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And so to the weekend again. And what might be the last orchid-free weekend until well into June or even August.
So, enjoy the churches while you can.
Saturday, and not much really planned. We get up at half six with it fully light outside. The cloud and drizzle had not arrived, instead it was pretty clear and sunny.
No time for thinking about going out to take shots, as we had hunter-gathering to do.
In fact, we didn't need much, just the usual stuff to keep us going. That and the car was running on fumes. So we will that up first, and then into Tesco and round and round we go, fully the trolley up. It being Mother's Day on Saturday, we were having Jen round on Sunday, we were to have steak, so I get mushrooms.
And once back, we have breakfast then go to Preston for the actual steak, three ribeyes, all cut from the same stip. Jools had gone to look at the garden centre for ideas as we're going to dig up the raspberries, so just wondering what to put in their place.
By then the rain had come, and so we dashed back to the car, and on the way home called in at two churches.
First off was Goodnestone, just the other side of Wingham.
Its a fine estate church, covered in wonderfully knapped bricks, giving it an East Anglian feel. Before we went in, we sheltered under a tree to much on a sausage roll I had bought at the butcher, that done, we go to the church, which is open.
I have been here quite recently, five years back, and in truth no much glass to record, but I do my best, leave a fiver of the weekly collection and we drove over the fields to Eastry.
St Mary is an impressive church, with carved and decorated west face of the Norman tower, at its base an odd lean-to porch has been created, leading into the church, which does have interest other than the 35 painted medallions high in the Chancel Arch, once the backdrop to the Rood.
I snap them with the big lens, and the windows too. A warden points out what looks like a very much older painted window high among the roof timbers in the east wall of the Chancel.
I get a shot, which is good enough, but even with a 400mm lens, is some crop.
I finish up and we go home, taking it carefully along nearly flooded roads.
Being a Saturday, there is football, though nothing much of interest until three when Norwich kick off against Stoke: could they kick it on a wet Saturday afternoon in the Potteries?
No. No, they couldn't.
Ended 0-0, City second best, barely laid a glove on the Stoke goal.
And then spots galore: Ireland v England in the egg-chasing, Citeh v Burnley in the Cup and Chelsea v Everton in the league, all live on various TV channels.
I watch the first half of the rugby, then switch over when England were reduced to 14, so did enjoy the lad Haarland score another hat-trick in a 6-0 demolition.
And that was that, another day over with.....
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Set away from the main street but on one of the earliest sites in the village, flint-built Eastry church has an over restored appearance externally but this gives way to a noteworthy interior. Built in the early thirteenth century by its patrons, Christ Church Canterbury, it was always designed to be a statement of both faith and power. The nave has a clerestory above round piers whilst the east nave wall has a pair of quatrefoils pierced through into the chancel. However this feature pales into insignificance when one sees what stands between them - a square panel containing 35 round paintings in medallions. There are four deigns including the Lily for Our Lady; a dove; Lion; Griffin. They would have formed a backdrop to the Rood which would have been supported on a beam the corbels of which survive below the paintings. On the centre pier of the south aisle is a very rare feature - a beautifully inscribed perpetual calendar or `Dominical Circle` to help find the Dominical letter of the year. Dating from the fourteenth century it divides the calendar into a sequence of 28 years. The reredos is an alabaster structure dating from the Edwardian period - a rather out of place object in a church of this form, but a good piece of work in its own right. On the west wall is a good early 19th century Royal Arms with hatchments on either side and there are many good monuments both ledger slabs and hanging tablets. Of the latter the finest commemorates John Harvey who died in 1794. It shows his ship the Brunswick fighting with all guns blazing with the French ship the Vengeur. John Bacon carved the Elder this detailed piece of work.
www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Eastry
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Above the Chancel Arch, enclosed within a rectangular frame, are rows of seven "medallion" wall paintings; the lower group was discovered in 1857 and the rest in 1903. They remained in a rather dilapidated state until the Canterbury Cathedral Wall Paintings Department brought them back to life.
The medallions are evidently of the 13th Century, having been painted while the mortar was still wet. Each medallion contains one of four motifs:
The trefoil flower, pictured left, is perhaps a symbol of the Blessed Virgin Mary to whom the church is dedicated; or symbolic of Christ.
The lion; symbolic of the Resurrection
Doves, either singly, or in pairs, represent the Holy Spirit
The Griffin represents evil, over which victory is won by the power of the Resurrection and the courage of the Christian.
www.ewbchurches.org.uk/eastrychurchhistory.htm
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EASTRY,
THE next parish north-eastward from Knolton is Eastry. At the time of taking the survey of Domesday, it was of such considerable account, that it not only gave name, as it does at present, to the hundred, but to the greatest part of the lath in which it stands, now called the lath of St. Augustine. There are two boroughs in this parish, viz. the borough of Hardenden, which is within the upper half hundred of Downhamford, and comprehends the districts of Hardenden, Selson and Skrinkling, and the borough of Eastry, the borsholder of which is chosen at Eastry-court, and comprehends all the rest of the parish, excepting so much of it as lies within that part of the borough of Felderland, which is within this parish.
THE PARISH OF EASTRY, a healthy and not unpleasant situation, is about two miles and an half from north to south, but it is much narrower the other way, at the broadest extent of which it is not more than a mile and an half. The village of Eastry is situated on a pleasing eminence, almost in the centre of the parish, exhiblting a picturesque appearance from many points of view. The principal street in it is called Eastrystreet; from it branch off Mill street, Church-street and Brook-street. In Mill street is a spacious handsome edisice lately erected there, as a house of industry, for the poor of the several united parishes of Eastry, Norborne, Betshanger, Tilmanstone, Waldershare, Coldred, Lydden, Shebbertswell, Swynfield, Wootton, Denton, Chillenden and Knolton. In Churchstreet, on the east side, stands the church, with the court-lodge and parsonage adjoining the church-yard; in this street is likewise the vicarage. In Brook-street, is a neat modern house, the residence of Wm. Boteler, esq. and another belonging to Mr. Thomas Rammell, who resides in it. Mention will be found hereafter, under the description of the borough of Hernden, in this parish, of the descent and arms of the Botelers resident there for many generations. Thomas Boteler, who died possessed of that estate in 1651, left three sons, the youngest of whom, Richard, was of Brook-street, and died in 1682; whose great-grandson, W. Boteler, esq. is now of Brook-street; a gentleman to whom the editor is much indebted for his communications and assistance, towards the description of this hundred, and its adjoining neighbourhood. He has been twice married; first to Sarah, daughter and coheir of Thomas Fuller, esq. of Statenborough, by whom he has one son, William Fuller, now a fellow of St. Peter's college, Cambridge: secondly, to Mary, eldest daughter of John Harvey, esq. of Sandwich and Hernden, late captain of the royal navy, by whom he has five sons and three daughters. He bears for his arms, Argent, on three escutcheons, sable, three covered cups, or; which coat was granted to his ancestor, Richard Boteler, esq. of Hernden, by Cooke, clar. in 1589. Mr. Boteler, of Eastry, is the last surviving male of the family, both of Hernden and Brook-street. Eastry-street, comprizing the neighbourhood of the above mentioned branches, may be said to contain about sixty-four houses.
At the south-east boundary of this parish lies the hamlet of Updown, adjoining to Ham and Betshanger, in the former of which parishes some account of it has been already given. At the southern bounds, adjoining to Tilmanstone, lies the hamlet of Westone, formerly called Wendestone. On the western side lies the borough of Hernden, which although in this parish, is yet within the hundred of Downhamford and manor of Adisham; in the southern part of it is Shrinkling, or Shingleton, as it is now called, and the hamlet of Hernden. At the northern part of this borough lie the hamlets and estates of Selson, Wells, and Gore. Towards the northern boundary of the parish, in the road to Sandwich, is the hamlet of Statenborough, and at a small distance from it is that part of the borough of Felderland, or Fenderland, as it is usually called, within this parish, in which, adjoining the road which branches off to Word, is a small seat, now the property and residence of Mrs. Dare, widow of Wm. Dare, esq. who resides in it. (fn. 1)
Round the village the lands are for a little distance, and on towards Statenborough, inclosed with hedges and trees, but the rest of the parish is in general an open uninclosed country of arable land, like the neighbouring ones before described; the soil of it towards the north is most fertile, in the other parts it is rather thin, being much inclined to chalk, except in the bottoms, where it is much of a stiff clay, for this parish is a continued inequality of hill and dale; notwithstanding the above, there is a great deal of good fertile land in the parish, which meets on an average rent at fifteen shillings an acre. There is no wood in it. The parish contains about two thousand six hundred and fifty acres; the yearly rents of it are assessed to the poor at 2679l.
At the south end of the village is a large pond, called Butsole; and adjoining to it on the east side, a field, belonging to Brook-street estate, called the Butts; from whence it is conjectured that Butts were formerly erected in it, for the practice of archery among the inhabitants.
A fair is held here for cattle, pedlary, and toys, on October the 2d, (formerly on St. Matthew's day, September the 21st) yearly.
IN 1792, MR. BOTELER, of Brook-street, discovered, on digging a cellar in the garden of a cottage, situated eastward of the highway leading from Eastrycross to Butsole, an antient burying ground, used as such in the latter time of the Roman empire in Britain, most probably by the inhabitants of this parish, and the places contiguous to it. He caused several graves to be opened, and found with the skeletons, fibulæ, beads, knives,umbones of shields, &c. and in one a glass vessel. From other skeletons, which have been dug up in the gardens nearer the cross, it is imagined, that they extended on the same side the road up to the cross, the ground of which is now pretty much covered with houses; the heaps of earth, or barrows, which formerly remained over them, have long since been levelled, by the great length of time and the labour of the husbandman; the graves were very thick, in rows parallel to each other, in a direction from east to west.
St. Ivo's well, mentioned by Nierembergius, in Historia de Miraculis Natureæ, lib. ii. cap. 33; which I noticed in my folio edition as not being able to find any tradition of in this parish, I have since found was at a place that formerly went by the name of Estre, and afterwards by that of Plassiz, near St. Ives, in Huntingdonshire. See Gales Scriptores, xv. vol. i. p.p. 271, 512.
This place gave birth to Henry de Eastry, who was first a monk, and then prior of Christ-church, in Canterbury; who, for his learning as well as his worthy acts, became an ornament, not only to the society he presided over, but to his country in general. He continued prior thirty-seven years, and died, far advanced in life, in 1222.
THIS PLACE, in the time of the Saxons, appears to have been part of the royal domains, accordingly Simon of Durham, monk and precentor of that church, in his history, stiles it villa regalis, quæ vulgari dicitur Easterige pronuncione, (the royal ville, or manor, which in the vulgar pronunciation was called Easterige), which shews the antient pre-eminence and rank of this place, for these villæ regales, or regiæ, as Bede calls them, of the Saxons, were usually placed upon or near the spot, where in former ages the Roman stations had been before; and its giving name both to the lath and hundred in which it is situated corroborates the superior consequence it was then held in. Egbert, king of Kent, was in possession of it about the year 670, at which time his two cousins, Ethelred and Ethelbright, sons of his father's elder brother Ermenfrid, who had been entrusted to his care by their uncle, the father of Egbert, were, as writers say, murdered in his palace here by his order, at the persuasion of one Thunnor, a slattering courtier, lest they should disturb him in the possession of the crown. After which Thunnor buried them in the king's hall here, under the cloth of estate, from whence, as antient tradition reports, their bodies were afterwards removed to a small chapel belonging to the palace, and buried there under the altar at the east end of it, and afterwards again with much pomp to the church of Ramsey abbey. To expiate the king's guilt, according to the custom of those times, he gave to Domneva, called also Ermenburga, their sister, a sufficient quantity of land in the isle of Thanet, on which she might found a monastery.
How long it continued among the royal domains, I have not found; but before the termination of the Saxon heptarchy, THE MANOR OF EASTRY was become part of the possessions of the see of Canterbury, and it remained so till the year 811, when archbishop Wilfred exchanged it with his convent of Christchurch for their manor of Bourne, since from the archbishop's possession of it called Bishopsbourne. After which, in the year 979 king Ægelred, usually called Ethelred, increased the church's estates here, by giving to it the lands of his inheritance in Estrea, (fn. 2) free from all secular service and siscal tribute, except the repelling of invasions and the repairing of bridges and castles, usually stiled the trinoda necessitas; (fn. 3) and in the possession of the prior and convent bove-mentioned, this manor continued at the taking of the survey of Domesday, being entered in it under the general title of Terra Monachorum Archiepi; that is, the land of the monks of the archbishop, as follows:
In the lath of Estrei in Estrei hundred, the archbishop himself holds Estrei. It was taxed at Seven sulings. The arable land is . . . . In demesne there are three carucates and seventy two villeins, with twenty-two borderers, having twenty-four carucates. There is one mill and a half of thirty shillings, and three salt pits of four shillings, and eighteen acres of meadow. Wood for the pannage of ten hogs.
After which, this manor continued in the possession of the priory, and in the 10th year of king Edward II. the prior obtained a grant of free-warren in all his demesne lands in it, among others; about which time it was valued at 65l. 3s. after which king Henry VI. in his 28th year, confirmed the above liberty, and granted to it a market, to be held at Eastry weekly on a Tuesday, and a fair yearly, on the day of St. Matthew the Apostle and Evangelist; in which state it continued till the dissolution of the priory in the 31st year of king Henry VIII. when it came in to the king's hands, where it did not remain long, for he settled it, among other premises, in the 33d year of his reign, on his new created dean and chapter of Canterbury, part of whose possessions it continues at this time. A court leet and court baron is held for this manor.
The manerial rights, profits of courts, royalties, &c. the dean and chapter retain in their own hands; but the demesne lands of the manor, with the courtlodge, which is a large antient mansion, situated adjoining to the church-yard, have been from time to time demised on a benesicial lease. The house is large, partly antient and partly modern, having at different times undergone great alterations. In the south wall are the letters T. A. N. in flint, in large capitals, being the initials of Thomas and Anne Nevinson. Mr. Isaac Bargrave, father of the present lessee, new fronted the house, and the latter in 1786 put the whole in complete repair, in doing which, he pulled down a considerable part of the antient building, consisting of stone walls of great strength and thickness, bringing to view some gothic arched door ways of stone, which proved the house to have been of such construction formerly, and to have been a very antient building. The chapel, mentioned before, is at the east end of the house. The east window, consisting of three compartments, is still visible, though the spaces are filled up, it having for many years been converted into a kitchen, and before the last alteration by Mr. Bargrave the whole of it was entire.
At this mansion, then in the hands of the prior and convent of Christ-church, archbishop Thomas Becket, after his stight from Northampton in the year 1164, concealed himself for eight days, and then, on Nov. 10, embarked at Sandwich for France. (fn. 4)
The present lessee is Isaac Bargrave, esq. who resides at the court-lodge, whose ancestors have been lessees of this estate for many years past.
THE NEVINSONS, as lessees, resided at the courtlodge of Eastry for many years. They were originally of Brigend, in Wetherell, in Cumberland. They bore for their arms, Argent, a chevron, between three eagles displayed, azure. Many of them lie buried in Eastry church. (fn. 5)
THE FAMILY of Bargrave, alias Bargar, was originally of Bridge, and afterwards of the adjoining parish of Patrixbourne; where John Bargrave, eldest son of Robert, built the seat of Bifrons, and resided at it, of whom notice has already been taken in vol. ix. of this history, p. 280. Isaac Bargrave, the sixth son of Robert above-mentioned, and younger brother of John, who built Bifrons, was ancestor of the Bargraves, of Eastry; he was S. T. P. and dean of Canterbury, a man of strict honour and high principles of loyalty, for which he suffered the most cruel treatment. He died in 1642, having married in 1618 Elizabeth, daughter of John Dering, esq. of Egerton, by Elizabeth, sister of Edward lord Wotton, the son of John Dering, esq. of Surrenden, by Margaret Brent. Their descendant, Isaac Bargrave, esq. now living, was an eminent solicitor in London, from which he has retired for some years, and now resides at Eastry-court, of which he is the present lessee. He married Sarah, eldest daughter of George Lynch, M. D. of Canterbury, who died at Herne in 1787, S.P. They bear for their arms, Or, on a pale gules, a sword, the blade argent, pomelled, or, on a chief vert three bezants.
