly popular in the home market; however the industry sharply declined later in the century due to foreign competition, and the largest remaining manufacturer (Southwick Pottery) closed in 1897.

 

Victoria Hall Disaster

Victoria Hall was a large concert hall on Toward Road facing Mowbray Park. The hall was the scene of a tragedy on 16 June 1883 when 183 children died. During a variety show, children rushed towards a staircase for treats. At the bottom of the staircase, the door had been opened inward and bolted in such a way as to leave only a gap wide enough for one child to pass at a time. The children surged down the stairs and those at the front were trapped and crushed by the weight of the crowd behind them.

 

The asphyxiation of 183 children aged between three and 14 is the worst disaster of its kind in British history. The memorial, a grieving mother holding a dead child, is located in Mowbray Park inside a protective canopy. Newspaper reports triggered a mood of national outrage and an inquiry recommended that public venues be fitted with a minimum number of outward opening emergency exits, which led to the invention of 'push bar' emergency doors. This law remains in force. Victoria Hall remained in use until 1941 when it was destroyed by a German bomb.

 

Lyceum Theatre

The Lyceum was a public building on Lambton Street, opened August 1852, whose many rooms included a Mechanics' Institute and a hall 90 by 40 feet (27 m × 12 m) which Edward D. Davis converted into a theatre, opened September 1854, then was gutted by fire in December the following year. It was refurbished and reopened in September 1856 as the Royal Lyceum Theatre, and is notable as the venue of Henry Irving's first successes. The building was destroyed by fire in 1880 and demolished. The site was later developed for the Salvation Army.

 

20th and 21st centuries

The public transport network was enhanced in 1900 – 1919 with an electric tram system. The trams were gradually replaced by buses during the 1940s before being completely axed in 1954. In 1909 the Queen Alexandra Bridge was built, linking Deptford and Southwick.

 

The First World War led to a notable increase in shipbuilding but also resulted in the town being targeted by a Zeppelin raid in 1916. The Monkwearmouth area was struck on 1 April 1916 and 22 lives were lost. Many citizens also served in the armed forces during this period, over 25,000 men from a population of 151,000.

 

In the wake of the First World War, and on through the Great Depression of the 1930s, shipbuilding dramatically declined: the number of shipyards on the Wear went from fifteen in 1921 to six in 1937. The small yards of J. Blumer & Son (at North Dock) and the Sunderland Shipbuilding Co. Ltd. (at Hudson Dock) both closed in the 1920s, and other yards were closed down by National Shipbuilders Securities in the 1930s (including Osbourne, Graham & Co., way upriver at North Hylton, Robert Thompson & Sons at Southwick, and the 'overflow' yards operated by Swan, Hunter & Wigham Richardson and William Gray & Co.).

 

With the outbreak of World War II in 1939, Sunderland was a key target of the German Luftwaffe, who claimed the lives of 267 people in the town, caused damage or destruction to 4,000 homes, and devastated local industry. After the war, more housing was developed. The town's boundaries expanded in 1967 when neighbouring Ryhope, Silksworth, Herrington, South Hylton and Castletown were incorporated into Sunderland.

 

During the second half of the 20th century shipbuilding and coalmining declined; shipbuilding ended in 1988 and coalmining in 1993. At the worst of the unemployment crisis up to 20 per cent of the local workforce were unemployed in the mid-1980s.

 

As the former heavy industries declined, new industries were developed (including electronic, chemical, paper and motor manufacture) and the service sector expanded during the 1980s and 1990s. In 1986 Japanese car manufacturer Nissan opened its Nissan Motor Manufacturing UK factory in Washington, which has since become the UK's largest car factory.

 

From 1990, the banks of the Wear were regenerated with the creation of housing, retail parks and business centres on former shipbuilding sites. Alongside the creation of the National Glass Centre the University of Sunderland has built a new campus on the St Peter's site. The clearance of the Vaux Breweries site on the north west fringe of the city centre created a further opportunity for development in the city centre.

 

Sunderland received city status in 1992. Like many cities, Sunderland comprises a number of areas with their own distinct histories, Fulwell, Monkwearmouth, Roker, and Southwick on the northern side of the Wear, and Bishopwearmouth and Hendon to the south. On 24 March 2004, the city adopted Benedict Biscop as its patron saint.

 

The 20th century saw Sunderland A.F.C. established as the Wearside area's greatest claim to sporting fame. Founded in 1879 as Sunderland and District Teachers A.F.C. by schoolmaster James Allan, Sunderland joined The Football League for the 1890–91 season. By 1936 the club had been league champions on five occasions. They won their first FA Cup in 1937, but their only post-World War II major honour came in 1973 when they won a second FA Cup. They have had a checkered history and dropped into the old third division for a season and been relegated thrice from the Premier League, twice with the lowest points ever, earning the club a reputation as a yo-yo club. After 99 years at the historic Roker Park stadium, the club moved to the 42,000-seat Stadium of Light on the banks of the River Wear in 1997. At the time, it was the largest stadium built by an English football club since the 1920s, and has since been expanded to hold nearly 50,000 seated spectators.

 

In 2018 Sunderland was ranked as the best city to live and work in the UK by the finance firm OneFamily. In the same year, Sunderland was ranked as one of the top 10 safest cities in the UK.

 

Many fine old buildings remain despite the bombing that occurred during World War II. Religious buildings include Holy Trinity Church, built in 1719 for an independent Sunderland, St Michael's Church, built as Bishopwearmouth Parish Church and now known as Sunderland Minster and St Peter's Church, Monkwearmouth, part of which dates from AD 674, and was the original monastery. St Andrew's Church, Roker, known as the "Cathedral of the Arts and Crafts Movement", contains work by William Morris, Ernest Gimson and Eric Gill. St Mary's Catholic Church is the earliest surviving Gothic revival church in the city.

 

Sunderland Civic Centre was designed by Spence Bonnington & Collins and was officially opened by Princess Margaret, Countess of Snowdon in 1970. It closed in November 2021, following the opening of a new City Hall on the former Vaux Brewery redevelopment site.

 

Arreglo de orificios

How neat are macro lenses? They're pretty neat.

They will not enter our lands!

Scan of Slide S4807 The White Glove by George Lambert:

LAMBERT, George

Russia 1873 – Australia 1930

Australia 1887-1900; England 1900-01; France 1901-02; England 1902-21; Australia from 1921

 

The white glove 1921

oil on canvas

106.0 (h) x 78.0 (w) cm

signed and dated 'G.W.LAMBERT/ 1921' lower right

Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney, purchased in 1922 Sydney photograph: Jenni Carter for AGNSW

 

VIEW: Article |

  

This is a lively bravura portrait of a modern Melbourne woman of fashion, style and elegance. It has an arresting vitality. Her belongings, a luscious blue stole, elegant feathered hat and jewelled ring, are as much the subject of this work as is Miss Collins herself, and contribute to it a sense of opulence. Her flamboyant pose, with her head slightly tilted back and poised to one side, and her arms caught in mid-action, matches her vivacious personality. Her eyes appear to be laughing in accord with her smile and she seems to be deliberately posing or hamming it up for the artist.

 

The subject, Miss Gladys Neville Collins, was the daughter of J.T. Collins, lawyer, Victorian State Parliamentary draughtsman, and trustee of the Public Library, Museums and National Gallery of Victoria. Lambert appears to have enjoyed painting her portrait and described her to Amy on 10 December 1921 as ‘a dear girl [who] sits for the fun of it and because her Dad thinks I am it’ (ML MSS 97/10, p.393).

 

Lambert portrayed the individual features of Miss Collins but, with her collaboration, he arranged them to denote a characteristic type. Miss Collins’s tilted head, her half-open mouth, half-closed eyes, and almost-bare right arm suggest an individual sensuality, but they also indicate a form of codified (sexual) behaviour. Lambert's portrait presents a witty version of the pose of Bernini’s Ecstasy of St Teresa 1645–52 (Cornaro Chapel, Santa Maria della Vittoria, Rome), an established expression of the ecstatic experience, and one which was subsequently taken up by photographers, film-makers and advertisers.