SHRINKLING, alias SHINGLETON, the former of which is its original name, though now quite lost, is a small manor at the south-west boundary of this pa Kent, anno 1619. rish, adjoining to Nonington. It is within the borough of Heronden, or Hardonden, as it is now called, and as such, is within the upper half hundred of Downhamford. This manor had antiently owners of the same name; one of whom, Sir William de Scrinkling, held it in king Edward I.'s reign, and was succeeded by Sir Walter de Scrinkling his son, who held it by knight's service of Hamo de Crevequer, (fn. 6) and in this name it continued in the 20th year of king Edward III.
Soon after which it appears to have been alienated to William Langley, of Knolton, from which name it passed in like manner as Knolton to the Peytons and the Narboroughs, and thence by marriage to Sir Thomas D'Aeth, whose grandson Sir Narborough D'Aeth, bart. now of Knolton, is at present entitled to it.
There was a chapel belonging to this manor, the ruins of which are still visible in the wood near it, which was esteemed as a chapel of ease to the mother church of Eastry, and was appropriated with it by archbishop Richard, Becket's immediate successor, to the almory of the priory of Christ-church; but the chapel itself seems to have become desolate many years before the dissolution of the priory, most probably soon after the family of Shrinkling became extinct; the Langleys, who resided at the adjoining manor of Knolton, having no occasion for the use of it. The chapel stood in Shingleton wood, near the south east corner; the foundations of it have been traced, though level with the surface, and not easily discovered. There is now on this estate only one house, built within memory, before which there was only a solitary barn, and no remains of the antient mansion of it.
HERONDEN, alias HARDENDEN, now usually called HERONDEN, is a district in this parish, situated about a mile northward from Shingleton, within the borough of its own name, the whole of which is within the upper half hundred of Downhamford. It was once esteemed as a manor, though it has not had even the name of one for many years past, the manor of Adisham claiming over it. The mansion of it was antiently the residence of a family of the same name, who bore for their arms, Argent, a heron with one talon erect, gaping for breath, sable. These arms are on a shield, which is far from modern, in Maidstone church, being quarterly, Heronden as above, with sable, three escallop shells, two and one, argent; and in a window of Lincoln's Inn chapel is a coat of arms of a modern date, being that of Anthony Heronden, esq. Argent, a heron, azure, between three escallops, sable. One of this family of Heronden lies buried in this church, and in the time of Robert Glover, Somerset herald, his portrait and coat of arms, in brass, were remaining on his tombstone. The coat of arms is still extant in very old rolls and registers in the Heralds office, where the family is stiled Heronden, of Heronden, in Eastry; nor is the name less antient, as appears by deeds which commence from the reign of Henry III. which relate to this estate and name; but after this family had remained possessed of this estate for so many years it at last descended down in king Richard II.'s reign, to Sir William Heronden, from whom it passed most probably either by gift or sale, to one of the family of Boteler, or Butler, then resident in this neighbourhood, descended from those of this name, formerly seated at Butler's sleet, in Ash, whose ancestor Thomas Pincerna, or le Boteler, held that manor in king John's reign, whence his successors assumed the name of Butler, alias Boteler, or as they were frequently written Botiller, and bore for their arms, One or more covered cups, differently placed and blazoned. In this family the estate descended to John Boteler, who lived in the time of king Henry VI. and resided at Sandwich, of which town he was several times mayor, and one of the burgesses in two parliaments of that reign; he lies buried in St. Peter's church there. His son Richard, who was also of Sandwich, had a grant of arms in 1470, anno 11th Edward IV. by Thomas Holme, norroy, viz. Gyronny of six, argent and sable, a covered cup, or, between three talbots heads, erased and counterchanged of the field, collared, gules, garnished of the third. His great-grandson Henry Boteler rebuilt the mansion of Heronden, to which he removed in 1572, being the last of his family who resided at Sandwich. He had the above grant of arms confirmed to him, and died in 1580, being buried in Eastry church. Richard Boteler, of Heronden, his eldest son by his first wife, resided at this seat, and in 1589 obtained a grant from Robert Cook, clarencieux, of a new coat of arms, viz. Argent, on three escutcheons, sable, three convered cups, or. Ten years after which, intending as it should seem, to shew himself a descendant of the family of this name, seated at Graveney, but then extinct, he obtained in 1599 a grant of their arms from William Dethic, garter, and William Camden, clarencieux, to him and his brother William, viz. Quarterly, first and fourth, sable, three covered cups, or, within a bordure, argent; second and third, Argent, a fess, chequy, argent and gules, in chief three cross-croslets of the last, as appears (continues the grant) on a gravestone in Graveney church. He died in 1600, and was buried in Eastry church, leaving issue among other children Jonathan and Thomas. (fn. 7) Jonathan Boteler, the eldest son, of Hernden, died unmarried possessed of it in 1626, upon which it came to his next surviving brother Thomas Boteler, of Rowling, who upon that removed to Hernden, and soon afterwards alienated that part of it, since called THE MIDDLE FARM, to Mr. Henry Pannell, from whom soon afterwards, but how I know not, it came into the family of Reynolds; from which name it was about fifty years since alienated to John Dekewer, esq. of Hackney, who dying in 1762, devised it to his nephew John Dekewer, esq. of Hackney, the present possessor of it.
THIS PARISH is within the ECCLESIASTICAL JURISDICTION of the diocese of Canterbury, and deanry of Sandwich.
The church, which is exempted from the archdeacon, is dedicated to St. Mary; it is a large handsome building, consisting of a nave and two side isles, a chancel at the east end, remarkably long, and a square tower, which is very large, at the west end, in which are five very unmusical bells. The church is well kept and neatly paved, and exhibits a noble appearance, to which the many handsome monuments in it contribute much. The arch over the west door is circular, but no other parts of the church has any shew of great antiquity. In the chancel are monuments for the Paramors and the Fullers, of Statenborough, arms of the latter, Argent, three bars, and a canton, gules. A monument for several of the Bargrave family. An elegant pyramidial one, on which is a bust and emblematical sculpture for John Broadley, gent. many years surgeon at Dover, obt. 1784. Several gravestones, with brasses, for the Nevinsons. A gravestone for Joshua Paramour, gent. buried 1650. Underneath this chancel are two vaults, for the families of Paramour and Bargrave. In the nave, a monument for Anne, daughter of Solomon Harvey, gent. of this parish, ob. 1751; arms, Argent, on a chevron, between three lions gambs, sable, armed gules, three crescents, or; another for William Dare, esq. late of Fenderland, in this parish, obt. 1770; arms, Gules, a chevron vaire, between three crescents, argent, impaling argent, on a cross, sable, four lions passant, quardant of the field, for Read.—Against the wall an inscription in Latin, for the Drue Astley Cressemer, A. M. forty-eight years vicar of this parish, obt. 1746; he presented the communion plate to this church and Worth, and left a sum of money to be laid out in ornamenting this church, at which time the antient stalls, which were in the chancel, were taken away, and the chancel was ceiled, and the church otherwise beautified; arms, Argent, on a bend engrailed, sable, three cross-croslets, fitchee, or. A monument for several of the Botelers, of this parish; arms, Boteler, argent, on three escutcheons, sable, three covered cups, or, impaling Morrice. Against a pillar, a tablet and inscription, shewing that in a vault lieth Catherine, wife of John Springett, citizen and apothecary of London. He died in 1770; arms, Springett, per fess, argent and gules, a fess wavy, between three crescents, counterchanged, impaling Harvey. On the opposite pillar another, for the Rev. Richard Harvey, fourteen years vicar of this parish, obt. 1772. A monument for Richard Kelly, of Eastry, obt. 1768; arms, Two lions rampant, supporting a castle. Against the wall, an elegant sculptured monument, in alto relievo, for Sarah, wise of William Boteler, a daughter of Thomas Fuller, esq. late of Statenborough, obt. 1777, æt. 29; she died in childbed, leaving one son, William Fuller Boteler; arms at bottom, Boteler, as above, an escutcheon of pretence, Fuller, quartering Paramor. An elegant pyramidal marble and tablet for Robert Bargrave, of this parish, obt. 1779, for Elizabeth his wife, daughter of Sir Francis Leigh, of Hawley; and for Robert Bargrave, their only son, proctor in Doctors Commons, obt. 1774, whose sole surviving daughter Rebecca married James Wyborne, of Sholdon; arms, Bargrave, with a mullet, impaling Leigh. In the cross isle, near the chancel called the Boteler's isle, are several memorials for the Botelers. Adjoining to these, are three other gravestones, all of which have been inlaid, but the brasses are gone; they were for the same family, and on one of them was lately remaining the antient arms of Boteler, Girony of six pieces, &c. impaling ermine of three spots. Under the church are vaults, for the families of Springett, Harvey, Dare, and Bargrave. In the church-yard, on the north side of the church, are several altar tombs for the Paramors; and on the south side are several others for the Harveys, of this parish, and for Fawlkner, Rammell, and Fuller. There are also vaults for the families of Fuller, Rammell, and Petman.
There were formerly painted in the windows of this church, these arms, Girony of six, sable and argent, a covered cup, or, between three talbots heads, erased and counter changed of the field, collared, gules; for Boteler, of Heronden, impaling Boteler, of Graveny, Sable, three covered cups, or, within a bordure, argent; Boteler, of Heronden, as above, quartering three spots, ermine; the coat of Theobald, with quarterings. Several of the Frynnes, or as they were afterwards called, Friends, who lived at Waltham in this parish in king Henry VII.'s reign, lie buried in this church.
In the will of William Andrewe, of this parish, anno 1507, mention is made of our Ladie chapel, in the church-yard of the church of Estrie.
The eighteen stalls which were till lately in the chancel of the church, were for the use of the monks of the priory of Christ church, owners both of the manor and appropriation, when they came to pass any time at this place, as they frequently did, as well for a country retirement as to manage their concerns here; and for any other ecclesiastics, who might be present at divine service here, all such, in those times, sitting in the chancels of churches distinct from the laity.
The church of Eastry, with the chapels of Skrinkling and Worth annexed, was antiently appendant to the manor of Eastry, and was appropriated by archbishop Richard (successor to archbishop Becket) in the reign of king Henry II. to the almonry of the priory of Christ-church, but it did not continue long so, for archbishop Baldwin, (archbishop Richard's immediate successor), having quarrelled with the monks, on account of his intended college at Hackington, took this appropriation from them, and thus it remained as a rectory, at the archbishop's disposal, till the 39th year of king Edward III.'s reign, (fn. 10) when archbishop Simon Islip, with the king's licence, restored, united and annexed it again to the priory; but it appears, that in return for this grant, the archbishop had made over to him, by way of exchange, the advowsons of the churches of St. Dunstan, St. Pancrase, and All Saints in Bread-street, in London, all three belonging to the priory. After which, that is anno 8 Richard II. 1384, this church was valued among the revenues of the almonry of Christ-church, at the yearly value of 53l. 6s. 8d. and it continued afterwards in the same state in the possession of the monks, who managed it for the use of the almonry, during which time prior William Sellyng, who came to that office in Edward IV.'s reign, among other improvements on several estates belonging to his church, built a new dormitory at this parsonage for the monks resorting hither.
On the dissolution of the priory of Christ-church, in the 31st year of king Henry VIII.'s reign, this appropriation, with the advowson of the vicarage of the church of Eastry, was surrendered into the king's hands, where it staid but a small time, for he granted it in his 33d year, by his dotation charter, to his new founded dean and chapter of Canterbury, who are the present owners of this appropriation; but the advowson of the vicarage, notwithstanding it was granted with the appropriation, to the dean and chapter as above-mentioned, appears not long afterwards to have become parcel of the possessions of the see of Canterbury, where it continues at this time, his grace the archbishop being the present patron of it.
This parsonage is entitled to the great tithes of this parish and of Worth; there belong to it of glebe land in Eastry, Tilmanstone, and Worth, in all sixtynine acres.
THERE IS A SMALL MANOR belonging to it, called THE MANOR OF THE AMBRY, OR ALMONRY OF CHRIST-CHURCH, the quit-rents of which are very inconsiderable.
The parsonage-house is large and antient; in the old parlour window is a shield of arms, being those of Partheriche, impaling quarterly Line and Hamerton. The parsonage is of the annual rent of about 700l. The countess dowager of Guildford became entitled to the lease of this parsonage, by the will of her husband the earl of Guildford, and since her death the interest of it is become vested in her younger children.
As to the origin of a vicarage in this church, though there was one endowed in it by archbishop Peckham, in the 20th year of king Edward I. anno 1291, whilst this church continued in the archbishop's hands, yet I do not find that there was a vicar instituted in it, but that it remained as a rectory, till near three years after it had been restored to the priory of Christchurch, when, in the 42d year of king Edward III. a vicar was instituted in it, between whom and the prior and chapter of Canterbury, there was a composition concerning his portion, which he should have as an endowment of this vicarage; which composition was confirmed by archbishop Simon Langham that year; and next year there was an agreement entered into between the eleemosinary of Christ-church and the vicar, concerning the manse of this vicarage.
The vicarage of Eastry, with the chapel of Worth annexed, is valued in the king's books at 19l. 12s. 1d. and the yearly tenths at 1l. 19s. 2½d. In 1588 it was valued at sixty pounds. Communicants three hundred and thirty-five. In 1640 here were the like number of communicants, and it was valued at one hundred pounds.
The antient pension of 5l. 6s. 8d. formerly paid by the priory, is still paid to the vicar by the dean and chapter, and also an augmentation of 14l. 13s. 4d. yearly, by the lessee of the parsonage, by a convenant in his lease.
The vicarage-house is built close to the farm-yard of the parsonage; the land allotted to it is very trifling, not even sufficient for a tolerable garden; the foundations of the house are antient, and probably part of the original building when the vicarage was endowed in 1367.
¶There were two awards made in 1549 and 1550, on a controversy between the vicar of Eastry and the mayor, &c. of Sandwich, whether the scite of St. Bartholomew's hospital, near Sandwich, within that port and liberty, was subject to the payment of tithes to the vicar, as being within his parish. Both awards adjudged the legality of a payment, as due to the vicar; but the former award adjudged that the scite of the hospital was not, and the latter, that it was within the bounds of this parish. (fn. 12)
On a recent trip to the desert, two pronghorn dashed across the road in front of me. They stopped about 50 yards out, and simultaneously turned back to look at me. I was able to grab this quick shot of the two of them before they decided they didn't like me and ran off into the distance.
Old Pony Express Rd. Tooele County, Utah.
And so to the weekend again. And what might be the last orchid-free weekend until well into June or even August.
So, enjoy the churches while you can.
Saturday, and not much really planned. We get up at half six with it fully light outside. The cloud and drizzle had not arrived, instead it was pretty clear and sunny.
No time for thinking about going out to take shots, as we had hunter-gathering to do.
In fact, we didn't need much, just the usual stuff to keep us going. That and the car was running on fumes. So we will that up first, and then into Tesco and round and round we go, fully the trolley up. It being Mother's Day on Saturday, we were having Jen round on Sunday, we were to have steak, so I get mushrooms.
And once back, we have breakfast then go to Preston for the actual steak, three ribeyes, all cut from the same stip. Jools had gone to look at the garden centre for ideas as we're going to dig up the raspberries, so just wondering what to put in their place.
By then the rain had come, and so we dashed back to the car, and on the way home called in at two churches.
First off was Goodnestone, just the other side of Wingham.
Its a fine estate church, covered in wonderfully knapped bricks, giving it an East Anglian feel. Before we went in, we sheltered under a tree to much on a sausage roll I had bought at the butcher, that done, we go to the church, which is open.