 

What is more, Lambert presented Miss Collins in a variation of the pose used by Joshua Reynolds in his portrait Sarah Siddons as the Tragic Muse 1784, which in 1921 (the year Lambert painted this portrait) the Duke of Westminster had controversially sold to The Huntington Library and Art Collection in California. By associating Miss Collins with this classic image of a leading actress, he hinted that she was playing a role in this portrait. It is also possible that Lambert knew Sargent’s Portrait of Ena Wertheimer: a vele gonfie of 1905 (Tate, London), a lively portrait of Ena wearing as a joke a black feathered hat and billowing cloak, painted essentially in black and white. It is similar to Lambert’s painting in its sense of extravagant posture and light-heartedness. If nothing else, both paintings are a reflection of the spirit of the times.

 

In this portrait Lambert used a limited range of colours to great effect: a dark Manet black and a Gainsborough blue, with the addition of purple in the jewel on a chain around her neck. Lambert paid close attention to the clothing, capturing an array of textures – the lustrous steel-blue silk of her stole, the fluffy white fur collar, the white leather gloves, the transparent black lace sleeve and the black velvet of the hat wreathed with white ostrich plumes.

 

Lambert painted the portrait with broad brushstrokes, and spontaneously, as a kind of ‘performance in paint’. When exhibited, it stood out from the prevalent brown tonalist portraiture painted at this time by other Australian artists, such as John Longstaff and W.B. McInnes. (W.B. McInnes’s much more restrained Portrait of Miss Collins was awarded the Archibald Prize for 1924 at the Art Gallery of New South Wales).

 

Lambert’s tour de force was purchased for 600 guineas by the Art Gallery of New South Wales when it was shown at the New South Wales Society of Artists exhibition in 1922; at that time the highest price paid by a public gallery for a portrait by an Australian artist.

Arrays and cages of the Duga-3 radar sit high above the ground in the Zone of Alienation....a monument to the folly of man.

I had seen this from the 110 freeway but never knew who put these panels up.

Broadview Christian Science nursing ministry has an array of 1,441 solar panels, installed in 2013. You can see the panels usefulness here goo.gl/Qb1QLU

They welcome school groups, other non-profits, and those interested in learning more about the solar array to arrange an on-site visit.

www.flaneurphoto.com

Dorsal view of the main crew living area (windows removed for clarity.) Fore to aft: swimming pool, comms array, sports stadium, greenhouse, medium drone docking.

 

Name: S.S. Bessemer

 

Registration Number: KCC-1894 (Kolter Construction Contract Number 1,894)

  

Affiliation: Kolter Mining, Refining, and Fuel.

 

Class Name: Bessemer class

  

Type: Deep Space Mining Operations Flagship

 

Commissioned: Circa late 2500’s, post recent major conflict

 

Specifications:

  

Length: 1,844 meters (184.4 studs, 58.1 inches, 4.83 feet, 147.5 cm model)

  

Width: 503 meters (50.3 studs, 15.8 inches, 40.2 cm model)

  

Height: 484 meters, 398 meters without dorsal comms array, (48.4 studs, 15.2 inches, 38.7 cm model)

  

Crew: 2,950 standard complement + capacity for crew families, as well as smaller guest quarters for up to 2,000 additional personnel to be moved to/from mining operations.

 

Armament: 1 super-heavy coaxial particle beam cannon, (primarily for asteroid mining, but also more than capable of defensive action,) 4 dual-mounted heavy particle cannon turrets, 8 dual-mounted medium particle cannon turrets, 2 coaxial fore medium particle cannons, 80 quad-mounted 80mm anti-fighter flak railgun turrets.

 

Defensive systems:

Hull: Super-heavy steel alloy hull with carbon nanotube/buckypaper composite layers as spall lining.

Armor plating: steel, titanium alloy, tungsten, ceramic, and carbon nanotube composite armor layers against asteroids/other space debris, kinetic weapons, kinetic spalling, particle, laser, and plasma fire. Thick composite armor provides excellent survivability, but with very high mass. Some battleships are less armored than this ship.

Bulkheads: Extensive titanium bulkhead support network.

Structural integrity field: High power system designed for significant cargo mass placing stress on the frame, or to withstand asteroid impacts to the hull.

Shielding: Internally housed high power adaptive particle field repulsing shielding system capable of surviving significant punishment. Some older battleships have less robust shielding.

 

Powerplant: 1 primary matter-antimatter reactor with extensive fuel reserves, 2 secondary fusion reactors with extensive fuel reserves. Multiple massive power capacitors. Extensive heatinks.

 

Propulsion: 1 massive primary fusion engine for sub-lightspeed travel, 1 internal FTL core capable of moderate FTL speed, long range travel, and 32 large reaction control thrusters for slow but dependable below light speed maneuvering.

 

Computer systems: Single supercomputer core with onboard Virtual Intelligence system.

  

Comms and Sensors: Local and FTL comms arrays. Radar, LIDAR, infrared, multi-spectral, and additional other local area sensors systems, along with extensive FTL sensors.

 

Additional Systems: High power artificial singularity for both artificial gravity generation and inertial dampening, allowing for 1G gravity even when hauling an entire cargo hold full of heavy-metal. 6 massive blast furnaces for refining metal ore, an enormous central cargo hold system, 4 fuel refining tanks, 4 massive fuel storage tanks, and an internal rail system for moving ore and personnel.

 

Embarked Craft: 2 Thunderbird class super-heavy cargo/personnel shuttles, 2 Hurricane class heavy cargo/personnel shuttles, 20 heavy mining drones, 24 medium mining drones, 2 gunships of variable class, 2 heavy fighter/bombers of variable class, potential for multiple additional light shuttles and fighters.

 

Background: After seeing both the devastation to outlying areas of space caused by the recent Great War, and the corruption within the Federal Defense Navy (working title) Admiralty, Captain David Courtland retired honorably from military service and went to helm his family’s generations old mining company, Kolter Mining, Refining, and Fuel; one of the largest mining companies in United Earth Federation space. (Working title.)

 

He wanted to take the company, already a reputable and successful business, in a new direction. That direction was the disputed, war-torn, no-man’s-waste-land of space known as The Divide, (working title) situated between the major powers of the galaxy. Life in The Divide was desperate, with little hope for the many people stranded in the ruins, poverty, and crime infested land. None of the major powers could intervene without starting another territorial war, and as such, pirates, gangs, and unscrupulous mega-corporations ruled supreme.

 

Courtland wanted to make a difference to this sorrowful place, and with trillions of credits and a Fortunes 1,000 company at his control, he had the means to at least begin; although even he lacked the ability to single-handedly remedy the myriad of woes The Divide faced.

 

David’s plan was simple, to move significant mining operations to The Divide, thus:

1: Creating new, safe, well-paying, good jobs for both an area and an industry that seldom offered such things.

2: Allowing for the placement of company security forces to deter pirate activity around major settlements.

3: Providing tax-free revenue to fund new schools, hospitals, food, water, shetler, and other charitable activities in The Divide.

  

But to do it, he required a new kind of mining vessel, as well as additional security forces. Thus he contacted Nelson Heavy Industries, who in turn partnered with AxonTech Interstellar Systems for some components, to place an order for a line of custom massive deep space mining operation flagships with enhanced combat capabilities and capable of operating in the remotest reaches of space for months or even years at a time. And so the Bessemer class was born.

 

The Bessemer class is unlike any mining vessel ever produced before it. Certainly significantly larger mining ships existed, but these were typically little more than unarmed, slow moving things with small engines; closer to a semi-mobile starbase than a combination frontier battleship/mining vessel. But Courtland required something unique. Something that could move faster, survive more punishment, and something that had teeth; not a fragile, barely moving thing that would only sit in safe areas of space. Courtland needed a mighty sheepdog in a world of sheep and wolves.

 

Bessemer class vessels are 1,844 meters long, and possess more armor, firepower, and shielding than many pre Great War battleship designs. Almost any pirate or local gang would be terrified of the sight of over a mile of steel and particle cannons; clad in Kolter white, green, and yellow.

 

But the Bessemer, and others of her class, are not merely warships masquerading as civilian craft. They are heavy mining machines that live up to their name; a steel producing process that revolutionized the industry of Earth some seven hundred years earlier. The Bessemer and her sister ships are capable of blasting metal-rich asteroids to bits with their coaxial mining particle beam cannon, and then having swarms of automated mining drones devour any valuable deposits within before unloading the materials into the Bessemer’s ore hold for the internal rail system to run any raw ore through her six corvette sized forges, and then having the refined metal shunted to her cavernous lower hold, while any waste material from the refining process is vented directly into space.

 

Ships of this class are outfitted with a sizable hangar, advanced sensor suite, extensive internal cargo bays, and large cargo pod clamps that allow it to act in the capacity of miner, defensive ship, operations command center, and even freighter and personnel carrier should usual shipping to outlying mining sites be disrupted.

 

But capable as they are, these are not the spartan mining vessels with unlivable working conditions that some shady companies have been known to operate. These space-faring cities of steel feature robust safety systems, spacious and comfortable crew quarters, multiple restaurants, multiple mess-halls, multiple shops for clothing, food, electronics, and other items, an arcade, multiple gyms with weights, various weight and cardio machines, martial arts areas, gymnastics equipment, along with a walking track, a small bowling alley, an olympic sized swimming pool, a multi-sport stadium, a greenhouse, hydroponics bays, a small stage/concert area, several computer labs, a library, a small movie theater, crew lounges and break areas, a salon/spa, a bar/club, chapels, classroom/daycare areas, office areas, as well as repair stations, enough dry and frozen storage to keep everyone fed for extended missions, advanced workshops, astrotography, laboratories, guest bunk-rooms, and a starbase grade medical center.

 

Not everyone is happy about Kolter Mining’s efforts, however. While Courtland founded the Kolter Foundation to aid those in need, he also lobbied for what came to be known as the Kolter Bill to be passed. Mining employees out in the colonies loved the added protections this afforded them. But the executives of Kolter’s rival mining companies operating out of Earth’s colony worlds quickly found themselves facing laws that favored the profits of Kolter and their already developed safety systems and excellent treatment of employees. What’s more, the Federal Defense Navy Admiralty have been continually frustrated that rather than helping to line their pockets as part of the military industrial complex, Courtland has been working tirelessly to reveal their corruption and hidden support of crime in outlying areas of space.

 

What’s more, there are even rumors that Courtland is now working with, and possibly even helping to fund, a mercenary vigilante unit out in The Divide known as the Phoenix Command Group, founded by Jonathan Scarlett, another former Federal Defense Navy Captain who ran afoul of the Admiralty.

 

The wealthy and corrupt among the Admiralty, military industrial complex, crime syndicates, and corrupt businesses running shady operations out in The Divide are deeply troubled by these rumors. But those who are now citizens of no nation, and who have known nothing but hopelessness and need for years, have a slight spark of hope rising like a Phoenix.

   

IRL info: This digital SHIP was made in Bricklink’s Studio software from September 11th to September 30th, 2021. I did not originally plan to participate in SHIPtember, but I couldn’t resist. It is 184 studs (58.1 inches) long, 50 studs wide, and 48 studs high. It is comprised of 23,470 pieces, which I believe makes it my highest piece-count SHIP to date, and means that the model itself has a mass of 973.502 ounces, or 60.843 pounds, or 27.597 kilograms, which most likely makes it my heaviest SHIP as well as my most piece intensive. (I really need to learn to build a little more hollow.) Note that it uses all real pieces/colors that are available for sale on Bricklink. (Albeit at a price that makes attempting to build it in physical bricks highly impractical.) It is 100% connected, and should be at least somewhat stable in real life. I would want to reinforce the fore-end with more Technic, and switch out the longest Lego Technic axle holding the engine for an aftermarket stainless steel version. I cannot guarantee that various sections built out from the main SNOT and Technic frame would be totally stable without slight redesign of a few bits. It would also require a hefty display stand of some kind.

 

The current pictures are WIP to show the completed status of the build itself. Better renders done by importing the Studio build into Mecabricks, replacing any pieces that fail to load or change position, and then exporting to Blender for higher quality rendering, and finally hopefully doing some cool backgrounds with GIMP, will hopefully follow before whatever October picture deadline is decided on. Please do not use these early pictures in the poster if time remains, as I hope to provide better ones. Thank you for reading this lengthy description. Have a cookie.

 

If this ship had a theme song, this magnificent piece by Clamavi De Profundis would be it: youtu.be/Xm96Cqu4Ils

Turn of a Friendly Card

************************************************************

Based on a true adventures of a rogue active in the waning years of the 1930’s as discovered in the criminal archives of Chatwick University.

 

Act 1

I begin my tale in the present…

 

That afternoon a soiree was given as part of the purchase price of the tickets for the annual Autumn Charity Ball to be presented later that evening at the manor’s great house. Since I was alone, I just went mainly for the free food and to rub my elbows with the wealthy guests who would be in happy attendance there, and at the Ball. I was alone, but certainly not bored. There was a game I enjoyed playing to pass the time at these affairs that entailed scoping out by their dress and day jewels worn, those ladies whom would be most likely to be wearing the better costumes and sparklers that evening. It often proved to be a most beneficial insight into the actions and mannerisms of the very rich. I walked amongst the cheerful guests, eying one here ( a lady in satin and pearls) and another there( a high spirited girl with a diamond pin at the throat of her frilly silken blouse). It was as I was passing the latter that the friend she had been talking too (dressed like a vamp), bumped up against me. I caught her, steadying her as they both giggled. I didn’t mind, for the lassie’s too tight satin sheath tea dress had been an enticement to hold, and the gold bracelet that had been dangling from her gloved wrist had been a pleasure to observe. I kissed her gloved hand, rings glittering, as I apologized gallantly for my clumsiness. Her eyes were bright, almost as bright as the twin necklaces of gold that hung swaying down pleasantly from between her ample bosom. I left them, moving on to greener pastures, and it was very green, all of it….

 

It was then that I detected another pretty lassie. It was her long fiery red hair with falling wispy curls that first captured my attention. She was wearing a fetchingly smart white chiffon party dress that commanded me to acquire a closer examination. She appeared to be a blithe spirit, seemingly content with just being by herself and roaming about with casual elegance, the extensive grounds of the manor proper. I began to discreetly follow her at a distance. Although she did not wear any jewelry, her manner and the eloquent way she moved is what attracted me the most. It would be very interesting to seek her out later that evening and she what she would have chosen to decorate herself with. I followed her as she sojourned into the depths of a traditional English garden with a maze of lushly green trimmed 8 foot high hedges

 

As I strolled through the hedgerows in her wake I allowed my mind to wander its own course. Suddenly I straightened up, my reverie broken by an epiphany of sorts. I allowed myself to grin and the lady whose enchantment I was swollen up in, at that moment turned, and seeing my beaming smile assumed it was for her and gave me a rather cute nod of her head. I answered in same, as I headed en route to a nearby stone garden bench to allow my thoughts to think through themselves.

 

But before I go on, allow me the pleasure to sojourn and reminisce about an incident that occurred several years prior:

*******************

I was still working unaided in those days, travelling on to a new next quest that would take me just outside of Surrey.

I had just purchased my train ticket and had seen my luggage safe on board when I decided to rest in the lounge, it being some 45 minutes before allowed to enter personally aboard. Being so early the lounge was almost deserted, only one other occupant. I assumed she was waiting for someone on an incoming train due to the fact she carried no luggage. She was obviously well off, well dressed in satins and lace, and her jewels shone magnificently in the dim lights. Especially one of her rings, noticeably lying loosely around a finger, it sparkled with an expensive brilliance. I had seen one like it in a tiffanies store, worth almost 250 pounds. But she did not appreciate the show her jewelry was putting on under the lounge lights, for she was fast asleep.