I have been here quite recently, five years back, and in truth no much glass to record, but I do my best, leave a fiver of the weekly collection and we drove over the fields to Eastry.
St Mary is an impressive church, with carved and decorated west face of the Norman tower, at its base an odd lean-to porch has been created, leading into the church, which does have interest other than the 35 painted medallions high in the Chancel Arch, once the backdrop to the Rood.
I snap them with the big lens, and the windows too. A warden points out what looks like a very much older painted window high among the roof timbers in the east wall of the Chancel.
I get a shot, which is good enough, but even with a 400mm lens, is some crop.
I finish up and we go home, taking it carefully along nearly flooded roads.
Being a Saturday, there is football, though nothing much of interest until three when Norwich kick off against Stoke: could they kick it on a wet Saturday afternoon in the Potteries?
No. No, they couldn't.
Ended 0-0, City second best, barely laid a glove on the Stoke goal.
And then spots galore: Ireland v England in the egg-chasing, Citeh v Burnley in the Cup and Chelsea v Everton in the league, all live on various TV channels.
I watch the first half of the rugby, then switch over when England were reduced to 14, so did enjoy the lad Haarland score another hat-trick in a 6-0 demolition.
And that was that, another day over with.....
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Set away from the main street but on one of the earliest sites in the village, flint-built Eastry church has an over restored appearance externally but this gives way to a noteworthy interior. Built in the early thirteenth century by its patrons, Christ Church Canterbury, it was always designed to be a statement of both faith and power. The nave has a clerestory above round piers whilst the east nave wall has a pair of quatrefoils pierced through into the chancel. However this feature pales into insignificance when one sees what stands between them - a square panel containing 35 round paintings in medallions. There are four deigns including the Lily for Our Lady; a dove; Lion; Griffin. They would have formed a backdrop to the Rood which would have been supported on a beam the corbels of which survive below the paintings. On the centre pier of the south aisle is a very rare feature - a beautifully inscribed perpetual calendar or `Dominical Circle` to help find the Dominical letter of the year. Dating from the fourteenth century it divides the calendar into a sequence of 28 years. The reredos is an alabaster structure dating from the Edwardian period - a rather out of place object in a church of this form, but a good piece of work in its own right. On the west wall is a good early 19th century Royal Arms with hatchments on either side and there are many good monuments both ledger slabs and hanging tablets. Of the latter the finest commemorates John Harvey who died in 1794. It shows his ship the Brunswick fighting with all guns blazing with the French ship the Vengeur. John Bacon carved the Elder this detailed piece of work.
www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Eastry
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Above the Chancel Arch, enclosed within a rectangular frame, are rows of seven "medallion" wall paintings; the lower group was discovered in 1857 and the rest in 1903. They remained in a rather dilapidated state until the Canterbury Cathedral Wall Paintings Department brought them back to life.
The medallions are evidently of the 13th Century, having been painted while the mortar was still wet. Each medallion contains one of four motifs:
The trefoil flower, pictured left, is perhaps a symbol of the Blessed Virgin Mary to whom the church is dedicated; or symbolic of Christ.
The lion; symbolic of the Resurrection
Doves, either singly, or in pairs, represent the Holy Spirit
The Griffin represents evil, over which victory is won by the power of the Resurrection and the courage of the Christian.
www.ewbchurches.org.uk/eastrychurchhistory.htm
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EASTRY,
THE next parish north-eastward from Knolton is Eastry. At the time of taking the survey of Domesday, it was of such considerable account, that it not only gave name, as it does at present, to the hundred, but to the greatest part of the lath in which it stands, now called the lath of St. Augustine. There are two boroughs in this parish, viz. the borough of Hardenden, which is within the upper half hundred of Downhamford, and comprehends the districts of Hardenden, Selson and Skrinkling, and the borough of Eastry, the borsholder of which is chosen at Eastry-court, and comprehends all the rest of the parish, excepting so much of it as lies within that part of the borough of Felderland, which is within this parish.
THE PARISH OF EASTRY, a healthy and not unpleasant situation, is about two miles and an half from north to south, but it is much narrower the other way, at the broadest extent of which it is not more than a mile and an half. The village of Eastry is situated on a pleasing eminence, almost in the centre of the parish, exhiblting a picturesque appearance from many points of view. The principal street in it is called Eastrystreet; from it branch off Mill street, Church-street and Brook-street. In Mill street is a spacious handsome edisice lately erected there, as a house of industry, for the poor of the several united parishes of Eastry, Norborne, Betshanger, Tilmanstone, Waldershare, Coldred, Lydden, Shebbertswell, Swynfield, Wootton, Denton, Chillenden and Knolton. In Churchstreet, on the east side, stands the church, with the court-lodge and parsonage adjoining the church-yard; in this street is likewise the vicarage. In Brook-street, is a neat modern house, the residence of Wm. Boteler, esq. and another belonging to Mr. Thomas Rammell, who resides in it. Mention will be found hereafter, under the description of the borough of Hernden, in this parish, of the descent and arms of the Botelers resident there for many generations. Thomas Boteler, who died possessed of that estate in 1651, left three sons, the youngest of whom, Richard, was of Brook-street, and died in 1682; whose great-grandson, W. Boteler, esq. is now of Brook-street; a gentleman to whom the editor is much indebted for his communications and assistance, towards the description of this hundred, and its adjoining neighbourhood. He has been twice married; first to Sarah, daughter and coheir of Thomas Fuller, esq. of Statenborough, by whom he has one son, William Fuller, now a fellow of St. Peter's college, Cambridge: secondly, to Mary, eldest daughter of John Harvey, esq. of Sandwich and Hernden, late captain of the royal navy, by whom he has five sons and three daughters. He bears for his arms, Argent, on three escutcheons, sable, three covered cups, or; which coat was granted to his ancestor, Richard Boteler, esq. of Hernden, by Cooke, clar. in 1589. Mr. Boteler, of Eastry, is the last surviving male of the family, both of Hernden and Brook-street. Eastry-street, comprizing the neighbourhood of the above mentioned branches, may be said to contain about sixty-four houses.
At the south-east boundary of this parish lies the hamlet of Updown, adjoining to Ham and Betshanger, in the former of which parishes some account of it has been already given. At the southern bounds, adjoining to Tilmanstone, lies the hamlet of Westone, formerly called Wendestone. On the western side lies the borough of Hernden, which although in this parish, is yet within the hundred of Downhamford and manor of Adisham; in the southern part of it is Shrinkling, or Shingleton, as it is now called, and the hamlet of Hernden. At the northern part of this borough lie the hamlets and estates of Selson, Wells, and Gore. Towards the northern boundary of the parish, in the road to Sandwich, is the hamlet of Statenborough, and at a small distance from it is that part of the borough of Felderland, or Fenderland, as it is usually called, within this parish, in which, adjoining the road which branches off to Word, is a small seat, now the property and residence of Mrs. Dare, widow of Wm. Dare, esq. who resides in it. (fn. 1)
Round the village the lands are for a little distance, and on towards Statenborough, inclosed with hedges and trees, but the rest of the parish is in general an open uninclosed country of arable land, like the neighbouring ones before described; the soil of it towards the north is most fertile, in the other parts it is rather thin, being much inclined to chalk, except in the bottoms, where it is much of a stiff clay, for this parish is a continued inequality of hill and dale; notwithstanding the above, there is a great deal of good fertile land in the parish, which meets on an average rent at fifteen shillings an acre. There is no wood in it. The parish contains about two thousand six hundred and fifty acres; the yearly rents of it are assessed to the poor at 2679l.
At the south end of the village is a large pond, called Butsole; and adjoining to it on the east side, a field, belonging to Brook-street estate, called the Butts; from whence it is conjectured that Butts were formerly erected in it, for the practice of archery among the inhabitants.
A fair is held here for cattle, pedlary, and toys, on October the 2d, (formerly on St. Matthew's day, September the 21st) yearly.
IN 1792, MR. BOTELER, of Brook-street, discovered, on digging a cellar in the garden of a cottage, situated eastward of the highway leading from Eastrycross to Butsole, an antient burying ground, used as such in the latter time of the Roman empire in Britain, most probably by the inhabitants of this parish, and the places contiguous to it. He caused several graves to be opened, and found with the skeletons, fibulæ, beads, knives,umbones of shields, &c. and in one a glass vessel. From other skeletons, which have been dug up in the gardens nearer the cross, it is imagined, that they extended on the same side the road up to the cross, the ground of which is now pretty much covered with houses; the heaps of earth, or barrows, which formerly remained over them, have long since been levelled, by the great length of time and the labour of the husbandman; the graves were very thick, in rows parallel to each other, in a direction from east to west.
St. Ivo's well, mentioned by Nierembergius, in Historia de Miraculis Natureæ, lib. ii. cap. 33; which I noticed in my folio edition as not being able to find any tradition of in this parish, I have since found was at a place that formerly went by the name of Estre, and afterwards by that of Plassiz, near St. Ives, in Huntingdonshire. See Gales Scriptores, xv. vol. i. p.p. 271, 512.
This place gave birth to Henry de Eastry, who was first a monk, and then prior of Christ-church, in Canterbury; who, for his learning as well as his worthy acts, became an ornament, not only to the society he presided over, but to his country in general. He continued prior thirty-seven years, and died, far advanced in life, in 1222.
THIS PLACE, in the time of the Saxons, appears to have been part of the royal domains, accordingly Simon of Durham, monk and precentor of that church, in his history, stiles it villa regalis, quæ vulgari dicitur Easterige pronuncione, (the royal ville, or manor, which in the vulgar pronunciation was called Easterige), which shews the antient pre-eminence and rank of this place, for these villæ regales, or regiæ, as Bede calls them, of the Saxons, were usually placed upon or near the spot, where in former ages the Roman stations had been before; and its giving name both to the lath and hundred in which it is situated corroborates the superior consequence it was then held in. Egbert, king of Kent, was in possession of it about the year 670, at which time his two cousins, Ethelred and Ethelbright, sons of his father's elder brother Ermenfrid, who had been entrusted to his care by their uncle, the father of Egbert, were, as writers say, murdered in his palace here by his order, at the persuasion of one Thunnor, a slattering courtier, lest they should disturb him in the possession of the crown. After which Thunnor buried them in the king's hall here, under the cloth of estate, from whence, as antient tradition reports, their bodies were afterwards removed to a small chapel belonging to the palace, and buried there under the altar at the east end of it, and afterwards again with much pomp to the church of Ramsey abbey. To expiate the king's guilt, according to the custom of those times, he gave to Domneva, called also Ermenburga, their sister, a sufficient quantity of land in the isle of Thanet, on which she might found a monastery.
How long it continued among the royal domains, I have not found; but before the termination of the Saxon heptarchy, THE MANOR OF EASTRY was become part of the possessions of the see of Canterbury, and it remained so till the year 811, when archbishop Wilfred exchanged it with his convent of Christchurch for their manor of Bourne, since from the archbishop's possession of it called Bishopsbourne. After which, in the year 979 king Ægelred, usually called Ethelred, increased the church's estates here, by giving to it the lands of his inheritance in Estrea, (fn. 2) free from all secular service and siscal tribute, except the repelling of invasions and the repairing of bridges and castles, usually stiled the trinoda necessitas; (fn. 3) and in the possession of the prior and convent bove-mentioned, this manor continued at the taking of the survey of Domesday, being entered in it under the general title of Terra Monachorum Archiepi; that is, the land of the monks of the archbishop, as follows:
In the lath of Estrei in Estrei hundred, the archbishop himself holds Estrei. It was taxed at Seven sulings. The arable land is . . . . In demesne there are three carucates and seventy two villeins, with twenty-two borderers, having twenty-four carucates. There is one mill and a half of thirty shillings, and three salt pits of four shillings, and eighteen acres of meadow. Wood for the pannage of ten hogs.
After which, this manor continued in the possession of the priory, and in the 10th year of king Edward II. the prior obtained a grant of free-warren in all his demesne lands in it, among others; about which time it was valued at 65l. 3s. after which king Henry VI. in his 28th year, confirmed the above liberty, and granted to it a market, to be held at Eastry weekly on a Tuesday, and a fair yearly, on the day of St. Matthew the Apostle and Evangelist; in which state it continued till the dissolution of the priory in the 31st year of king Henry VIII. when it came in to the king's hands, where it did not remain long, for he settled it, among other premises, in the 33d year of his reign, on his new created dean and chapter of Canterbury, part of whose possessions it continues at this time. A court leet and court baron is held for this manor.
The manerial rights, profits of courts, royalties, &c. the dean and chapter retain in their own hands; but the demesne lands of the manor, with the courtlodge, which is a large antient mansion, situated adjoining to the church-yard, have been from time to time demised on a benesicial lease. The house is large, partly antient and partly modern, having at different times undergone great alterations. In the south wall are the letters T. A. N. in flint, in large capitals, being the initials of Thomas and Anne Nevinson. Mr. Isaac Bargrave, father of the present lessee, new fronted the house, and the latter in 1786 put the whole in complete repair, in doing which, he pulled down a considerable part of the antient building, consisting of stone walls of great strength and thickness, bringing to view some gothic arched door ways of stone, which proved the house to have been of such construction formerly, and to have been a very antient building. The chapel, mentioned before, is at the east end of the house. The east window, consisting of three compartments, is still visible, though the spaces are filled up, it having for many years been converted into a kitchen, and before the last alteration by Mr. Bargrave the whole of it was entire.
At this mansion, then in the hands of the prior and convent of Christ-church, archbishop Thomas Becket, after his stight from Northampton in the year 1164, concealed himself for eight days, and then, on Nov. 10, embarked at Sandwich for France. (fn. 4)
The present lessee is Isaac Bargrave, esq. who resides at the court-lodge, whose ancestors have been lessees of this estate for many years past.
THE NEVINSONS, as lessees, resided at the courtlodge of Eastry for many years. They were originally of Brigend, in Wetherell, in Cumberland. They bore for their arms, Argent, a chevron, between three eagles displayed, azure. Many of them lie buried in Eastry church. (fn. 5)
THE FAMILY of Bargrave, alias Bargar, was originally of Bridge, and afterwards of the adjoining parish of Patrixbourne; where John Bargrave, eldest son of Robert, built the seat of Bifrons, and resided at it, of whom notice has already been taken in vol. ix. of this history, p. 280. Isaac Bargrave, the sixth son of Robert above-mentioned, and younger brother of John, who built Bifrons, was ancestor of the Bargraves, of Eastry; he was S. T. P. and dean of Canterbury, a man of strict honour and high principles of loyalty, for which he suffered the most cruel treatment. He died in 1642, having married in 1618 Elizabeth, daughter of John Dering, esq. of Egerton, by Elizabeth, sister of Edward lord Wotton, the son of John Dering, esq. of Surrenden, by Margaret Brent. Their descendant, Isaac Bargrave, esq. now living, was an eminent solicitor in London, from which he has retired for some years, and now resides at Eastry-court, of which he is the present lessee. He married Sarah, eldest daughter of George Lynch, M. D. of Canterbury, who died at Herne in 1787, S.P. They bear for their arms, Or, on a pale gules, a sword, the blade argent, pomelled, or, on a chief vert three bezants.
SHRINKLING, alias SHINGLETON, the former of which is its original name, though now quite lost, is a small manor at the south-west boundary of this pa Kent, anno 1619. rish, adjoining to Nonington. It is within the borough of Heronden, or Hardonden, as it is now called, and as such, is within the upper half hundred of Downhamford. This manor had antiently owners of the same name; one of whom, Sir William de Scrinkling, held it in king Edward I.'s reign, and was succeeded by Sir Walter de Scrinkling his son, who held it by knight's service of Hamo de Crevequer, (fn. 6) and in this name it continued in the 20th year of king Edward III.
Soon after which it appears to have been alienated to William Langley, of Knolton, from which name it passed in like manner as Knolton to the Peytons and the Narboroughs, and thence by marriage to Sir Thomas D'Aeth, whose grandson Sir Narborough D'Aeth, bart. now of Knolton, is at present entitled to it.