 

I circled around her, aiming for a seat next to her, eyeing her and her possessions carefully. I noticed her purse had fallen off her lap and lay on the floor. An idea popped into my head, and I picked the purse up, and looked around carefully, before placing my plan into action. But I was thwarted as an older, matronly lady was spotted heading our way. I slipped the purse into my jacket and moved off before I was noticed. Of course she came in and took the empty seat across form the sleeping princess, and soon busied herself with knitting. As the older lady had sat down, not quietly, the wealthy lady stirred waking up at the noise. I went into a corner and sat, waiting. The two ladies soon fell into conversation; the minute’s ticked by excruciatingly slow. Soon I noticed we even had more company.

He was a lad of only fourteen, but with a devilish look about him that marked him a kindred spirit to meself, and his quick eyes were darting about taking it all in as he stood outside the paned glass window.

 

It was as the first announcement of boarding the train that I saw a chance for opportunity to strike.

The older lady folded up her knitting and clinching her bag, bid adieu to her new friend,( befuddled a little by the old ladies constant stream of gossip), and headed to the train. I was twenty steps ahead of her and was standing behind the youth as she left the lounge. I tapped him on the shoulder; he looked around at me suspiciously, and then caught sight of the shilling I was holding in front of his nose. I quickly whispered a few words into his ear on how he could earn it, and his grin spread as he bought into my story. I still held onto the shilling as he darted around and inside the lounge. I watched as he ran up behind the lady, circling her, then running in front of her he tripped over her leg, as she helped him up, her hand with the ring reaching down, he turned and spat onto the wrist and sleeve of that hand, than standing he ran away. Running alongside me, I handed him the shilling in passing as he ran off, disappearing in to the street.

 

I went inside and approached the astonished lady, as she was looking for her purse to get a handkerchief, confused as to its absence, while she held up her soiled hand( ring glittering furiously) in utter disbelief. I approached, catching her attention by the soothing words I uttered to her. I took her hand, unbelieving with her at just had happened, and I as I apologized for the youth of today I produced my own silk handkerchief and starting with her silky sleeve, began to wipe it off, continuing my tirade of displeasure and contempt at what had just occurred to the dear lady as I did so. As I finishing wiping her down, ending with her warm slender fingers, I kissed them, just as the last boarding announcement came over (perfect timing!) I let her go, explaining that I must catch my train. I turned and without looking back made the train just as it was letting off steam before chugging off.

 

I gained my private carriage just as the train began to lurch away. It wasn’t until after the train began its journey that I casually removed my silk handkerchief from my pocket and unwrapped it carefully, admiring up close the shimmering, valuable tiffany ring that was lying inside. I pocketed it, and then remembered the purse. I took it out and examined its contents: coin and notes equaling a handsome amount, a gold (gilded) case, embroidered lacy handkerchief, small silver flask of perfume, and ( of all things)a large shimmering prism , like one that would have dangled from a fancy crystal chandelier. A prism?, I questioned with interest as I examined it. It was pretty thing, about the circumference of a cricket ball, but shaped like a pendulum, it shimmered and glittered like the most precious of jewels. Why she had it in her purse? I couldn’t guess, and I saw no value in it, so I pocketed it and allowed it to leave my mind.

 

As I settled into my seat I began to think of the lad I had just met, I had been right on the money as far as his eagerness for mischief. Actually he reminded me of myself at that age, and I wondered if that lad with the shifty eyes would also turn out to follow the same course I had explored.

 

Which Begs the question, what had I turned out to become. And since I’m still reminiscing

I’ll give little background material about me, hopefully I don’t come across as being too conceited about my self-taught skills..

 

I had never been one to take the hard road, and even at a young age I was always looking for angles, or short cuts to make some money.

Once, while watching for some time a street magician and his acts. I observed a pick pocket working the crowd. He approached a pair of well-dressed ladies in shiny clothes, and standing behind them bided his time and then lifted a small pouch from one velvet purse, and a fat wallet from a silken one, then he moved on. Now both ladies were wearing shiny bracelets, one with jewels. I thought that he could have realized a greater profit if he had nicked one or both of the bracelets first, than try for the contents of their purses. The bracelets’ alone would have realized a far greater profit than what he lifted from their purses. It further occurred to me that by mimicking some of the sleight of hand tricks and misdirection that the magician was using on his audience, it could be accomplished. A hand placed on the right shoulder and as the lady turned right, whisk off the bracelet from her left wrist, and excuse oneself, that sort of thing.

 

So, I practiced (on my sisters, who proved to be willing accomplices to “my game”) and learned to pick their purses and pockets. I than moved onto their jewelry, starting by lifting bracelets and slipping away rings, before advancing to the brooches, necklaces and earrings they were wearing. After I was satisfied at my skill level, I went out and worked the streets. Sometimes using my one sister who was also hooked on what I was doing as a willing partner.

But I found myself still not being satisfied, in the back of my mind I thought there had to be a more lucrative way to turn a profit.

 

I’d found my answer when an attractive lady in a rustling satin gown zeroed in on me while I was “visiting” a ballroom. She was jeweled like a princess right up to the diamond band she wore holding up her piles of soft locks like a glimmering crown. The more she drank, the closer she got and I decided that her necklace would definitely help pay my expenses more than the contents of her purse (although I had already lifted the fat wallet from her small purse), and I did have very expensive tastes to pay for. So I took her onto the dance floor.

 

I was amazed at how easily I had been able to open the necklace’s clasp , slipping it over her satiny shoulder, lifting it off and placing it safely in my pocket with almost no effort. Then she decided to be playful once the song ended and brushed up against me. She felt the necklace in my pocket and before I could act she had her hand in and pulled it out.

 

The silly naive twit thought I was teasing her and told me that for my penance I had to go up to her suite in order to put it back on for her. I kept up the charade as best as I could.

 

And that’s where we ended up. A little bit of light fondling began as I placed the necklace back around her throat. I began to tease her, plied her with more and more alcohol as I tried to keep my distance, and virginity. Finally she passed out in a drunken stupor, but not before I had learned where she hid her valuables by suggesting she should lock her jewels up for the night..

 

With her safely unconscious, I began to strip her clean off all her jewels, reclaiming the necklace first. Then I visited all her jewelry casket and began looting it. I even took her small rhinestone clutch with the diamond clasp; of course I already had liberated its small wallet.

 

When I’d left her lying happily asleep in bed, still in her satin gown( the only item left to her that shined), I knew I had found a much more profitable line of “work”

 

So I began making circuits around to the haunts of the very rich, I still kept may hand in pickpocketing, so to speak, but centered only on those “pockets” containing mainly jewelry. I also began to carefully explore new ways of acquiring jewels” in masse”, so to speak.

 

Soon I had accumulated many tricks and tools, having them at my disposal to put into action once required, and for the remaining years up till the present had managed to live quite comfortably off of the ill-gotten gains using them allowed me to acquire.

 

Which brings me back to the train ride, my prism, and the rest of my background story before I retun to the present tale. Please be patient.

*****

So, anyway, I reached Surry without any further incident and disembarking, made my way out to the large country house where I would be staying to take a short rest, vacation if you will. But, pardon the play on words, for there is never any rest for the wicked, is there?

 

I had become acquainted with a servant of the old mansion ( almost a small castle, really) , that was about a mile off. I managed to learn a great deal, and soon found myself, on the pretense of visiting her, exploring the grounds. There was to be a grand ball taking place a couple of weekends away , and the maid had filled my ears with the riches that would be displayed by the multitude of regal ladies making an appearance. I began to think about trying to make a little bit of profit from my vacation. I am not sure how the idea developed, but the prism that I still had in my possession, came up centrally into my plans.