There was a chapel belonging to this manor, the ruins of which are still visible in the wood near it, which was esteemed as a chapel of ease to the mother church of Eastry, and was appropriated with it by archbishop Richard, Becket's immediate successor, to the almory of the priory of Christ-church; but the chapel itself seems to have become desolate many years before the dissolution of the priory, most probably soon after the family of Shrinkling became extinct; the Langleys, who resided at the adjoining manor of Knolton, having no occasion for the use of it. The chapel stood in Shingleton wood, near the south east corner; the foundations of it have been traced, though level with the surface, and not easily discovered. There is now on this estate only one house, built within memory, before which there was only a solitary barn, and no remains of the antient mansion of it.
HERONDEN, alias HARDENDEN, now usually called HERONDEN, is a district in this parish, situated about a mile northward from Shingleton, within the borough of its own name, the whole of which is within the upper half hundred of Downhamford. It was once esteemed as a manor, though it has not had even the name of one for many years past, the manor of Adisham claiming over it. The mansion of it was antiently the residence of a family of the same name, who bore for their arms, Argent, a heron with one talon erect, gaping for breath, sable. These arms are on a shield, which is far from modern, in Maidstone church, being quarterly, Heronden as above, with sable, three escallop shells, two and one, argent; and in a window of Lincoln's Inn chapel is a coat of arms of a modern date, being that of Anthony Heronden, esq. Argent, a heron, azure, between three escallops, sable. One of this family of Heronden lies buried in this church, and in the time of Robert Glover, Somerset herald, his portrait and coat of arms, in brass, were remaining on his tombstone. The coat of arms is still extant in very old rolls and registers in the Heralds office, where the family is stiled Heronden, of Heronden, in Eastry; nor is the name less antient, as appears by deeds which commence from the reign of Henry III. which relate to this estate and name; but after this family had remained possessed of this estate for so many years it at last descended down in king Richard II.'s reign, to Sir William Heronden, from whom it passed most probably either by gift or sale, to one of the family of Boteler, or Butler, then resident in this neighbourhood, descended from those of this name, formerly seated at Butler's sleet, in Ash, whose ancestor Thomas Pincerna, or le Boteler, held that manor in king John's reign, whence his successors assumed the name of Butler, alias Boteler, or as they were frequently written Botiller, and bore for their arms, One or more covered cups, differently placed and blazoned. In this family the estate descended to John Boteler, who lived in the time of king Henry VI. and resided at Sandwich, of which town he was several times mayor, and one of the burgesses in two parliaments of that reign; he lies buried in St. Peter's church there. His son Richard, who was also of Sandwich, had a grant of arms in 1470, anno 11th Edward IV. by Thomas Holme, norroy, viz. Gyronny of six, argent and sable, a covered cup, or, between three talbots heads, erased and counterchanged of the field, collared, gules, garnished of the third. His great-grandson Henry Boteler rebuilt the mansion of Heronden, to which he removed in 1572, being the last of his family who resided at Sandwich. He had the above grant of arms confirmed to him, and died in 1580, being buried in Eastry church. Richard Boteler, of Heronden, his eldest son by his first wife, resided at this seat, and in 1589 obtained a grant from Robert Cook, clarencieux, of a new coat of arms, viz. Argent, on three escutcheons, sable, three convered cups, or. Ten years after which, intending as it should seem, to shew himself a descendant of the family of this name, seated at Graveney, but then extinct, he obtained in 1599 a grant of their arms from William Dethic, garter, and William Camden, clarencieux, to him and his brother William, viz. Quarterly, first and fourth, sable, three covered cups, or, within a bordure, argent; second and third, Argent, a fess, chequy, argent and gules, in chief three cross-croslets of the last, as appears (continues the grant) on a gravestone in Graveney church. He died in 1600, and was buried in Eastry church, leaving issue among other children Jonathan and Thomas. (fn. 7) Jonathan Boteler, the eldest son, of Hernden, died unmarried possessed of it in 1626, upon which it came to his next surviving brother Thomas Boteler, of Rowling, who upon that removed to Hernden, and soon afterwards alienated that part of it, since called THE MIDDLE FARM, to Mr. Henry Pannell, from whom soon afterwards, but how I know not, it came into the family of Reynolds; from which name it was about fifty years since alienated to John Dekewer, esq. of Hackney, who dying in 1762, devised it to his nephew John Dekewer, esq. of Hackney, the present possessor of it.
THIS PARISH is within the ECCLESIASTICAL JURISDICTION of the diocese of Canterbury, and deanry of Sandwich.
The church, which is exempted from the archdeacon, is dedicated to St. Mary; it is a large handsome building, consisting of a nave and two side isles, a chancel at the east end, remarkably long, and a square tower, which is very large, at the west end, in which are five very unmusical bells. The church is well kept and neatly paved, and exhibits a noble appearance, to which the many handsome monuments in it contribute much. The arch over the west door is circular, but no other parts of the church has any shew of great antiquity. In the chancel are monuments for the Paramors and the Fullers, of Statenborough, arms of the latter, Argent, three bars, and a canton, gules. A monument for several of the Bargrave family. An elegant pyramidial one, on which is a bust and emblematical sculpture for John Broadley, gent. many years surgeon at Dover, obt. 1784. Several gravestones, with brasses, for the Nevinsons. A gravestone for Joshua Paramour, gent. buried 1650. Underneath this chancel are two vaults, for the families of Paramour and Bargrave. In the nave, a monument for Anne, daughter of Solomon Harvey, gent. of this parish, ob. 1751; arms, Argent, on a chevron, between three lions gambs, sable, armed gules, three crescents, or; another for William Dare, esq. late of Fenderland, in this parish, obt. 1770; arms, Gules, a chevron vaire, between three crescents, argent, impaling argent, on a cross, sable, four lions passant, quardant of the field, for Read.—Against the wall an inscription in Latin, for the Drue Astley Cressemer, A. M. forty-eight years vicar of this parish, obt. 1746; he presented the communion plate to this church and Worth, and left a sum of money to be laid out in ornamenting this church, at which time the antient stalls, which were in the chancel, were taken away, and the chancel was ceiled, and the church otherwise beautified; arms, Argent, on a bend engrailed, sable, three cross-croslets, fitchee, or. A monument for several of the Botelers, of this parish; arms, Boteler, argent, on three escutcheons, sable, three covered cups, or, impaling Morrice. Against a pillar, a tablet and inscription, shewing that in a vault lieth Catherine, wife of John Springett, citizen and apothecary of London. He died in 1770; arms, Springett, per fess, argent and gules, a fess wavy, between three crescents, counterchanged, impaling Harvey. On the opposite pillar another, for the Rev. Richard Harvey, fourteen years vicar of this parish, obt. 1772. A monument for Richard Kelly, of Eastry, obt. 1768; arms, Two lions rampant, supporting a castle. Against the wall, an elegant sculptured monument, in alto relievo, for Sarah, wise of William Boteler, a daughter of Thomas Fuller, esq. late of Statenborough, obt. 1777, æt. 29; she died in childbed, leaving one son, William Fuller Boteler; arms at bottom, Boteler, as above, an escutcheon of pretence, Fuller, quartering Paramor. An elegant pyramidal marble and tablet for Robert Bargrave, of this parish, obt. 1779, for Elizabeth his wife, daughter of Sir Francis Leigh, of Hawley; and for Robert Bargrave, their only son, proctor in Doctors Commons, obt. 1774, whose sole surviving daughter Rebecca married James Wyborne, of Sholdon; arms, Bargrave, with a mullet, impaling Leigh. In the cross isle, near the chancel called the Boteler's isle, are several memorials for the Botelers. Adjoining to these, are three other gravestones, all of which have been inlaid, but the brasses are gone; they were for the same family, and on one of them was lately remaining the antient arms of Boteler, Girony of six pieces, &c. impaling ermine of three spots. Under the church are vaults, for the families of Springett, Harvey, Dare, and Bargrave. In the church-yard, on the north side of the church, are several altar tombs for the Paramors; and on the south side are several others for the Harveys, of this parish, and for Fawlkner, Rammell, and Fuller. There are also vaults for the families of Fuller, Rammell, and Petman.
There were formerly painted in the windows of this church, these arms, Girony of six, sable and argent, a covered cup, or, between three talbots heads, erased and counter changed of the field, collared, gules; for Boteler, of Heronden, impaling Boteler, of Graveny, Sable, three covered cups, or, within a bordure, argent; Boteler, of Heronden, as above, quartering three spots, ermine; the coat of Theobald, with quarterings. Several of the Frynnes, or as they were afterwards called, Friends, who lived at Waltham in this parish in king Henry VII.'s reign, lie buried in this church.
In the will of William Andrewe, of this parish, anno 1507, mention is made of our Ladie chapel, in the church-yard of the church of Estrie.
The eighteen stalls which were till lately in the chancel of the church, were for the use of the monks of the priory of Christ church, owners both of the manor and appropriation, when they came to pass any time at this place, as they frequently did, as well for a country retirement as to manage their concerns here; and for any other ecclesiastics, who might be present at divine service here, all such, in those times, sitting in the chancels of churches distinct from the laity.
The church of Eastry, with the chapels of Skrinkling and Worth annexed, was antiently appendant to the manor of Eastry, and was appropriated by archbishop Richard (successor to archbishop Becket) in the reign of king Henry II. to the almonry of the priory of Christ-church, but it did not continue long so, for archbishop Baldwin, (archbishop Richard's immediate successor), having quarrelled with the monks, on account of his intended college at Hackington, took this appropriation from them, and thus it remained as a rectory, at the archbishop's disposal, till the 39th year of king Edward III.'s reign, (fn. 10) when archbishop Simon Islip, with the king's licence, restored, united and annexed it again to the priory; but it appears, that in return for this grant, the archbishop had made over to him, by way of exchange, the advowsons of the churches of St. Dunstan, St. Pancrase, and All Saints in Bread-street, in London, all three belonging to the priory. After which, that is anno 8 Richard II. 1384, this church was valued among the revenues of the almonry of Christ-church, at the yearly value of 53l. 6s. 8d. and it continued afterwards in the same state in the possession of the monks, who managed it for the use of the almonry, during which time prior William Sellyng, who came to that office in Edward IV.'s reign, among other improvements on several estates belonging to his church, built a new dormitory at this parsonage for the monks resorting hither.
On the dissolution of the priory of Christ-church, in the 31st year of king Henry VIII.'s reign, this appropriation, with the advowson of the vicarage of the church of Eastry, was surrendered into the king's hands, where it staid but a small time, for he granted it in his 33d year, by his dotation charter, to his new founded dean and chapter of Canterbury, who are the present owners of this appropriation; but the advowson of the vicarage, notwithstanding it was granted with the appropriation, to the dean and chapter as above-mentioned, appears not long afterwards to have become parcel of the possessions of the see of Canterbury, where it continues at this time, his grace the archbishop being the present patron of it.
This parsonage is entitled to the great tithes of this parish and of Worth; there belong to it of glebe land in Eastry, Tilmanstone, and Worth, in all sixtynine acres.
THERE IS A SMALL MANOR belonging to it, called THE MANOR OF THE AMBRY, OR ALMONRY OF CHRIST-CHURCH, the quit-rents of which are very inconsiderable.
The parsonage-house is large and antient; in the old parlour window is a shield of arms, being those of Partheriche, impaling quarterly Line and Hamerton. The parsonage is of the annual rent of about 700l. The countess dowager of Guildford became entitled to the lease of this parsonage, by the will of her husband the earl of Guildford, and since her death the interest of it is become vested in her younger children.
As to the origin of a vicarage in this church, though there was one endowed in it by archbishop Peckham, in the 20th year of king Edward I. anno 1291, whilst this church continued in the archbishop's hands, yet I do not find that there was a vicar instituted in it, but that it remained as a rectory, till near three years after it had been restored to the priory of Christchurch, when, in the 42d year of king Edward III. a vicar was instituted in it, between whom and the prior and chapter of Canterbury, there was a composition concerning his portion, which he should have as an endowment of this vicarage; which composition was confirmed by archbishop Simon Langham that year; and next year there was an agreement entered into between the eleemosinary of Christ-church and the vicar, concerning the manse of this vicarage.
The vicarage of Eastry, with the chapel of Worth annexed, is valued in the king's books at 19l. 12s. 1d. and the yearly tenths at 1l. 19s. 2½d. In 1588 it was valued at sixty pounds. Communicants three hundred and thirty-five. In 1640 here were the like number of communicants, and it was valued at one hundred pounds.
The antient pension of 5l. 6s. 8d. formerly paid by the priory, is still paid to the vicar by the dean and chapter, and also an augmentation of 14l. 13s. 4d. yearly, by the lessee of the parsonage, by a convenant in his lease.
The vicarage-house is built close to the farm-yard of the parsonage; the land allotted to it is very trifling, not even sufficient for a tolerable garden; the foundations of the house are antient, and probably part of the original building when the vicarage was endowed in 1367.
¶There were two awards made in 1549 and 1550, on a controversy between the vicar of Eastry and the mayor, &c. of Sandwich, whether the scite of St. Bartholomew's hospital, near Sandwich, within that port and liberty, was subject to the payment of tithes to the vicar, as being within his parish. Both awards adjudged the legality of a payment, as due to the vicar; but the former award adjudged that the scite of the hospital was not, and the latter, that it was within the bounds of this parish. (fn. 12)
This picture is #53 in my 100 Strangers project.
Before visiting HK, I read an article about the city on wikitravel, to prepare myself for a weekend of being a tourist. My hopes of working on 100 Strangers were silently dashed upon reading the following:
"While Hong Kong has a generally good reputation when it comes to customer service, it is considered strange to strike up pleasantries with a stranger except when they are pregnant, disabled or senior citizens who are obviously in need. Saying 'good morning' to a person you don't know at a bus stop will probably be viewed with suspicion."
So much for running after strangers, tapping them on the shoulder and saying, "excuse me, may I take your photograph?" Or so I thought.
With an afternoon to kill, my friend and I went off in search of Wing Shing Photography (at the recommendation of Neil) and to find some strangers to photograph. Located in Mong Kok, near the Ladies' Market, we stumbled upon the store. While the store was interesting, what really surprised me was the sheer volume of people in the vicinity--excellent!
Standing at a cross-roads on a pedestrian walkway, I waited while throngs of people walked by in every possible direction. After only a few moments, I spotted San. His hat and glasses really caught my attention, so I chased after him.
He was with his wife and when I approached them, I thought he would say no. Luckily, his wife liked the idea and encouraged him to participate. Then as I explained more about the project, he seemed more intrigued by it. Finally, I got a "yes" out of him. From what I could tell, having the 100 Strangers card helped seal the deal… a lesson I put to good use the rest of the trip.
It turns out that San is a game and iPhone designer and a local from Hong Kong. He and his wife were just out for the afternoon taking a walk.
Thanks for participating in my project, San! I'll add a link to your site and send a copy of the photo when I find where I stashed your card.
San's website: www.taplay.com
San's wife's Flickr: www.flickr.com/photos/s___e/
San's Flickr: www.flickr.com/photos/san-studio/
Also, I finally remembered to shoot at f/2.0 for someone in glasses!
--
To find out more about the project, visit:
100 Strangers website, or the
You can also see the rest of my set here. Constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated!
We found out about this fascinating historic tour of YYC a bit by accident, but dashed out to see if we could still make it. We were ready for the weather, but just barely, and by the end, we were ready for a warm-up. I'll add little notes to images as I finish the set. Kenn Borek Air occupies one of 3 buildings built at YYC for Canada's WWII effort.
#janeswalkyyc
Kenn Borek Air has become world famous for extracting people from the South Pole in the middle of their winter - I believe they've done it twice now. Sadly, they also lost an airplane with all souls on board in Antarctica also...
This is the mansion at Bletchley Park. Also known as Bletchley Park Mansion.
It is Grade II listed.
Large house, now offices. 1860 altered and extended 1883-6 and c1906
for HS Leon. Red brick in Flemish bond with ashlar dressings; principal
gables half-timbered with pebble-dashed infill, some others tile-hung;
Welsh slate roof with red tile ridge; brick stacks, with clustered
flues, ribs and bands. Transomed wooden windows, principal windows with
leaded upper lights. Decorative wooden barge boards and finials to
gables. Large rambling house, of 2 storeys with partial attic.
Entrance elevation: 6 bays. Lavish ashlar detailing including
architraves. Entrance in bay 2 has internal, vaulted, porch protecting
panelled half-glazed double-door with side lights, traceried upper part
and fanlight the latter leaded and with coloured glass. Flanking porch
are hexagonal brick columns surmounted by panelled stone tops which
flank base of 4-light oriel window with decorative base. Projecting
from porch, and attached to it are 2 seated griffins on bracketed
plinths. Shaped pediment with elaborate finial. Gabled bay 1 has
projecting 2-storey canted bay with pretted eaves band and cornice below
swept, domed, metal roof. On its left is single-storey wooden
conservatory with traceried bays, formerly an open-sided loggia.
Paired, gabled, bays 2 and 3 have ashlar framed triple window to ground
floor with gableted butresses,and two canted bay windows over. Across
bay 4 is 3 bay embattled ashlar loggia fronting elaborate - panelled
double-door with canted bay window to right; inserted 1st floor window.
Bay 6 has polygonal 2-storey bay window with shaped pediments screening
finialed polygonal roof. Right return: 3 left-hand bays in same style
as front, the rest plainer; but attached to right end is dovecote-like
structure: octagonal, of 2 stages, having plinth; inserted ground-floor
windows; ashlar upper stage with 2-light windows below string; and plain
tile roof with gablets and finial. Rear: plainer having tradesmen's
entrance; complex roofline, one roof having louvre with finialed lead
cupola; and embattled tower with blue-brick decorative work and date
(former steep hipped roof removed). Left return: in style of front,
with ashlar canted and curved bay windows; paired, gabled, bays 2 and 3
decorative half-timbered 1st floor; shaped pediment to bay 4; and former
loggia (much altered) across right-hand bays. Interior: high quality,
elaborate, interiors survive, with panelling, panelled doors, decorative
fireplaces, and decorative plaster ceilings. Entrance vestibule: stone
columns and vaults. Entrance Hall: arcaded polished-stone screen wall
and panelled area beyond with elaborate 2-stage, columned, ashlar
fireplace surround and traceried panelling and painted glass to roof.
Room at right end: Jacobethan fireplace; coffered ceiling with floral-
decorated plaster panels. Stairhall: panelled; ground-floor arcade and
deep floral frieze; decorative coved, coffered, ceiling over stair;
fretted balustrade with carved surround and carved octagonal newels to
stair panelled stair well. Library : elaborate wooden jacobethan
inglenook with overmirror; fitted book cases and shelves; fluted frieze;
compartmental ceiling with decorative plaster panels. Ballroom :
linenfold panelling; wall recess flanked by clustered wooden columns
from which spring traceried arches; elaborate plaster work to frieze and
to coved, ribbed, ceiling which has pendant finials. Billiard room:
brattished panelling and cornice; columns support ceiling ribs; wooden
trusses. Additional fireplaces, panelling, and decorative doors,
plasterwork and cornices to 1st floor.
Bletchley Park House was the headquarters building of World War II
operational centre, in the grounds of which was the hut in which the
vital cracking of the Nazis' Enigma Code occurred. Churchill was one of
the important visitors to the house.
Bletchley Park House - Heritage Gateway
A copper dome on the left.
Moby Dick is my favorite American novel, and Melville inspires my landscape and seascape photography! “But as in landlessness alone resides the highest truth, shoreless, indefinite as God - so better is it to perish in that howling infinite, than be ingloriously dashed upon the lee, even if that were safety! For worm-like, then, oh! who would craven crawl to land!” ― Herman Melville, Moby Dick
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Ralph Waldo Emerson. The happiest man is he who learns from nature the lesson of worship.
Henry David Thoreau, Walden: Or, Life in the Woods: We need the tonic of wildness...At the same time that we are earnest to explore and learn all things, we require that all things be mysterious and unexplorable, that land and sea be indefinitely wild, unsurveyed and unfathomed by us because unfathomable. We can never have enough of nature.
Rain. Fed up with it!
It does make very pretty droplets on flowers though and during a lull in the showers I dashed out and caught this droplet sliding off the petal of some flowers.
The reason for today's visit. Was at the crash gate when I saw a view was on so dashed round to stand on the car again. Glad I did as hadn't departed to Madrid 2 hours after it was planned. Con 6033
Sailors' graveyard, St Mary, Shotley, Suffolk
The Shotley Peninsula runs like a flame, or a tongue, between the Rivers Stour and Orwell as they sprawl lazily towards the sea. At Shotley Point, the two rivers meet before emptying into the grey North Sea, the great industrial expanse of Felixstowe Docks on the north bank dominating the scene, while prettier Harwich to the south busies itself looking purposeful. In summer, you can stand all day at Shotley Point watching. There is always something to see: the vast container ships bringing Chinese televisions and Vietnamese shoes, the ferries with their cargoes of sleepy Dutch and German motorists, small Arthur Ransomesque yachts speeding out of the Orwell with its marinas, a wherry of London bankers sipping Pimms in the sunshine, wondering where their next bonus is coming from...
In winter this is a wild place, the gales from the great German Ocean flattening the hedgerows, the windows of the Bristol Arms rattling in the gusts along the empty streets, the ghosts of HMS Ganges, the Royal Navy Training College, silent now above the mudflats when the tide is out. But this was once a busy place, full of the chatter of young sailors, and during the First World War it was a famous place. Today it has lost its way: it is still one of Suffolk's biggest villages, but its remoteness ill-serves the housing estates which sprawl back towards Erwarton and Chelmondiston. Shotley is a strange place.
The setting of this church is also most curious. It is further from the village it serves than any other Suffolk church. Erwarton parish church is closer to Shotley village than Shotley church is. St Mary stands in a tiny, tightly-packed hamlet in the low hills towards Chelmondiston. In fact, this was the original village. The place we now call Shotley was once an outlying fishing hamlet, Shotley Gate. You reach St Mary along one of two narrow lanes.
The stubby tower of the church hugs a later raised clerestory, quite out of keeping with each other. If I come here on a hot Summer's day, and climb the steep hill leading up to it, I am always reminded more of the Dordogne than of East Anglia. The graveyard is set on a steep hillside, the huge cranes of Trimley Dock towering precipitously beyond the river below. This graveyard is one of the most haunting in East Anglia, filled with the graves of mostly teenage lads sent out by HMS Ganges to die in accidents and wars. Some of their bodies were brought back for burial, but most often these are mere memorials to young boys lost deep beneath fathoms of filthy, icy water. You think of their happy laughter: climbing onto the bus to go to the pictures in Ipswich, or courting a local girl along one of the narrow, poppy-lined lanes. It is heartbreaking, particularly if you are a parent.
Unusually for Suffolk, the south door opens almost onto the street. You step into the light of a wide-aisled nave. The pleasantly cool whitewashed interior seems much larger than is possible from the outside. But the eye is irresistably drawn to one of the most extraordinary chancel arches in Suffolk, a great dark wood casement surmounted by a set of arms, offset slightly in the east wall. Beyond, the effect is startling, and rather wonderful. In 1745, the year of the Jacobite Rising, the chancel here was rebuilt in the style of a Classical City of London church, a striking counterpoint to the ancient Gothic space to the west. The black and white marbled floor leads to curved, three-sided rails surrounding a sweet little holy table, the decalogue boards flanked by Moses and Aaron behind. White light pours through high windows. Such rational elegance! There could be no greater statement of the power of Protestant triumphalism at that troubled time.
Stepping back westwards, the nave suddenly lifts high above the space you have just left, and is crowned above the clerestories by a gorgeous late 15th Century hammerbeam roof. The arcades stride away westwards, a simple classical casement in the tower arch reflecting back the mood of the chancel. High above are the arms of George II, contemporary with the rebuilding, and so they probably once hung above the chancel arch. And what a statement they would have made. Charles Stuart's attempted coup d'état of 1745 was a romantic fancy, and had no real chance of succeeding, any more than his grandfather James II was ever likely to have held onto his throne more than half a century earlier.
And perhaps things would not have turned out well if it had succeeded. The power of the protestant London merchant classes, which had formerly backed Cromwell, had also guaranteed the success of the Dutch William of Orange's takeover of the English throne in 1688. That power was now deeply invested in the Hanovers. The Church of England, the regular Army and the Royal Navy, those three constant and essential arms of government, reacted to the uprising by forging a consensus which would be the key to the imagination of the people, a notion of identity which would at last reinvent and create the British as a Nation. Nothing would bend it from its path now, and it would reach its apotheosis on the fields of Flanders and the Somme. But that was all in the future.
Meanwhile, in the rural backwaters, the Catholic aristocracy was little shaken by the events of '45. Perhaps they stirred, and perhaps they read their newspapers with a frisson. But after all, they were only just awakening from the long years of penal silence. Although the Old Religion was still technically outlawed, they were no longer persecuted, and many had begun to retake their place in the national hierarchy. It was a compromise, but an ordered and easy one.
But what of ordinary Catholics in England, Scotland and, most of all, Ireland? What of their hopes? They had been dashed along with the throne of James II at the Battle of the Boyne, and were now trampled with the troops of Charles Stuart into the blood-soaked fields of Culloden. No one had expected the Jacobites to succeed, but the fury with which the rebellion was put down had been startling. Those hopes would turn to a hurt, and it would echo uncomfortably for the emerging British State down the next two and a half centuries.
I was watching the deer through the car window. Even though they were at the limit of my lens, I knew if I got out they would run. Suddenly they all dashed off, which I soon realised was due to a squall of rain - they were running for shelter! I have never seen animals do that.
“Sir! She’s sprung a leak!” The first mate dashed into the pirate Captain’s cabin, flushed and out of breath.
The Captain raised a scowling face. “Man the pumps then! You know what to do!”
“This is no ordinary leak, sir. She’s going fast!”
“Whad’ya mean, she’s goin’?” The Captain followed the words with a string of curses and then nearly bowled his mate over as he rushed topside. “All hands on deck! Man the pumps! Full force!” The next instant he was down in the hull with the mate beside him, pointing out the leak. The Captain’s face twisted in rage. “Who did that? That’s no leak. We’ve been scuttled! Who had the last watch?”
The mate shifted uneasily. Water poured in, soaking both men’s boots, but neither seemed to notice. At last he muttered, “Billy was at the tiller.”
“Billy?! That good for nothin’… Lazy – I’ll make him pay! Probably did it a purpose – wants us all ta drown!”
The mate was about to reply, but instead he ejaculated, “Good heavens! We’re sinking!” The words ended in a kind of scream. For the water was now rushing furiously in, threatening to sweep both off their feet.
“Shut your mouth!” the Captain spat, climbing topside again and ignoring his dripping garments.
At that moment the ship tilted violently, sending both men along with several other pirates into the scuttles. Billy fell too, slamming into the Captain.
“You! – You did this!” The Captain grabbed the unfortunate cabin boy by the neck.
Billy shuddered, turning terrified eyes to the Captain’s ferocious look.
“Well?! Answer me!”
With sudden boldness the boy spoke up. “I did do it.”
“Treason! Mutiny! You’ll pay for this!”
“Of course he will,” the mate grumbled. “We’re all goin’ to the bottom!”
“I’ll make sure Billy gets there first!” the Captain exclaimed, uttering a fearful oath.
Another lurch of the ship freed Billy from the Captain’s grasp for a second and he scrambled to his feet, desperately climbing toward the prow which was now pointing to the sky.
Cries and shouts resounded through the ship, which had now begun to sink in earnest. And yet for all their desperate plight, the pirates only quarreled and fought with each other, all eager to prolong their miserable lives by as many minutes as they could, even if it meant sending another to his death. The more reckless dove into the rum supply, determined to drown in drink for the last few minutes before they really drowned. Slowly the ship sank lower and lower, and now many of the pirates, forced to realize their plight, screamed in terror. Those who had sent so many to their deaths were unwilling to go themselves.
Above deck the Captain pulled himself aft by main force, practically tearing the boards, almost foaming at the mouth in his impotent rage. Billy clung to the bowsprit, unsure whether to face the Captain’s fury or spring overboard at once. He shuddered as he looked down into the water, and, opening his clasp knife, resolved to defend himself.
Ropes and bits of iron slid down the decks along with other miscellany. The Captain lost his hold – caught it again – and in desperation, pulled out his pistol.
Billy shuddered and tried to shrink into as small a target as possible.
The next instant a heavy sack smashed into the Captain’s legs and with a terrible cry he crashed headlong into the churning water.
And now the ship had almost completely sunk, and Billy was left alone. A sudden silence – an eerie silence – succeeded the fearful shouts. Billy climbed farther up the bowsprit until he was perched as high atop it as possible.
He had done it, and he thought his own life was a small price to pay for the blessing of ridding the sea of such a scourge. But other thoughts came to him in those moments that seemed like a life time as he straddled the rough timber, knife still in hand. After all, the quick, almost painless death to which he had sent his comrades seemed a poor repayment for their actions. They would have died, eventually, anyways – he had only hastened it by a year or two – and was that all? For all their villainy, for all their injustice, for having taken him, still a little child, and made him virtually their slave, dragging him through unspeakable horror? …hate surged through him, and he half cursed himself for taking such a poor and flavorless vengeance.
Then he thought of the deeds he himself had taken pleasure in doing, and loathed himself as heartily as any of his companions.
Was this all life had? Was there no real justice? The thought was intolerable to him. Far better to stand condemned, as he knew he would be, then to think that in the end, wrong would win.
But perhaps… perhaps… could mercy be found? Even for him?
The still, silent waters closed over the pirate ship, leaving no trace.
I enjoyed photographing some deer this last weekend on Raft Island in the Puget Sound. I was able to get this shot off before the deer dashed into to surrounding woods.
Nikkor 180mm f/2.8 ais
Friends in Melbourne recommended that I look for the interesting rock formations on the shore at Fairhaven. I arrived as the sun was setting and dashed onto the beach. I made a few handheld photos but the direct light had gone by the time I had set up my tripod and panoramic head. Undeterred I carried on making photos in the afterglow of dusk, of which this was the most succesful. In my haste, I managed to get shoes and trousers soaked by the incoming waves. However this was less of a worry than my tripod legs sinking further into the sand with each incoming wave. Incidentally, these cliffs were at Aireys Inlet near to Fairhaven so I never did find the rocks I had been recommended to seek out...
The Great Ocean Road, Australia trip 2016
Vedutismo panorama from 3 images. Nikon D700, 28mm MF lens.
Happy New Year everyone. Sorry it's slightly late... and I didn't even wish you Merry Christmas!
After being absolutely fed up with the weather over the Christmas I dashed down to Dartmoor on New Year's Day to photograph Rippon Tor. I needed a fix of rocks and light to keep me going. Typically, I got there and the pretty clouds overhead disappeared nearly as soon as the sun came up. Those clouds on the horizon in the picture were fleeting so I made the most of them.
News
If you see Country Walking magazine (Feb 13) turn to page 34 to see a nice double page spread of one of my pictures from the Lake District. There's also a smaller picture a couple of pages later.
I'm giving a talk to Sydenham Camera Club in Bridgwater on 13th February. I had an enjoyable evening giving a talk to Taunton Camera Club in November and it was good to see some familiar faces there. I've got a couple of further talks lined up later this year in Bradford Abbas and Kingswood. Full details at www.spraggonphotography.co.uk/about/.