 

Late on the evening of the regal affair, I snuck over, covered head to toe in black, with my small satchel off tools by my side. I set up a candle behind an old stone ivy covered wall in a far corner of the rather large and intricate English garden that surrounded the inner circle around the mansion. I than strung the jewel-like prism in front of it. Standing behind the wall, I would strike the prism with a long stick I was holding whenever I observed sparkles emanating from silkily gowned ladies walking in the distance, solitary or in pairs. The prism would flash fire, sort of like a showy lure being used when fishing in a crooked trout stream. Only I was fishing for far sweeter game than trout. My objective was to trick certain types of jeweled ladies (scatterbrains some may call them) by luring them down onto the path beyond the wall, using their natural curiosity to my advantage.

 

I had at least two strikes rise up to my lure in the second hour.

On was a pretty lady in flowing green satin number, decorated with plenty of emeralds, which, hidden in the shadows, I observed were probably paste. I let her wonder about; as she looked and played with the shiny toy, remaining hidden until she grew bored and wandered off.

The second was a slender maiden wearing a long sleek black gown with long ivory silk gloves. I had never before seen a lady so decked out in jewels, literally head to toe. With the exception of the rhinestones adorning her heels, the rest of the lot was real, so valuably real that I could feel my mouth salivating at the thoughts of acquiring her riches. Now in Edwardian times only older, married ladies would be allowed the privilege of wearing a diamond Tiara. But in these modern times, it had become culturally acceptable for any well-to do lady, single or otherwise, to wear one out in society. Even so, they were still rarely worn, and seldom seen outside the safety of large gatherings. But there it was, a small, delicately slender piece of intricate art that glistened from the top of her head like some elegant beacon. That piece alone was probably worth more than I had made all the last four months combined!

I began to skirt around in the shadows, placing myself in position to cut off her retreat. Her diamonds blazed as she approached, eyeing the swinging prism with total concentration. Which was unfortunate, because as I was about to leave the shadows, she walked into the thorns of a rose bush, screeching out, and attracting the notice of a pair of gentlemen who had just crossed the path quite a ways off, called out when they heard the commotion. She started to become chatty with them, obviously coming on to her rescuers, my prism all but forgotten. Than before I knew it, in a swishing of her long gown, she was gone, “swimming” off before I was able to set me ”hook”.

 

Which I was able to do on the third strike, almost an hour later, just as I was beginning to ponder wither I should call it off and head back home..

 

They were a pair of young damsels in their young twenties. They may have been sisters, or cousins at the least. I still remember how my heart leapt into my throat as they observed my colourful prism and turned down the old flagstone path. I had not seen anyone out and about for some time, so I knew they would be no would be rescuers around to come to their aid

And, best of all, they were both dressed for the kill!

One, the blonde, was clad in a black velvet number that one could cannily describe as quite form fitting. As were the small ropes of pearls that hung from all points of interest, pretty with a matching pricelessness.

But her cousin, as I will refer to her, out shone black velvet quite literally.

This one, a stunning raven haired beauty, wore a long streaming gown of liquid ivory satin. A diamond brooch sparkled as it held up a fold of the gown to her waist. The fold allowed her to show a rather daring amount of a slender bare calf. The brooch was not paste, but a real jewel that had been added for the nights festivities ( To be successful, one learns to read these signs accurately) Her ears and neckline were home to a matching set of pure white diamonds. A wide diamond bracelet graced a bare right wrist ,so she must be left handed I instinctively thought, an observation that would have aided me if I were planning on having a go for slipping the bracelet from her wrist, but tonight I was planning a much more daring attempt to empty the entire jewel casket, so to speak.

 

They went to the prism, playing with it a bit, I had begun to circle around, when I noticed black velvet pointing out with multiple ringed fingers, to something further down the path past the wall.

 

With a clicking of heels I let the pair pass, they apparently wanted to see what was on the other side of the wall. I followed; it was not hard, because the necklace the raven haired one wore, diamonds fully encircling her throat, rippled and sparkled from their perch, caught in the full harvest moon’s cast, giving me more than enough light to shadow them quietly .

 

After a while they caught on that something/someone was following them, but as they turned they could see nothing. I was in black, and hooded, invisible to them in the shadows of the trees. They whispered amongst themselves, now worried, realizing that there were dangers lurking beyond the pale, in their case, the safety of the gardens , especially for ones decked out as they were. They then turned and headed right back from where they had come, right into my waiting arms.

 

It is interesting what good breeding does for young, poised ladies. For, as I stepped out of the shadows, a finger of my right hand to my lips, my Fairborn in my left hand, its black blade glinting wickedly in the moonlight , they did not scream out or shout for help. Instead the pair merely let out small gasps, and then they both, in a quite charming synchronized display of disbelief, place each one hand over their open mouths, and the other upon their perspective necklaces.

 

And as I flourished my wicked looking Fairbairn–Sykes blade in their direction, they unquestioningly reached around and undid those pretty necklaces, tremblingly handing them out to me, like actresses following a well-read script. I took the little pretties and after stuffing them into my satchel, held out again my free hand, my fingers beckoning. Not a word was spoken between us, as the frightened pair of young ladies began removing their shimmering jewels and added them in a neat little growing pile along my open palm. The raven haired girl even undid her brooch without me having to command her to do so. Once I had stashed it all away, I motioned for them to turn back around, than with a little helpful prodding on my part, they began moving forward back down the hill, away from the garden. The one in white hobbling a little now as she kept tripping over the hem of her dress, now no longer held up by the stolen brooch.

 

After we had traveled about 200 meters I had them stop, and take off their high heels. Then picking the pretty things up, I motioned them to turn back around and made them walk back the way we had come in their bare feet, watching the pair awkwardly hobble barefooted down the wooded path. They would be quite a while on their journey back, allowing me more than ample time to make me escape. I threw their shoes off to the side and went briskly the other way, reaching the place was staying at , gaining my room without notice. But not before I had hidden the jewels inside an old stump to retrieve them at a later date. I never really heard so much as a whisper of the incident, other than from the pretty lips of my friendly maiden. The wee hours of the morning before my early departure for the train station found me revisiting the stump and retrieving my satchel and its precious cargo. After hiding it all in a false bottom of my case I laid my head on the pillow and drifted off to sleep as I wondered what had happened to the little prism, marveling at how useful it had ended up proving to be.

 

So, how does this story (journey rather) relate to the one I had already started? Please read on, and enrich your curiosity… my dear readers.

****************************************************************************

Act 2

 

So, with apologies for my lengthy elucidation, but I now return you back to the garden party I was now attending on that warm fall day. But, as you will see, my prism story needed to be told in order to add a bit of flavor to what was about to unfold.

 

As I sat on the garden bench I formulated my plans. I should be able to acquire the main piece tonight at the Ball, I would have time this afternoon to retrieve my ever handy satchel and its array of tools and have it hidden at the spot I had already selected. It was perfect, located at the end of the path I had found, or rather the charming lady in the smart chiffon dress had found for me. A gas lamp would provide adequate light for my “lure”, and it led to a back wood where I could lead any victims away and liberate them of their valuables before making my escape. I rose, just enough time to walk my escape route, before setting up and then be dressed for the evening’s festivities. I looked around, I was alone now, my lady in white had disappeared, following her own course, whatever it may have been.

 

The Autumn Ball that evening was in full swing by the time I arrived. Being a cool fall day, most of the women were wearing long gowns and dresses, and that, for whatever the reason, usually meant they were decked out with more layers of jewelry than say , if it had been the middle of summer. In order to put my plan in action I need and intrinsic piece of the trap, a prism. The one I had once had was long ago lost, a minor pawn in a game to take a pair of princesses.

 

I knew exactly the type of prism required for my plan, and so began mingling amongst the guests with that in mind.