Workshops
Soon I will be starting a programme of workshops in Somerset. As this is a new venture for me I will be offering some sessions in small groups of 2-3 for free. If anyone is interested in finding out more or would like to know when I announce the details please email me: steve@spraggonphotography.co.uk
Thanks for all your comments in 2012. I hope 2013 is going to be a good year.
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SEX, PHYSICS
and
the EVOLUTION of MAN
by Michael Toke
@ MILK GLASS Co.
1247 Dundas Street West
June 21 - July 15
opening June 21, 7pm
SEX, PHYSICS and the EVOLUTION of MAN
I remember when I was a kid I went around "the townhouses" asking all the housewives if I could have the cardboard their new pantyhose were wrapped around; hot pressed and glossy on one side, dead flat on the other, rounded corners and perfect for drawing in this skipping dashed way with the new black marker I had discovered. These new EVOLUTION of MAN drawings remind me of the joy I had drawing when I was young and the hopeful wide eyed vision I had for the world and Canada. Canada a beacon of light and progress guiding the world into the future was written on my face. I don't see that look anymore or better to say I see people trying to keep an idea of that face, but glimpsed underneath I see contortions and ticks at the way the world is; an exasperated wince quickly covered up as if to reel in an escaping beast of disillusionment and disbelief.
These new drawings are on a painted fresco like surface, dead flat, skipped and dashed with archival ink they are meant to be studies for an envisioned visage of what we hide underneath our beautiful ones.
The EVOLUTION OF MAN series is accompanied by works from the 2001 "Visions of Photonic Love" exhibition and other related works about the emergence of light at the beginning of the universe and its connection with the orgasm. These works arose from interviewed discussions with physicist Dr. Howard K. C. Yee at the University of Toronto and the subsequent video "notes on a nameless film".
"an attempt to describe the indescribable boundary between the known and unknown universe through interview and visual obliteration; at certain levels of complexity all visualization degrades into mathematics" was written on the DVD sleeve.
This video was awarded "One of the Best Filmmakers Under 25 in Canada Award" which came with a $2500 prize and a trip to Ottawa to meet with the Governor General and Minister of Arts and Culture with 10 other so awarded filmmakers. It was to theirs and my great disappointment to inform them that I was 37 at the time. The exhibition that was derived from this video was originally showed at Edward Day Gallery and then expanded for the Scope Art Fair in New York. Only 4 of these black works remain from the original exhibitions with some studies, other related works and the instigating videos they form a lovely stage backdrop of lust wandering for meaning, reason and purpose in the universe. They were originally accompanied with the phrase:
"Out of the blackness emerged joyous information to wet our lips; but in cruelty its beauty only left us wanting for more as its image slowly faded away."
I believe to approach hard strange and elusive ideas you must use peripheral vision and Newtonian half measures; random cultivation is the path to expression and enlightenment.
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Blossom on a Franklinia (Franklinia alatamaha) tree at Whitesbog. Just around the corner, another blooming Franklinia tree near a house with several hummingbird feeders was attended by over ten hummers, who dashed about, chattered at each other, and nectared at both the tree and the feeders.
Franklinia has the distinction of having become extinct in the wild after it was discovered by the Bartrams in what is now Georgia in 1765. It only survives as a cultivated tree, and all current specimens descend from the Bartrams' samples. It was named after Ben Franklin.
Just dashed up the hill to grab the first photo with my new 10-22mm. A 12 minute stare at one of the bridestones.
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Moby Dick is my favorite American novel, and Melville inspires my landscape and seascape photography! “But as in landlessness alone resides the highest truth, shoreless, indefinite as God - so better is it to perish in that howling infinite, than be ingloriously dashed upon the lee, even if that were safety! For worm-like, then, oh! who would craven crawl to land!” ― Herman Melville, Moby Dick
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Ralph Waldo Emerson. The happiest man is he who learns from nature the lesson of worship.
Henry David Thoreau, Walden: Or, Life in the Woods: We need the tonic of wildness...At the same time that we are earnest to explore and learn all things, we require that all things be mysterious and unexplorable, that land and sea be indefinitely wild, unsurveyed and unfathomed by us because unfathomable. We can never have enough of nature.
Abbotsford,British Columbia, Canada
I had seen a pair of Killdeer in the area and had some suspicion that there must be a next close by. When the Killdeer suddenly dashed out right in front of me, immediately wanting to distract me with its shrill cry and “broken wing” display, I thought I would pause and look... and sure enough - right on the edge of the unpaved road, I spotted these four lovely eggs... - it seems a tad reckless for this pair to put a nest so close to the road... one errant step or a car driving to close to the edge, would immediately endanger these eggs... Lets hope they make it through to a successful brood. I didn’t linger long - the poor bird was clearly distressed and ran in front of me for quite a distance.
This red deer stag is shown letting out some half-hearted bellows as we near the rut. The other stags and hinds in the area just carried on eating and sleeping. But soon it will get more interesting!!! Unfortunately, this guy is going to find out that there are some big stags around so his desires will be dashed!
Edited Hubble Space Telescope image (with annotation by NASA) of the galaxy Bedin I (a dwarf galaxy highlighted by dashed lines) seen behind a much closer globular cluster. Color/processing variant.
Original caption: The universe is very cluttered. Myriad island cities of stars, the galaxies, form a backdrop tapestry. Much closer to home are nebulae, star clusters, and assorted other foreground celestial objects that are mostly within our Milky Way galaxy. Despite the vastness of space, objects tend to get in front of each other.This happened when astronomers used the Hubble Space Telescope to photograph the globular star cluster NGC 6752 (located 13,000 light-years away in our Milky Way's halo). In a celestial game of "Where's Waldo?", Hubble's sharp vision uncovered a never-before-seen dwarf galaxy located far behind the cluster's crowded stellar population. The loner galaxy is in our own cosmic backyard, only 30 million light-years away (approximately 2,300 times farther than the foreground cluster).The object is classified as a dwarf spheroidal galaxy because it measures only around 3,000 light-years at its greatest extent (barely 1/30th the diameter of the Milky Way), and it is roughly a thousand times dimmer than the Milky Way.Because of its 13-billion-year-old age, and its isolation - which resulted in hardly any interaction with other galaxies - the dwarf is the astronomical equivalent of a living fossil from the early universe.
This was taken at a leather market in Marrakech. It was one of the few places I found during my time there that was free of tourists, and I can understand why. It was intense: men dashed around madly, sweat dripping from their chins, flailing dozens of animal hides around. Others flipped through their collection while those who looked on tried to shout louder than each other. The air was thick with dust and other particles that came off the hides as they were thrown about, and the smell was potent and disgusting. The best explanation I've found for what the smell could have been is that acid and urine are sometimes used in the process of tanning hides.
The hectic atmosphere made it impossible for me to get any photographs which show just how hectic the atmosphere was. As I stood in the middle of it all with the D700 and 14mm, I was pushed and shoved, and one boy put his hand over the lens and shouted at me. He was shooed away by a man who shouted at the boy in Arabic and then said to me "no problem! Journalist?" and then went back to his work. When a stern old man solemnly brought his hands towards each other in front of his chest and then pulled them away like a conductor silencing an orchestra at the end of a piece, I decided to give up on the wide angle lens and stood away a bit with the 50mm.
This man stopped in his tracks when he saw me, and looked at me like this for a few seconds, which feels like a very long time in those circumstances. I took this, lowered the camera and looked back at him. His face then broke into a big smile, and he walked on.
Marrakech, 2011.
He ran as soon as he saw the camera and I had to chase him in my wheelchair to get these two quick shots before he dashed across the street...
3D red/cyan anaglyph created from glass plate stereograph at Library of Congress - Prints & Photographs Online Catalog: www.loc.gov/pictures/
LOC Title: Harper's Ferry, West Virginia. Harper's Ferry Gap
Date: October 1862
Photographer: Silas A. Holmes (Abt 1819 -1886)
Link to glass plate: www.loc.gov/pictures/item/2018672019/
Notes: I've reworked my postings of this, from 5 years ago, to increase the depth and make repairs along the edges, to bring in all of the house and the railroad tracks at extreme left.
I realize now that my notion of where this photograph was taken has been all wrong. With the canal at right and the looming cliffs above it, I had assumed this was shot facing West, towards Harpers Ferry, from the Maryland side of the river, adjacent to the C&O Canal and Maryland Heights. When I tried to pin point the exact spot on Google Earth, the railroad tracks were on the wrong side of the canal, and the background (the Gap) didn't match up at all. Somehow, it had escaped my attention that the entire town was missing above the Armory ruins.
With the help of 3D Google Earth, I eventually got the scene to match up by facing East, from the WV side, at a point just up the Potomac River from where the Armory stood. Maryland Heights is the ridge coming in from the left, and the canal at right is not the C&O Canal, but rather the Armory Canal that supplied the water that powered the Armory machinery. So this turns out to be a very rare Civil War era close-up view of the Armory Canal; I've not seen any others like it, from this period of the 1860's.
Just to confirm the location, I contacted an author who had written extensively about Harper Ferry and the trails in the surrounding area, and he confirmed this location next to the Armory Canal. He also informed me that the section of the Armory ruins that you see in the distance was the Rolling Mill and that the railroad tracks at left were relocated to the other side of the Armory canal in 1892, where the main line now runs. The house you see at right (in the other 2 crops) he tells me is gone.
The Armory was set on fire by Union troops, just as they evacuated the town on the night of April 19th, 1861. Below, are a few extracts from newspapers describing the burning of the armory and the ruins - from the Library of Congress digital newspaper collection:
---------
New York Herald, Saturday, April 20, 1861.
“The United States Armory at Harper’s Ferry Destroyed. General Scott has just received a telegraphic dispatch from Captain Kingsbury, stating that he had burned the Armory buildings, the troops having evacuated and marched into Maryland. There were 15,000 stand of arms in the Armory, which were all destroyed. There was a large force from Virginia on their way to seize the Armory, in order to get possession of the arms. This will be a sad disappointment to the Virginia troops who confidently expected to get possession of these arms….
….Lieut. Jones is now at the Carlisle barracks. He states that, hearing yesterday that 600 Virginians were approaching by the Winchester Road to seize the arsenal, they put piles of powder in straw in all the buildings, and waited quietly the approach of the picket guard, who gave the alarm, and the Garrison set on fire the outhouses, carpenter shop and powder fuses, and then began to retreat. The citizens of Harper’s Ferry, who were evidently in league with the party advancing to seize the arsenal, were instantly in arms. They pursued, fired and killed two regulars--two others deserted before the troops reached Hagerstown. They marched all night, missed the railroad train in Hagerstown, and took omnibuses to Chambersburg to-day. They are much exhausted by the night march….
Lieut. Jones, who has arrived from Harper’s Ferry, is the son of the late Adjutant General Jones, of the United States Army. He says as the Federal troops rushed across the Potomac bridge at Harper’s Ferry, the people rushed in the arsenal. He believes that large numbers perished by the explosion. Repeated explosions occurred, and he saw a light burning in the building for many miles….”
------------
Richmond Dispatch. Monday Morning…. April 22, 1861.
“Capture of Harpers Ferry Armory. The Commissioners sent on by the Governor to take position possession of Harpers Ferry, have returned. The people in the vicinity were opposed to the act. It is stated that after being addressed by the Commissioners, and after witnessing the conduct of the United States troops, they joined in the seizure with fervor. …. At 12 o’clock last night, the Horse troops from Fauquier, under Lieutenant Randolph and Captain T.R. Ashby, arrived at Harper’s Ferry, and demanded the surrender of the Arsenal. A parley was asked by the garrison, and in a few minutes flames were seen to burst from the buildings, they having been fired during the parley, by the garrison, which escaped across the river, leaving nothing but burning ruins behind them. The troops via the Manassas Road had not arrived. A train laid to blow up the work-shop failed, and as a consequence Virginia gets the machinery uninjured. A train was also laid to blow up the bridge, but in the haste of departure the retiring troops neglected to apply the match.”
---------
Alexandria Gazette And Virginia Advertiser, April 22, 1861.
“Harpers Ferry. Messrs Adams and Painter correspondents of the New York World and Philadelphia Inquirer, left this city yesterday afternoon for Harper’s Ferry for the purpose of ascertaining the true state of affairs there--at which place they arrived at 7 o’clock last evening: On the route thither large crowds were collected at all the depots and intense excitement seemed to prevail, though no one could assign the cause.
At Point of Rocks, on the Maryland side of the Potomac, the flag of the “Confederate States” had been hoisted, and the crowd were saluting it as the train dashed by. At a short distance, this side of the Harper’s Ferry Bridge, the train was stopped by a detachment of Virginia troops, and each car and passenger was critically examined; and the latter were informed that they could not stop at the Ferry, if such was their destination. The train was then allowed to pass slowly through the bridge between a file of troops, and permitted to halt at the Virginia end. Here a surprising sight met the eye. Batteries of cannon were placed on each side of the track, commanded by artillery men. The flag of Virginia was flying from the flagstaff, and the town was swarming with soldiers. The two armories, where the United States arms--some 12,000--we're stored, were masses of smouldering ruins….”
--------------
Red/Cyan (not red/blue) glasses of the proper density must be used to view 3D effect without ghosting. Anaglyph prepared using red cyan glasses from The Center For Civil War Photography / Civil War Trust.
An adventurous trader named Henry had here established a trading-post, the year before, but becoming disgusted with the Indians, who refused to barter with him, had abandoned it. Hunt, McLellan, and their little party, reached this spot on the eighth day of October, where they stopped to recruit their strength. Then they engaged Indians to look out for their horses, which they concluded to leave behind them, and built a number of canoes with which to commit themselves to the current of the river. They embarked, and, for a hundred miles found their progress easy, but all at once they saw to their dismay that[35] below them were dangerous falls and treacherous rapids. Their journey was blocked.
It was impossible to return to Henry’s Fork, where were their horses, and to go on meant the destruction of all their supplies. What was there to do? To the North was the Columbia River, but an unbroken wilderness lay between. They must cross it, trust to luck that game would come their way, and that their rifles would not miss it when found. There were but a few days’ provisions left, so it was decided to divide the party into four sections: the first, under Crooks, was to make its way up the river to Fort Henry; the second, under McLellan, was to continue down the Snake; while the third, under McKenzie, was to traverse the wilderness towards the Columbia. The fourth section was to remain for a time where it was. And it was further understood that any party which should come across assistance or supplies should return to the main body under Hunt, which would hold the present camp until their leader became convinced that all had failed in their efforts to reach their destination. Let us see how they fared.
McLellan continued his way down the rushing Snake with three companions, but, finding that it was almost impossible to make further progress, he deflected his line of march so as to follow the detachment under McKenzie. Their course was over a bare and arid country where there was no game and little water. Occasionally a jack-rabbit scampered between the clumps of sage brush, but no one seemed to have sufficient ability with the rifle in order to bring one[36] down. A lean coyote would now and again be seen, and often the weird wailing of one of these creatures would make night hideous. The jerked buffalo meat which they carried was soon exhausted and the adventurers began to suffer from the gnawing pains of hunger, but on they walked with grim and steadfast determination. Weary, footsore, and nearly exhausted, they finally came upon McKenzie and his five companions. These fortunately had food, which they gave to the gaunt trappers, who rested for a full day before they could go on.
McLellan was undaunted. Trained in a hundred combats with the savages of the West, and hardened by years of exposure, he saw no cause for despondency. Some of the trappers, however, gave way to despair. They were among the barren drifts and extinct craters of gigantic volcanoes, while, through the winding fissures of its canyoned walls, the furious torrent of the Snake River dashed, foamed, and roared beneath them. Like a snow-white ribbon it plunged onward upon its wild career, and, in the sobbing roar of its cataracts, some of the more weak-hearted fancied that they heard the voices of those departed, who called to them to follow where they had gone.