 

I started out by walking through to the chamber like ballroom where a full orchestra was starting to play. The first person I saw from the garden party was the little tramp who had been wearing the too tight satin tea dress. That dress had been replaced with a long silky gown, her gold jewelry replaced with emeralds; including a thin bracelet that had taken the place of the gold one that she had so obligingly dangled in my larcenous path. I decided to avoid her In principle, and in doing so spied someone quite interesting.

 

That someone was a pretty lady in a long velvet gown standing off to one side, idly watching the many dancers out on the floor. The dancing couples were forming an imagery of a rainbow coloured sea of slinky swirling gowns and with erupting fireworks of sparkling jewels, ignited by pair of immensely large chandeliers that hung over the dance floor, setting them off. I made my way, skirting the dance floor to reach her, my eyes on her jewels, which were making pretty fireworks of their own. I happened to walk up just as a waiter with a tray of drinks was passing by. Plucking off a drink I offered it to the lady with one hand, my other hand placed on her back as If to steady myself. She laughed prettily, and taking the drink I met her eyes, as she was focused on reaching and holding the glass in her slippery gloved hand, mine was on the ruby and diamond necklace. My hand behind her had flicked open the simple hook and eye clasp of the antique piece and was in the process of lifting it up and whisking it away from her throat. As I said a few words to her, I pocketed it, while also taking in the rest of her lovely figure and its shiny decorations, before biding adieu. She smiled, her pale bare neckline now quite glaringly extinguished of its fire.

 

It was about an hour later, after spotting, but unable to make inroads with several likely candidates, that I finally struck gold (figuratively). It came in the form of a young couple arguing between themselves in a far corner of the chamber. She was lecturing a rather handsome man in a tux, her jeweled fingers flying in his face. If she hadn’t been moving about in such an animated fashion as she lectured, I may not have even noticed her. But as it happened I did, especially noticeable was the sanctimonious lady’s wide jeweled bracelet that was bursting out in a rainbow of colorful flickers as her hand was emphatically waving, as her long gown of silk swished around with every movement she made. Perfect. I watched for a bit, and sure enough they moved off, the man heading for the patio leading outside, the wealthy girl following him, still giving him lashes with her tongue. I moved and managed to have her bump into me simply by stepping on the hemline of her long gown. For a few seconds I was the one on the receiving end of her wrath, but I took it like a man, I could see in the eyes of her tongue lashed husband, that he was grateful for the respite. I was also grateful; grateful for the quite wide, very shimmering, bracelet that I had removed from her wrist and now was residing in my pocket.

 

I began to leave the patio, but was stopped by a matronly lady in ruffles, laces and pearls, her breath heavy with alcohol. She started to question me on what the couple had been on about. Then without waiting for an answer she launched herself into a tirade of her own, her gem encrusted, silken gloved fingers, waving in my face for emphasis. It was almost ten minutes before I was able to make my escape. Which I did, but not before slipping off one of the lecturing ladies vulgarly large cocktail rings.

 

I headed onto the patio; the time was getting ripe for my plan, which I was now ready to put into motion, now having acquired its most essential piece. I went to the end of the large patio, weaving in and out of the by now well liquored guests whom had assembled there. Across the way I saw a lady tripping over her own gown. By the time I reached her she had fallen down, giggling merrily. Two of us rushed to her aid, she was busy gushed her thanks to the rescuer she knew, while ignoring the one she didn’t! Which was unfortunate on her part, for by ignoring me, she also was ignorant of the fact that I was busy lifting the small stands of black pearls from her wrist. I left unnoticed, much like a shadow fading out of the light, or at least that’s how it seemed. Finally I reached the patios outer edge without further incident, or gain. I went on the grass and turned a corner with the intention of going, post haste around the house to reach the gardens by the long way, hoping not to be seen by anyone. But I no sooner turned the corner, when I realized that it was not to be the case.

 

It was my blithe spirit in white chiffon from the garden party, pardon me, soiree. She was unescorted, looking up at the moon above a stone turret with one lit window, so intently that my presence had not been noticed. I had been absolutely correct in my observation of her as far as what she would be wearing for the evening. For what she had lacked in ornaments at the soiree, she had more than made up for in the evening festivities. She was absolutely gorgeous, resplendent in as beautiful a silvery satin gown that I had ever witness. It was just pouring down, shimmering along her delightful figure. Her long blazing red hair was still curling down and free, but now a pair of long chandelier earrings cascading down from her earlobes, were peeking out every now and then as they swayed with her every movement. Her blazingly rippling necklace was all diamonds, dripping down the front of her tightly satin covered bosom, twinkling iridescently like an intensively glimmering waterfall. Her slender gloved wrists were home to a pair of dangling diamond bracelets that were almost outshone by her many glistening rings. All in all she was quite a lure all too herself

 

I came up to her, starling her from her reverie. Taking up her hand, I looked into her startled, suddenly blushing face. I complimented her on the fine gown she wore. She thanked me, and I could see I that she suddenly remembered she me as the chap who she thought smiled to her in the garden. She seemed to accept my compliment quite readily. I chanced it( although Lord knows I was short on time) and asked her to a dance. I did not think she would agree, so it was with a little bit of surprise, hoping she would politely decline and walk off, leaving me free to go about my business unobserved. But she accepted, and I will admit that my heart leapt as she agreed (although in the back of my mind I knew I should be off if my plan was to work). The music had stopped so we made small talk as we slowly walked back to the ballroom. Her name was Katrina. It seems she was waiting for someone, which suited my plans, but he was late and so she had time. Which may have sounded dismissive, but from the apologetic way she said it, it was anything but the sort.

 

The orchestra started to tune back up as we entered, and taking her offered hand up, was soon lost in the elegance of my appealing partner. It was a long dance, and a formal one, but I could tell she was subtly anxious to be off on her meeting, as I was to be off to my own adventure. But Katrina did not really allow it to show, which was very uncharacteristic of her someone with her obvious breeding. So I was ready when the by the end of the music she begged her condolences and took flight. I watched her as she fluidly moved away, her jewels sparkling, all of them. On her mission to meet Mr. X I thought, for whom I was already harboring a quite jealous dislike. I should be off I thought to meself.

 

But I stood, still as stone; totally mesmerized by the way Katrina’s swirling silvery satin gown was playing out along her petite, jewel sparkling figure. It wasn’t till the last of her gown swished around a corner out of sight that I moved, but not without having to shake my head to clear the thoughts of her out of it. Well old son, focus. For by now the guests were starting to wander a bit afield in the waning hours of the Autumn Ball, and my small window of opportunity was closing fast. If my little plan was going to have any chance of success it would have to be now.

 

I walked out and made my way to one of the outside exist of the garden wall. Reaching into my pocket as I did so, fingering the bracelet, now cold, that had belonged to the quarrelsome lady,and soon would be playing another role, far from one its former mistress would ever have dreamed off. I also felt my new acquisition, still warm from my dance partner’s body. I will admit that I had felt a twinge of regret for taking it from a lady I had found to be most charmingly captivating. But slipping off the diamonds up and away from her throat had been as temptingly easy as it had been automatic. I had advantageously made use of the sleekness of her scintillatingly silky gown, and with the distractions created by the movements of the dance, successfully managed to keep Katrina’s attention safely diverted from the reality of why my fingers were ever so gently, caressingly sliding along her slippery gowns neckline. The truth was I had originally placed my hand there because it had felt so right, and I was a little startled when my fingers had subconsciously started playing with her necklaces clasp. Before I knew it, they had flicked open the gemstone clasp of her obviously expensive diamond necklace, and had lifted up. As I watched out of the corner of my eye, almost like I was a spectator, as opposed to being the perpetrator, I saw the chain move up and over her shoulder; its diamonds sparkling with is as the necklace disappeared from view behind her back.

It was a favored technique that I had perfected to the point that by this stage of my career I nearly always acquired my objective. But, as odd as it sounds, I was not happy with myself on this occasion.