It grew cold. A fierce snow-storm came upon them. As the food supply was gone, a dozen beaver skins were cut into strips and roasted, but this provender only sustained life for a few days. At length the trappers became exhausted, and, crouching under the protecting ledge of a wall of rock, shivered before their fire, and gloomily looked forth upon the blinding[37] snow. All was sadness and despondency. Some contemplated death, which they thought to be inevitable, and even the lion-hearted McLellan lost that undaunted courage which had never before deserted him. Could it be that they were to die before they saw the roaring waters of the Columbia? Could it be that they were to perish before they reached the trader’s post upon the green-gray stretch of the Pacific Ocean?
Peering into the gloom from his rocky shelter, the keen eyes of McLellan suddenly perceived a buffalo, which, driven to the rocky wall by the desire to get away from the blinding snow, was crouching under the lee of a high bluff. What could be more fortunate? Taking note of the direction of the wind, the trapper left his hiding-place and crawled against it, until he came within thirty yards of the beast. Carefully he wormed his way behind a jutting ledge of rock and sand, then—taking a good sight—touched the trigger of his rifle, and the great lumbering brute fell dead. With a wild and hilarious cheer the old scout dashed to where he lay and cut joyful capers around him in the snow. “Hurray! Hurray!” he cried. “Now we will have enough food to last us for many days. Hurray! Hurray!”
Seizing upon the carcass of the beast, the old scout rolled him down the hill towards the cavern in which his own companions were shivering. With a wild yell he announced his triumph and this was answered by a hoarse cry from the half-famished trappers, who rushed upon the beast, and, but for the warning of[38] the old frontiersman, would have gorged themselves upon the raw flesh, so great was their hunger.
“Hold back, my friends,” cried he. “Wait but a moment and I will give you some cooked food. Restrain yourselves, for a few seconds, and I will see that you get enough to save your lives. Eat the raw flesh and you will all perish.”
It was difficult to hold back the starving trappers, but soon a fire was lighted, the choicest parts of the buffalo were broiled upon a ramrod, and the gaunt spectres were allowed a feast. This saved their lives. With renewed strength they again made their way towards the Columbia, and, meeting with an occasional buffalo which they had the good fortune to kill, at length reached the swirling river, where a band of roving red men supplied them with a number of canoes. They also secured sufficient jerked meat to last them until they should reach the coast, where the trading-post of Astoria had already been established. To that lucky shot of McLellan’s they owed their lives.
Hunt, meanwhile, had decided that the three parties had successfully made their way to the coast, so he had started for the Columbia. Crooks had reached Fort Henry, where he spent his time in trapping and in trading with the redskins. As for the trappers who had left for Astoria by sea, they had met with an adverse fate, for the savages had induced them to enter the mouth of a small river, when they reached the neighborhood of the trading-post, and here had surrounded and massacred all of the voyageurs, after the[39] vessel had been run aground. It took Hunt over a month to arrive at the coast. Crooks eventually followed. He met the other trappers after a separation of five months’ duration.
After frightful privations and suffering the four parties were now safe at Astoria; a trading-post which was to create a fortune for its founder, John Jacob Astor, a shrewd merchant of New York, who was a dealer in furs and peltries of wild animals. But there was still travelling to be done, for Hunt determined soon after his arrival to send a party overland, in order to notify Astor of the loss of the detachment which had come by sea.
Strange to relate, the lion-hearted McLellan announced that he intended to go back with this party to St. Louis. “For,” said he, “I have not been given a sufficient share of the profits of this company. I am entitled to more.” His friends begged him to remain and not again to plunge into the wilderness, where were dangers just as great as those from which he had escaped. But he was obstinate in his purpose. “To St. Louis I shall go,” said he, “and not all the redskins on the earth will stop me. I have been treated most unfairly.” Thus, on the twenty-second day of March, 1812, he turned his back upon Astoria, and set out upon the hazardous trip towards the East. The detachment was under the command of John Reed, clerk of the Fur Company, a man of undoubted courage and experience in frontier warfare.
There were seventeen in this particular expedition, all men of well tried courage and resource in wilderness[40] adventure. Ascending the Columbia in canoes, they reached the falls and were preparing to make the portage when a band of redskins surrounded them and began to shoot arrows at their ranks. The trappers crouched behind the protection of trees and boulders, and made a stand, sending many a humming bullet into the ranks of the savages, who suddenly ceased hostilities, and, holding up their hands in sign of peace, came towards the white men. Mingling with the travellers, the Indians offered to carry their luggage around the rapids.
“The redskins only want to steal all that we’ve got,” whispered McLellan to his men. “But we can let them carry the canoes around the falls. Then we can get the baggage over during the night, and, when morning dawns, we’ll be off before the varmints know what we’re up to.”
The redskins seemed to be well satisfied. They carried the canoes upon their broad shoulders, and, as night fell, retired to their village across the river, leaving a few upon the same side as the whites. McLellan waited until the moon rose; then waking the others, he told them to get their baggage around the falls as soon as they could. The trappers worked industriously, and just as day was breaking, they deposited the last sack of provisions at the head of the rapids. This had been done without waking the redskins, who were upon their side of the river.
But now was an uproar, for the savages across the stream learned what was going on, and, in a few moments, came swarming to the attack. A hundred[41] of them rushed upon the nervy band of trappers, crying out, “You no go on. You stay here. You no go away.”
Brandishing aloft an immense club, a red warrior rushed upon Reed and felled him to the ground. Another ran towards McLellan, who, with rifle in hand, stood watching the affray. As he approached, the trapper was ready, and, although the redskin attempted to throw a buffalo robe over his head in order to blind his vision as he made a thrust at him with his knife, the old scout was too wary a bird to be caught napping. Stepping quickly aside, he shot the savage dead. As the redskin rolled over, a noise sounded from behind, and, wheeling around, he was just in time to hit another Indian who was about to shoot him with a rifle. The trappers now rallied to the defense of their leader. The savage who had attacked Reed was dispatched just as he was about to brain the trapper with his tomahawk. The rifles of the men from Astoria spoke in unison, and terrified by the desperate courage of the rangers, the savages dropped back. McLellan urged his followers to the charge, and, with a wild yell, they rushed upon the redskins, who took to their heels, leaving many of their number prostrate upon the ground.
The unfortunate Reed had lost his dispatches to Astor, for he carried them in a bright, new, tin box which immediately attracted the attention of the Indians. They fancied that it must be of great value, because of the care which the leader took of it. But this put an end to the expedition. Reluctantly and[42] sadly the trappers returned to the trading-post, where the wounded recovered from their injuries received in the little skirmish with the red men.
Hunt was greatly disappointed. “Boys!” said he, “I must absolutely get my dispatches through to Saint Louis,—Indians or no Indians. Astor must know of the fate of his other division. I will start a second expedition in June and Robert Stuart will be its commander. He will take only four good men with him.”
McLellan announced that he would be a member of the party, and Crooks also declared that he would leave Astoria, because he had become dissatisfied with the method in which Hunt had treated him. They soon launched their canoes in the Columbia; began to paddle up the stream, and, before long, reached the mouth of the Walla-Walla, where they hid their frail craft, and started across country to the Snake River. Horses had been purchased from the red men, and with these they made good time, although again their food supply became exhausted so that they were forced to scrape the fur from beaver and buffalo skins and eat the hide in order to keep from starving. Fortunately game was now met with and this provender saved their lives.
At the place where they had last camped on Snake River they had buried a quantity of dried meat and other food, but when they arrived there they discovered that the redskins had found out its whereabouts, had dug it up, and had carried it away. It was growing cold, but they pressed forward with renewed[43] courage, and entered a country which was free from game, so that again they were threatened with the dangers of starvation. Besides this, it was the land of the Crow Indians, who were terrific thieves and who soon discovered the presence of the little band of trappers. The sharp eyes of McLellan—well used to watching game—were not long in discovering the presence of the Indians.
“Look out boys,” said he. “I notice some of the red varmints hovering near by and suspect that we will be attacked before long. Look to the priming of your rifles and have plenty of ammunition handy. Be on your guard!”
The trappers gave good heed to this warning and redoubled their guards around the camp at nightfall. It was well that they did so, for, on the very next day, a large band of red men rode up to their halting-place, all fully armed with spears and arrows.
“Ugh! Ugh!” said the spokesman. “Where are my white brothers going?”
McLellan answered for the trappers that they were upon a peaceful errand and would not molest the red men, if they in turn would do them no harm. As he spoke, the redskins looked carefully at the men of the frontier, and, seeing them well armed and ready for business, decided not to attack. But they travelled with them for six whole days, quietly stealing any little articles that they could find, and, on the evening of the sixth day, ran off all the horses of the trappers in a mad stampede. The white adventurers were in a desperate situation.
[44]
Stuart, the commander, now spoke vigorous words.
“We must cache everything which we cannot carry, and push on,” said he. “Let winter overtake us in this God-forsaken country and all is lost. On! On!”
As the men were busily engaged in digging a hole in which to bury the supplies, one of the trappers interrupted them.
“Two of those thieving Crows are watching us,” said he, “and they will dig everything up just as soon as we disappear.”
McLellan grew furious at this information.
“No thieving Crow will ever get anything of mine,” said he, “unless they get my scalp first. I’ll burn everything which we leave behind, and then let Mr. Redskin hustle for the white man’s food.”
“You’re right!” answered all. “Burn it we will!” Their stores were soon piled up into a heap and were consumed by the flames.
They now headed for the Mad River, where they built rafts, and floated them down these turbid waters, for several days. Then they again struck off across country towards the East, crossing a wide plateau to the base of the Rocky Mountains. They were in the land of the Blackfeet Indians, who were as hostile towards the whites as were the Crows, and who were as arrant thieves; but they kept on towards the high land, hoping thus to elude the red men. As they proceeded into the mountains, McLellan bitterly complained against their course and begged them to remain upon the plateau. “For,” said he, “I’ve already had enough mountain climbing to last me a lifetime,[45] and I’d rather be comfortably killed by the Indians than break my neck falling down a canyon. You boys would rather climb mountains than fight the redskins.”
To these remarks Stuart and his companions paid no attention, but kept on their way. McLellan was liked by all, and one trapper offered to give him a load of jerked meat to carry, instead of the traps.
“A hunter should be able to kill his own meat without carrying any,” said the old pioneer, who was now thoroughly angry. “Who wants to carry a whole horse-load of dried beef on his back? As for me, I’ll go no further with you. Fools! Good-by!” This burst of temper seemed to relieve his mind, and, starting down the mountain, he set out alone without once looking behind him. His companions kept on, and as they reached the top of the eminence, gazed over the plain, where a dark spot marked the form of the angered man of the frontier.
“Boys,” said Stuart. “There goes the last of the old pioneers of the Kentucky border. You will never see him or his like again.”
As he said this, the eyes of many of his companions filled with tears.
Events were not to go smoothly with either McLellan or Stuart, for the former lost his way; became so weak from lack of food that he was unable to go further; and wandered aimlessly about. The latter also suffered terribly from hunger, but kept on, hoping to meet with game at every mile. His men were footsore and dejected, for they entered upon a barren[46] region where there was no game, and where even the coyotes seemed to have disappeared. They became desperate, and determined to throw themselves upon the mercy of the malicious Blackfeet, should they come across them.
With this end in view, the voyageurs kept a sharp lookout for Indian fires, hoping to gain food and assistance from the red men. Suddenly, in the far distance, they saw the twinkle of a little light and knew that some living being was near them. But it was late in the day. So they dispatched one of their number to see who it was, while the rest went into camp for the night. The messenger did not return.
Upon the day following, the exhausted plainsmen hastened in the direction of the fire which they had seen the evening before, and met their companion running towards them.
“Boys,” said he, “’Old Bob’ McLellan is lying by that fire in an absolutely exhausted condition. He is so weak that unless some stimulant is given him he will expire. Hurry and give him food from our meagre supply!”
This hastened the feet of the trappers, and reaching the place where the stubborn-minded old pioneer was lying, they discovered that he was in a desperate plight. A cup of hot coffee, however, soon revived him, so that he was able to struggle to his feet and join in their weary march. His rifle was carried by one of his companions.
The little party pressed on, luckily came across a “solitary,” or bull buffalo, which had been driven[47] from the herd because of old age and infirmity, and had the good fortune to kill it. Strengthened by this repast, they stumbled forward, and, by great good chance, came upon a band of Snake Indians, who fed them, gave them buckskin for moccasins, and, at their departure, not only presented them with a goodly quantity of jerked meat, but also with an old horse to carry it. Winter was coming on. Small flurries of snow announced the advent of the season, but they were now nearing the river Platte, where was an abundance of game. The old scout had recovered from his exhaustion and was once more the leader of these heroic plainsmen, who had twice been upon the verge of starvation. Their emaciated forms had filled out; their faces were sunburned and glowed with health; while their spirits and their strength was as of yore.
It was well into November when the party reached the river Platte, where were quantities of antelope and buffalo upon the grassy plains which rolled from either bank. They had a big hunt and collected sufficient buffalo meat to last through the winter. Then they built a hut of logs and plastered it with mud, determined to remain here until the warmth of spring made it possible for them to move further upon their long journey to the settlements. The days passed pleasantly, but one morning they were awakened by the wild screeching of a band of savages, and rushing to the doorway of their cabin, found that they were surrounded by fully a hundred painted braves.
“Well,” said McLellan, “I—for one—am all[48] ready for a brush with the redskins, whom I hate as much as I do old Lisa: the dastardly Spanish trickster. So, my fine fellows, look to your rifles and we’ll have a little picnic.”
“Not so fast,” Stuart interrupted. “I believe that these fellows are peaceably disposed towards us.” And—so saying—he stepped forth from the door, rifle in one hand, the other extended towards the Indians. Several of them came forward, shook his hand with heartiness, and intimated that they wished to have peace and not warfare. One of the chiefs could speak good English.
“We are on the war-path,” said he. “We are Cheyennes and our enemies are the Crows, who have raided one of our villages, have stolen many ponies and much dried meat. They shall be punished.”
This was cheerful news.
“Well,” murmured Stuart, “here we are between two fires. On one side are the Cheyennes, on the other are the Crows. As they are both upon the war-path, we are in continual danger from each of them. If a war party is defeated, it will doubtless wreak vengeance upon us when returning from the fray. The only thing for us to do is to take our chances and move towards the East.”
The situation was presented to the rest of the trappers, all of whom were of the opinion that they should decamp. Winter was upon them and snow was deep upon the ground, but, if they would save their lives, they must leave at once. The raw-boned old horse was loaded up, their packs were slung on their own[49] shoulders, and, upon the thirteenth day of December, the band of adventurers set off down the Platte. Snow-storms and bitter winds assailed them, but on they struggled until well beyond the range of the war-like savages. Here they built another hut, passed the winter in peace, and in March, 1813, started down the river in canoes which they had made from hollowed stumps of trees. After an uneventful trip, they finally reached the Missouri and were soon on their way to the frontier trading-post of St. Louis. Astor then learned what had happened to the adventurous souls who had attempted to reach his trading-post by sea.
The hazardous trip was over at last. “Old Bob” McLellan and his companions had crossed the wildest portion of an unexplored continent; had endured terrific hardship and exposure; but had brought home an accurate description of the virgin West to the hearing of many adventurous souls, who—thronging upon the border—were anxious and eager to press into the unknown prairie and mountain land. Two or three times the trappers had just escaped death by starvation. Twice they had barely missed a massacre by the redskins. Yet their courage and fortitude had carried them through every peril, and at last they were among their own kind, where appreciation of their nerve and valor was freely shown.
What of “Old Bob” McLellan, as he was affectionately called? Alas! The sinewy plainsman had been much broken by the hardships of this arduous journey to Astoria. Exposure and starvation had done its work upon the frame of the hardy man of[50] the frontier, and now he was unable to again venture into the unknown. Purchasing a stock of goods suitable for a trader, he opened a country store at Cape Girardeau, near St. Louis, but the angel of death even then hovered over the soul of the stalwart man of the plains. In a few months he quietly passed into the great beyond.