 

But I did not long dwell on my mixed feelings on taking the charming lass’s diamonds, for by now I had reached my place of ambush. It was in one of the farthest reaches of the garden, at a bend on the end of a long path that, with a gas lamp at its beginning just off the patio, would allow me to see from some distance off. Behind me was a break in the hedge wide enough for a person to walk through comfortably. It was here, off a tree limb, underneath a second ornate cast iron gas lamp, which was now lit, that I hung the shimmering bracelet that I had sought out and acquired for just that reason

 

I walked around and saw that it could be seen flickered off in the distance from the woods, Perfect! Earlier I had hidden my satchel with a hood and knife and bit of rope in the hollow of an old tree. I now retrieved them, and after getting ready, found my position and waited. At 10 minutes past the first hour of my wait, with nary a single glimpse of anyone, I started to fidget. My corner may be just a bit too desolated I was beginning to admit to myself. It seemed that most of the guests were staying by the patio. I was starting to think that I should pack it in, possibly rejoining the guests for one last parting( of someone from her Jewelry). I was just reaching down to pick up my satchel when I suddenly saw something flash under the gas lamp at the beginning of the path, and my senses immediately perked up. I watched as the wisps of rich shimmery satin moved closer, I stiffened, drooling with anticipation, the game was afoot.

  

I could see clearly the flickering jewels she wore, and by their blazing sparkles of rippling fire, I knew that my long vigil would not have been in vain. As the lady drew I recognized her gown of silvery satin! I knew who was making those tantalizing flashes of appealing treasures. Katrina!

 

I watched as she approached, in all her glittering elegance. My heart and conscious was in turmoil, but I knew I probably would not get a second chance. I could not let her get away unscathed. Beside, from the shock of being confronted with a masked scoundrel wielding a wicked blade, she would be in no shape to recognize her assailant. She stopped, apprehensively looking back towards the bright lights of the Manor, Then turning back I saw she had a self-satisfied smile creeping upon her face. She reached up, and undoing her hair, shook it down, curls of softness cascading down, hanging loosely down. It was as she performed this provocative act, that I saw her eyes open wide in curiosity; she had spied my pretty little “prism”. The charming fish was hooked.

 

I waited, watching her approaching ever closer to fate, and from my concealment, I basked in her glow. My heart beating fast, my adrenaline pumping, for the remaining jewels (I thought of her necklace in my custody) that she possessed I already had witnessed were quite valuable. She passed my hiding spot and went to the hanging, shimmering object. As she reached up, looking around, she failed to see me approaching in the shadows. I came up from behind, jabbing a finger in her back as I reached her, I gruffly in no uncertain terms, snarled for her to freeze and make no sound. She stiffened under my touch, but made no move or outcry. I went around; pointing my knife in her direction, looking into her sad doe wide eyes as she realized what was going to happen next. She was trembling; from fear I guessed, and knew I had her right where I wanted. As I made my demands upon her, gimme them jewels sister, she, not surprisingly, was very compliant in giving them up to me. She reached for her necklace last, and looked entirely shocked to find her throat bare, as she searched the neckline of her gown I saw her look into my hand, now dripping with her precious jewelry, almost as if to see if she had not already removed it. She looked apologetically into my eyes, startled; almost pleading that she didn’t know what had happened to it. I just played dump. She than spoke for the first time, sir, may I ask to keep my purse? Her words would have instantly melted even the coldest chunk of ice, I looked down at the little silvery clutch hanging from her arm on its rhinestone chain, I nodded, indicating that she could, and saw relief wash over her face. I told her she now needed to turn around and walk off into the woods ahead of me. She hesitated, and I told her no harm would befall her, I had no intentions along those lines.

 

About 5 meters in I stopped her, and had her remove her shoes, as she bent over to undo the high heels rhinestone clasps I watched her gown tightly outlining her figure. She tripped on the hem of her gown, and as she attempted to keep her balance, accidently let her purse slip off her shoulder. Without thinking I reached down to pick it up for her as she tried reached for it simultaneously

 

The small purse was far heavier than it should have been. Curious I opened it, finding that it contained a rather extensive array of mismatched jewelry, glittering in unbelievably expensive fire . I looked into Katrina’s horror struck eyes dumb founded, as she looked guiltily into mine. The gig was up. The jewels belonged to the lady of the manor, my muse in silver was a thief, a female version of me very self.

 

Aye, what’s this than luv? I questioned her as she looked into my eyes, hers large with a mixture of fright and disbelief. She melted before me, fainting, I caught her in my arms, and it was no ruse. I held her as she came to, holding her warm, silky figure lovingly to mine. I did not know what to think. Nor could I ever explain what possessed me to do what I did next. As she came to, her eyes opened, and I removed my mask, looking back into them deeply.

 

Oh, she gasped, I’m glad it was you, startled that she had said the words out loud. She than started to coyly blushes, quite demurely. Something sparked in me, and unless she was an incredibly good actress, it did also for Katrina. Our eyes both looked into the others, melting away in the lust of the moment. We embraced, deeply, and I held her squirming warm slick figure tight in my enveloping arms. I looked over her shoulder, eyeing the glistening bracelet hanging from its branch. To catch a thief, the thought suddenly opened in my mind, what a great title for a novel I thought to myself, as I buried my nose into Katrina’s luxuriously soft hair.

 

We talked for a bit, walking off into the woods, then she looked into my eyes again, a coy, look that melted me on the spot, and that was the end of it, we embraced again, and wholly gave ourselves to one another. What about your man I asked suddenly remembering, my man she questioned , than oh, you mean the Lord, I was waiting for him to come down from smoking in his tower study, that’s where the lady’s jewels are kept. She broke into an Irish brogue as she said the last bit, and that I guessed was her natural tongue. she laid a hand on the side of my face, thanks for being jealous though, me lad.

I should collect my lure I said, which made her smile; it was such an enticing smile at that. We started to head back and watched as it dangled in front of us flickering. With a far off look in her green eyes, Katrina spoke as if in deep though.

 

The daughter of the house, she has a bracelet on like the one you have dangling, a bracelet of diamonds that I had taken a fancy to, wishing it had been in the safe along with the rest of the ladies of manors jewelry. I knew who she was talking about. The one in green taffeta I asked? Aye lad, that’s the one. Actually her necklace would be just as easy, and worth more I said. Just then her bright green eyes gleamed, Give me about a half an hour, she told me, we will put your little lure to use again. She noticed my hesitation, don’t worry luv she said soothingly placing a gloved hand to my cheek, no longer was it sparkly with its stolen bracelet and rings. I’ll leave my purse with you, can’t very well be carrying it around now can I? I nodded my consent, my mind burning with the thoughts she had alluringly placed there.

  

She turned, and then hesitated; turning back she said I probably should not go back in naked luv. I smiled, reaching in I pulled out her necklace and placed it around her throat. With a little gasp she blurted, so it was you, I was wondering who and when it had happened. It’s not the first time I’ve had me jewels lifted, but it’s a bloody annoyance to have to let them get away with it, crawls under my skin to have pretend not to notice so that I don’t draw any attention to me self before making my move to steal the posh ones jewels.

 

But you, mister, I never felt as much as a prickling. I was ready to assume my pretties had been a victim of a broken clasp this time. I gave a little nod in acceptance. That wasn’t exactly a compliment lad, she said in what I hopped was a subtle jest. Just last summer some clumsy bugger slipped of me earrings, my favorite pearls, as we were danc… she stopped, seeing the guilt in my eyes. Men! As thieves you are all of the same skin she spat out angrily, or attempted to sound angry, for the look in her eyes to me she wasn’t. I best be off, before I change me mind about out little endeavor.

 

With that she swirled around on her heels, and started off, but not before turning and giving me an extremely coy look of interest. As she swirled back around I heard her say loud enough for my ears, I’ll learn me self to be a picker of pockets, see how males like to be taken advantage of in their vulnerabilities! She nodded to herself as she said it. Then suddenly she stopped, than twirled on her heels, her gown swirling enticingly along her figure. Looking me dead in the eye she said, “Vie ne est pas d'attendre que la tempête , mais d'apprendre à danser sous la pluie” !