Thus peacefully ended the career of one of the last of the valorous scouts and pioneers who had forced back the savage hordes from the Alleghanies to the Mississippi, and who, even as old age advanced, had plunged into an unexplored and unpeopled country, to risk both life and limb among savage men and beasts. Red ran the blood in the veins of this vigorous Kentuckian, and he is to be remembered as a good type of the venturesome pioneers who explored and opened to white civilization the vast and unknown regions of western America. The hazardous journey to Astoria quite equalled in danger that eventful pilgrimage of Lewis and Clark, the first white adventurers to cross the Rocky Mountains to the Pacific. Hats off to “Old Bob” McLellan.
— Famous Frontiersmen and Heroes of the Border: Their Adventurous Lives and Stirring Experiences in Pioneer Days By Charles Haven Ladd Johnston 1913
ill-037
I played hooky this afternoon from work because it was such a beautiful, warm and sunny day and we dashed up to San Francisco to take a "Bridge to Bridge" Bay cruise. The cruise started from Pier 43 1/2 on Fisherman's Wharf, out under the Golden Gate Bridge, past Angel Island and Alcatraz Island, under the Bay Bridge, out to near AT&T Ball Park, past the Ferry Building and back to the pier.
At the beginning of the cruise, we were able to watch the high tech Oracle Team USA catamaran run trials in the Bay; it's sleek and fast ! The 20 meter sail towers over everything in its wake. There will be many great vantage points along the edge of the Bay to watch the 2013 America's Cup race.
The Arctic char species complex, sensu stricto, represent a key component of the marine and freshwater ecosystems of the north. Chars are stressed by factors such as fisheries, climate change and pollutants. We are possibly altering char biodiversity without documenting it and understanding its relevance. Concerted pan-Arctic biodiversity assessments, sustained research, and coordinated monitoring of chars are required to outline the scope of diversity present and its significance, and the mechanisms responsible for maintaining it and documenting changes. This map displays the global distribution of Arctic char (Salvelinus alpinus) inclusive of all nominate subspecies and closely related 'species' considered to belong to this group in the narrow sense. Taxonomic forms, relationships, species diversity and ecological variation are confused and poorly known for this species complex; other char taxa overlap and extend this range (e.g., forms of Dolly Varden – S. malma). Uncertain distributional limits are indicated by dashed boundaries. Presumptive distribution boundaries of anadromous forms in marine waters are indicated in nearshore areas; anadromy is thought to be restricted to areas south of 75°N. Introduced populations in Europe are indicated in red.
For any form of publication, please include the link to this page:
This photo has been graciously provided to be used in the GRID-Arendal resources library by: Hugo Ahlenius, GRID-Arendal & CAFF
The waves were beginning to break over the rocks. He opened the door to take a last look at them, when two stalwart men dashed up and seized him.
“Let go, dar!” he cried, struggling to free himself.
“Run up, Cap, quick!” cried one of the men. “I’ll take care of this black imp!”
“Yer will, honey?” cried Lem, as he heard footsteps rapidly ascending the stairs. “I’m er bad niggah, dat’s er fac’!” and he made a desperate twist and freed himself from the man.
“I’ll cut your heart out, you black imp!” hissed the man, rushing upon him with a formidable knife upraised. Lem only uttered a growl as he caught the arm as it descended with the knife. In another moment the knife fell to the ground and the two men were on an equality.
“Youse am a bad man!” cried Lem, giving him two or three blows that stunned him into insensibility. “Guess dem sharks t’ink youse good ‘nuff ter eat,” said Lem, picking him up and tossing him into the sea.
----------------------------------
When I was a kid, and at least through my junior high school years, I wanted to become a lighthouse keeper when I grew up. Unfortunately, by that time most lighthouses had become automated. Also, I was not aware that fisticuffs and fusillades were so often called for in the Lighthouse Service.
Anyway, here we have Larry Lee, The Young Lighthouse Keeper by Captain Thomas H. Wilson in Pluck and Luck magazine No. 886, May 26, 1915.
This is one of at least two printings of Larry Lee, Young Lighthouse Keeper. The story previously appeared in Pluck and Luck No. 46 in 1899.
I have not been able to find scans of the earlier edition.
Quite a few nautical-themed stories attributed to Capt. Thos. H. Wilson appeared in Pluck and Luck over the years.
Approximately 1600 issues of Pluck and Luck magazine were published weekly or bi-weekly from January 1898 until March 1929. Additional information about these issues may be found at the Dime Novels Bibliography web site at DimeNovels.org:
Good Monday Morning,
After a couple of months of work, I'm baaaaaaaaaack.
In this, your pre-Christmas, edition, I bring you a retrospective of my favorites from October, November & December.
El Nino be damned; we hit the trails despite rain and wind.
Through puddles we splashed, past trees we dashed, a hummingbird encounter occurred.
Flying monkeys, their witch, a lion costume that itched, redwood trees so big they're absurd.
Will threw the ball, Thanks-given for all, I fixed the furnace to warm the cold nights.
We watched a parade, had fun making mazes, and twinkled with Boston's tree lights.
This poem is done, I'm all out of fun, it's time to get back to my desk.
Peace and love to you peeps, good eats and good sleeps, may the holidays get you some rest.
Mike
The commuter departed and I dashed across the tracks, just in time as it turned out because the Zephyr was on the way! Four units today to handle the heavy train.
Westmont IL / Cass Ave
AMTK w/b California Zephyr â Train 5
AMTK 822 P40DC (AMTK heritage)
AMTK 186 P42DC
AMTK 25 P42DC
AMTK 18 P42DC.
George Thomas Perkins by Miller & Rowell of Boston, Mass. A Harvard educated physician, Perkins joined the Union army as a hospital steward after his hopes for a coveted surgeon's commission were dashed. He joined the Twenty-second Massachusetts Infantry in 1861 and suffered a nearly mortal wound at Gaines' Mill on June 27, 1862. A gun shot struck him in the lower back as he rescued a wounded comrade. Two days later he and other injured soldiers fell into enemy hands while they lay at a makeshift hospital at nearby Savage's Station.
The Confederates released Perkins about a month later. He eventually recovered and returned to duty. After the Twenty-second mustered out of the service in 1864, Perkins served a stint as assistant surgeon in the Thirty-second Massachusetts Infantry. In January 1865 he became surgeon of the Twenty-sixth Massachusetts Infantry. He died in 1880.
Read his profile, which is part of the New York Times Disunion series.
I encourage you to use this image for educational purposes only. However, please ask for permission.
On Friday, February 7, 2014, high school and middle school students dashed into the icy Atlantic as part of Special Olympics Virginia’s largest fundraiser: The Polar Plunge and the Cool School Challenge.
“Raising one million dollars for the fourth year in a row is incredible,” said Rick Jeffrey, Special Olympics Virginia president. “More importantly, though, these funds will help us to build bigger, better, more inclusive communities across the state of Virginia.”
In addition to the money raised, they got to take the icy dip into the Atlantic, all while earning a Friday “pass” from school, earn community service credit, Costume contests – prizes for best dressed male and female, prizes for teacher or team sponsor, and freezing photos.
Photography - Craig McClure
14185
© 2014
ALL Rights reserved by City of Virginia Beach.
Contact photo[at]vbgov.com for permission to use. Commercial use not allowed.
The three notched discs and a drafting pen mounted on the spring-loaded base created different dash-line patterns for boundary, road, river, and other linear map symbols.
-W.Whitman
Haven't 10 second dashed in quite some time.
Add trespass for a self-portrait to that, as well.
.009/365
This is the mansion at Bletchley Park. Also known as Bletchley Park Mansion.
It is Grade II listed.
Large house, now offices. 1860 altered and extended 1883-6 and c1906
for HS Leon. Red brick in Flemish bond with ashlar dressings; principal
gables half-timbered with pebble-dashed infill, some others tile-hung;
Welsh slate roof with red tile ridge; brick stacks, with clustered
flues, ribs and bands. Transomed wooden windows, principal windows with
leaded upper lights. Decorative wooden barge boards and finials to
gables. Large rambling house, of 2 storeys with partial attic.
Entrance elevation: 6 bays. Lavish ashlar detailing including
architraves. Entrance in bay 2 has internal, vaulted, porch protecting
panelled half-glazed double-door with side lights, traceried upper part
and fanlight the latter leaded and with coloured glass. Flanking porch
are hexagonal brick columns surmounted by panelled stone tops which
flank base of 4-light oriel window with decorative base. Projecting
from porch, and attached to it are 2 seated griffins on bracketed
plinths. Shaped pediment with elaborate finial. Gabled bay 1 has
projecting 2-storey canted bay with pretted eaves band and cornice below
swept, domed, metal roof. On its left is single-storey wooden
conservatory with traceried bays, formerly an open-sided loggia.
Paired, gabled, bays 2 and 3 have ashlar framed triple window to ground
floor with gableted butresses,and two canted bay windows over. Across
bay 4 is 3 bay embattled ashlar loggia fronting elaborate - panelled
double-door with canted bay window to right; inserted 1st floor window.
Bay 6 has polygonal 2-storey bay window with shaped pediments screening
finialed polygonal roof. Right return: 3 left-hand bays in same style
as front, the rest plainer; but attached to right end is dovecote-like
structure: octagonal, of 2 stages, having plinth; inserted ground-floor
windows; ashlar upper stage with 2-light windows below string; and plain
tile roof with gablets and finial. Rear: plainer having tradesmen's
entrance; complex roofline, one roof having louvre with finialed lead
cupola; and embattled tower with blue-brick decorative work and date
(former steep hipped roof removed). Left return: in style of front,
with ashlar canted and curved bay windows; paired, gabled, bays 2 and 3
decorative half-timbered 1st floor; shaped pediment to bay 4; and former
loggia (much altered) across right-hand bays. Interior: high quality,
elaborate, interiors survive, with panelling, panelled doors, decorative
fireplaces, and decorative plaster ceilings. Entrance vestibule: stone
columns and vaults. Entrance Hall: arcaded polished-stone screen wall
and panelled area beyond with elaborate 2-stage, columned, ashlar
fireplace surround and traceried panelling and painted glass to roof.
Room at right end: Jacobethan fireplace; coffered ceiling with floral-
decorated plaster panels. Stairhall: panelled; ground-floor arcade and
deep floral frieze; decorative coved, coffered, ceiling over stair;
fretted balustrade with carved surround and carved octagonal newels to
stair panelled stair well. Library : elaborate wooden jacobethan
inglenook with overmirror; fitted book cases and shelves; fluted frieze;
compartmental ceiling with decorative plaster panels. Ballroom :
linenfold panelling; wall recess flanked by clustered wooden columns
from which spring traceried arches; elaborate plaster work to frieze and
to coved, ribbed, ceiling which has pendant finials. Billiard room:
brattished panelling and cornice; columns support ceiling ribs; wooden
trusses. Additional fireplaces, panelling, and decorative doors,
plasterwork and cornices to 1st floor.
Bletchley Park House was the headquarters building of World War II
operational centre, in the grounds of which was the hut in which the
vital cracking of the Nazis' Enigma Code occurred. Churchill was one of
the important visitors to the house.
Bletchley Park House - Heritage Gateway
A few things inside the house. It was mostly empty, large open rooms. These were the few things that took my interest inside.
A bust of Winston Churchill above a fireplace.
Having given myself the weekend off from working, I'm horrified how tired I still am for a Monday. Although I've managed to get quite a few things parked away today with some help from colleagues today which has really helped and given me a much needed shot in the arm.
Quick snap of the Ambition sign outside of our University on the way to the car whilst I dashed back for my dental appointment.... which they cancelled 20 minutes before I pulled into their car park!
Memorial - "Sacred to the memory of James Digby of Red Hall == and this parish esquire . A deputy lieutenant of this county who died August 7th 1811 aged 76 years
In this church are also deposited the remains of his parents James son of Kenelm Digby of North Luffenham in the county of Rutland esquire and Elizabeth his wife.
The youngest and only survivor of their numerous issue Henrietta Pauncefoot ++ as a tribute affectionate regard and grateful respect caused this monument to be erected"
James was the 2nd son of James Digby 1751 www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/8P56HJ & Elizabeth Warwick His elder brother who had inherited the North Luffenham estates & Digby House died unmarried after selling his inheritance to Gilbert Heathcote.
His younger brother George dsp 1797 has a memorial here www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/B41u2r
James m1 Mary Green dsp of Dowsby
He m2 1796 Katharine dsp 1836 www.flickr.com/gp/52219527@N00/87Q065 sole heiress of Rev Humphrey Hyde, vicar of Bourne & rector of Dowsby.
James was 60, Katherine was 23.
James was the last male of the North Luffenham branch and it was expected by law his estates would be inherited by his nephew John Digby Fowell of Blackhall & Diptford Devon, heir of his elder sister Mary. But by his will made shortly before his death James, contrary to the expectations of his nephew who had taken the name of Digby in anticipation, having left his widow comfortably off, he left his estates to his younger sister Henrietta Pauncefort d1822 ++ who in turn bequeathed them to her son Philip Pauncefort Duncomb.
There is evidence that James was a man of frugal habits, spending little, and the publication of his will prompted one newspaper to report that “the penurious manner in which he lived little accorded with the immense property he has left, which is supposed to be a little short of £200,000”
== Red Hall, on Katharine's death was leased to various tenants and even used as a private boarding school for young ladies until sold in 1860 to the Bourne and Essendine Railway Company for use as the station booking office and stationmaster’s house. When the railway closed in 1959, the hall became redundant but was in a poor state of repair. It was offered for sale at £1 but there were no takers and there was another attempt to pull it down after being condemned in several quarters as “a totally useless building”. In 1962, however, Bourne United Charities stepped in and acquired the freehold and over the next 10 years restored it. As a result, the Red Hall reopened in 1972 for public use and as offices for the BUC - Katharine's ghost is said to haunt it.) www.bourneunitedcharities.co.uk/red_hall.php - Abbey church of St Peter & St Paul Bourne Lincolnshire
The eyes and the ears tell me that these rabbits lead a tough life and are more wild animal than cute bunny. This rabbit did not see me on the bench until my shutter clicked. Then he looked right at me, swiveled his ears my way and when I clicked the shutter again, he dashed off.
yup was on a date the other night hee hee
we were both running late so when he showed up I stepped into black patent oxfords dashed down my sidewalk and climbed into his car. we arrived at the restaurant five minutes late for our reservation but they were wonderful and sat us right away. it was an elegant place with dimmed amber lighting. we had an enjoyable first two courses but I had to excuse myself before desert, needing the ladies room, only when I stood I couldn't go anywhere cuz I was stepping on my still untied laces. i'd forgotten all about them because we were having such a good time talking. so I quickly looped them up and excused myself. I don't make it a point to talk about bathrooms (usually) but this one was sparkly obsidian and as elegant as the rest of the place.
desert made the table the same time I returned and following that we headed to the cinema for the last showing. on the way back across the parking lot I could feel my laces coming undone but I ignored them as we were on our way home. at my place we didn't want the night to end just yet so I invited him in for a night cap and bribed him to snap this pic before he had to leave.
this is the time of the year when we all indulge in the annual ritual of wish making, wishes oftentimes quickly dashed or forgotten only to be repeated next year and the year after. and in previous years most of my wishes are about myself, my family and friends. sure there's that perennial world peace thing. but it's getting old. it seems more and more remote each passing year. do we even believe in that anymore? perhaps that's what happens when we become adults. we stop believing. anyways this year i decided to do something different. i think in these uncertain times there are probably many others who deserve our wishes a lot more than we do. there are the dislocated, dispossessed and disadvantaged. there are the lonely, confused and under-loved. and there are those who are especially challenged and misunderstood even by family and friends not because of what they do but who they are. there are so many needs i can wish all night and won't come anywhere close to covering them all. i know i have to think harder. be more realistic. not set my hopes on what others may or may do but what people can do for themselves. after much thinking i settled on this line from hamlet, to thine self be true, because in the end that's really all that matters. and interesting how this dovetail into what jesus said, thou shalt know the truth and the truth shalt set you free. so here's my new year wish. live truly and live freely everyone!