 

What does that mean? I questioned in a low voice, perplexed.

 

Maybe, Mon Cheri, someday I will tell you… And with that she turned on her heel, her gown once again swirling about, and went, determinedly, swishing her way back up the path. I just watched. I had never heard anyone speak French with an Irish Brogue and I had found it to be rather provocative!

 

I watched as she swished and swayed her way back through the hedge and regained the path leading back to the manor. Her plan was simple; she would lead the daughter of the house to my corner and as she had done, go out with her to look at the swinging charm. I would then make my appearance, rob both ladies of their finery, and telling the daughter to wait until I released her friend, walk off with Katrina as a hostage, and we would both take off and make good our escape. A simple plan, so simple it should actually work.

 

So, there I was. Holding a purse with a small fortune in jewels, my pocket full of more jewels worth an additional pretty farthing, and her charms were wearing off by her leaving. And my thieving nature coming back, reawakened from the spell they had been under!

 

The devil of my conscious crept out on my shoulder, the angel markedly absent from the other.

 

Look mate, she may not be all she seems, and possibly has some other game in mind. Maybe she does have a male confidante helping her out… and was actually on her way to fetch him. He said in my inner ear. And, after all, you took her diamonds twice, didn’t ye now? Do you really think shell forgive you of that me lad?

 

And there is no honor amongst thieves, as the saying goes, he added as a closing argument...

 

I rolled it over in my mind…I could leave, absconding with it all, book a cruise to the states or down under where there lay untried fertile grounds to ply my trade. Not to mention working over my fellow passengers aboard the cruise ship while they attended the fancy affairs that were always going on, or so the brochures always seemed to show……

 

Then In the distance I caught a wisp of Katrina’s long silvery gown. She was coming, and not only with the daughter of the manor, but also with a spare. For I could see a purple coloured gown swishing alongside with the prey in rustling green taffeta.. I watched as all three ladies, resplendent with the rippling fiery gems they all possessed, came up the path, gowns sweeping out , shimmery from the now misty distance.

 

The thought of making my escape with all the loot continued to haunt me, there was still time now to take off without notice, or I could rob all three, and leave with purple silk as my hostage, Katrina would not be able to say anything on chance of giving up her part of the game, or I could just be a good lad and sty with the script that Katrina had written. Take a chance, roll the dice and believe that she was all she had me believing she could ever be.

 

As they came closer I knew my time was running out. The thoughts of just looking out for myself kept coming up playing the devil with my conscience as the precious seconds ticked away…

 

No honor amongst thieves…

What will it be, old boy I challenged myself,

What will you have it be?........

To see what his decision ultimately was, and the eventual path it led to, see the album question answered)

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Life is not about waiting out the storm, but about learning to dance in the rain.

Vie ne est pas d'attendre que la tempête , mais d'apprendre à danser sous la pluie .

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Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives

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DISCLAIMER

All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents

 

The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.

 

No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.

 

These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.

As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.

We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.

 

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Interesting array of trees, planted quite densely at the Filoli Gardens, California.

 

Below is another shot of it looking at the opposite direction. In the image above, I had the sunlight against me, and in the shot below, behind me. It is interesting to see how that affected the exposure and white balance. The two shots were taken back to back, with almost no time lag between them.

 

Leica S2 + Leica APO Macro Summarit-S 120mm f/2.5

 

S2202827

View my most interesting photos on Flickriver

 

All images © 2012-2013 Eric Goncalves.

Photoblog: 14 Jul 2006

 

Array

 

 

spices shot with a Nikon D80 w/ SB-28 on a side tripod with a white background

 

FOOD07D008

 

Found at kathrynelliott.com.au/blog/2008/04/02/the-moroccan-spice-...

 

The Qutb Minar also spelled Qutab or Qutub, is an array of monuments and buildings at Mehrauli in Delhi, India. The construction of Qutb Minar was intended as a Victory Tower, to celebrate the victory of Mohammed Ghori over Rajput king, Prithviraj Chauhan, in 1192 AD, by his then viceroy, Qutb-ud-din Aibak, who later became the first Sultan of Delhi of Mamluk dynasty. After the death of the commissioner, the Minar was added upon by his successor Iltutmish (aka Altamash) and much later by Firoz Shah Tughlaq, a Tughlaq dynasty, Sultan of Delhi in 1368 AD.

The complex was added to by many subsequent rulers, including Firoz Shah Tughlaq and Ala ud din Khilji as well as the British. Some constructions in the complex are the Qutb Minar, the Quwwat ul-Islam Mosque, the Alai Gate, the Alai Minar, the Iron pillar, and the tombs of Iltutmish, Alauddin Khilji and Imam Zamin; surrounded by Jain temple ruins. In all, Islamic fanatic ruler Qutb-ud-din Aibak destroyed 27 Hindu and jain temples and reused the building materials for construction of Quwwat-ul-Islam mosque and the Qutub Minar according to a Persian inscription still on the inner eastern gateway

 

Today, the adjoining area spread over with a host of old monuments, including Balban's tomb, has been developed by Archeological Survey of India (ASI) as the Mehrauli Archeological Park, and INTACH has restored some 40 monuments in the Park. It is also the venue of the annual 'Qutub Festival', held in November–December, where artists, musicians and dancers perform over three days. Qutb Minar complex, with 3.9 million visitors, was India's most visited monument in 2006, ahead of the Taj Mahal, which drew about 2.5 million visitors.

Photoblog: 02 May 2007

 

Array

They will be smushed first! ;)

Solar power matrix.

A lot of my work lately has been creating and comparing datasets from professional development workshops. Google Apps Script uses a JavaScript syntax and can pass information back and forth using JSON, so I'm seeing arrays everywhere I look.

The infamous terminal 2 of Manchester international. Perhaps the most popular terminals with aviaton fans and photographers. The usual photographs of this terminal are taken from the garage between terminal one and two offering amazing views of the airside of terminal 2 and some of terminal 1. The famous array of aircraft tails all lined up and sitting at the gates is one of the common photographs seen of terminal 2. Depending on the time of day (usually early morning to mid afternoon) one can spot anything from a Boeing 757 to at least tep A350s, 747s and A330s of virgin Atlantic and the beautiful blue 767s 787s of TUI UK.

 

Manchester Airport currently consists of 3 terminals and is a major gateway for the North(West) of England.

Photoblog: 23 May 2006

 

Array

I've always found wafers really pretty, so I bought a few scrap ones on ebay a few months ago. Today I finally got a picture that I like out of one of them, and as much as I tried using artificial light sources, just using the sun was the way to go.

 

Also, in my stupidity, I didn't realize this thing would heat up like crazy in direct sunlight!

Inside the Neil Armstrong Operations and Checkout Building high bay at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida, in preparation for installation on the Artemis I spacecraft, technicians have extended one of the Artemis I solar array wings for inspection on Sept. 10, 2020, to confirm that it unfurled properly and all of the mechanisms functioned as expected. The solar array is one of four panels that will generate 11 kilowatts of power and span about 63 feet. The array is a component of Orion’s service module, which is provided by the European Space Agency and built by Airbus Defence and Space to supply Orion’s power, propulsion, air and water. The first in a series of increasingly complex missions, Artemis I will test the Orion spacecraft and Space Launch System as an integrated system ahead of crewed flights to the Moon. Under the Artemis program, NASA will land the first woman and the next man on the Moon in 2024.

 

Very Large Array (VLA) near Socorro, New Mexico. Visit during a storm created some interesting photographs.

PictionID:54474855 - Catalog:Atlas 5 AV-005 - Title:Array - Filename:Atlas 5 AV-005-3.jpg - Images from the Convair/General Dynamics Astronautics Atlas Negative Collection. The processing, cataloging and digitization of these images has been made possible by a generous National Historical Publications and Records grant from the National Archives and Records Administration---Please Tag these images so that the information can be permanently stored with the digital file.---Repository: San Diego Air and Space Museum