Chapter six

Narration

  

Here there lay in a bedroom as dull as an office building, an orange haired girl. Motionless and as still as stone, a shell, or a windless chime would be. Time past, minutes ticked away backwards on that digital clock resting on the slate toned desk. It was soon time for her to open her eyes.

The girl picked herself up with care. She looked down first at her fingers, her body, then let her fingers softly stream down her face. Trying to make sure she was alive and well.

“I’m not dead?” she softly uttered, as if to merely kiss the air she breathed. Her ribcage slowly falling with each exhale. Her thoughts then turned in a flash of horrific concern… what had happened to her guide of this messed up world? She sprung up in rapid sprits. Her heart pounding out of her chest. She then burst out of that dreary and flat bedroom, her thoughts clouded by concern.

 

Take heed, for thus it is not safe to remain still. Run like the wind child. Do you care for your life? What is this a shell? A shell of an empty home. One without life, character, color or sole. One such as this would lay a sad curse over ones frail heart.

 

The next room was similar to the previous in some ways. Its colors were matted and dull. All in tones of greys, white, matted silver, and dark slate. This place seemed to reflect the essence of a gloomy overcast day. Without the sparkling light dazzling through the windows. Without life.

Her steps weaved about the furniture like walls of a maze. It was reflective.

 

Relentless, she did not stop. Refusing to let anything to stop her till she found her friend. But still, she did this to no avail. Opening one door after another. One faded room into the next living room, kitchen, bathroom, study, mudroom, bedroom, and so on. Treading in circles. Like a little hamster going round and round on his little wheel, never once going anywhere.

 

Her rapped steps, pated to a halt on the hallow planks which made up the floor. Her face drooped. Even from the outside of that room the sensation that something was horridly wrong could be felt.

 

Hunched away in a corner was Jared, easily spotted due to his signature red hair. However, this usually sturdy person had his head buried in his knees.

 

Just sad characteristic haunted his external appearance, as if all was at a loss. A frustration, of a change twisting deep inside, one that could rip one in two. Trying his best to cope with the day’s works perhaps. In order to secure the life of his family, he must shatter others, and do things he never wishes to do for the sole pleasure of the crook who owned his body.

“Is something the matter?” Autumn asked now concerned sensing some dark could linger over this individual whom she knew only a little. She crouched down to sit beside him. Her fall eyes gleaming with tender care.

 

“No,” nothing I can say to you. It is best that you never know why I fight in defiance here.

 

Jared picked himself up and slid his hands in his pockets. He then took a few steps in a separate direction.

“You coming?” he spat out kind of forcefully, trying to brush aside his secrets, and dig deeper his grave. The struggle of decency, of what is right… or corrupting—of body, sprit, and mind.

 

Autumn hopped to reply, “Sure,” but mirrored on the inside she could not help herself but think, “Why does Jared seem so offset? It is not like him… what I at least know of him that is, to seem so downcast… ”

 

Hours they treaded without a word uttered between them. Even when the world became: mangled, lopsided, even upside down, neither soul dared to question it. The rooms seemed a reflection of the last, just this time the whole room was flipped upside-down. But as they passed through a plane wooden door, just as dull as the rest, aura of space around them raveled sensation. Being misled by hints of traces of what this stage used to be.

 

The planes swayed like the way a field if grass on a warm summers day. Color, beauty in the wholeness of its essence. Never ceased to blow one away in its vibrant and comforting embrace.

 

However sweet the airs taste was, this brought a looming sense of alarm between them.

For there in the midst of the towering trees stood tall and firm two chess pieces soaring high. A white and a black king placed parallel to one another. They crunched the plant and earth beneath their feet as they became magnetized by their majesty.

 

In a flinch, the earth quaked, shaking even the foundation of the trees by its roots. The bushes and brambles were tightly knit like a scarf all around them trembled, cling for dear life. The same went for the autumn trees with as much color as a vibrant quilt. The potent sent of fresh fogy due floated thickly through the chilled air. Like a painted sunset.

 

In an instant, the white king began to crumble to dust freckled in splashes of auburn. The two flinched to conceal their faces as to which the dust tied its dearest to bury them in a sand storm. As swiftly as the moment came, it vanished into the air they breathed. Now the peaceful silence became the newest king of this realm. But it would soon be for not.

Something poked its head way up above of the crown of the black king. She had a strange appearance. Her white tank with the vertical straps was laced in the front like a corset. Her arms were clothes with white sleeves, ending in with a point of a diamond. Over it she wore a light jacket clasped similarly to how a romans cape was. It had mid length sleeves and a stich pattern similar to an eye on either side of her black hood. Most of all, strands of black and bleached hair cast down in a braid over her left shoulder.

 

Jared knew immediately what they were currently up against. The next thing out of his mouth said all that they need to know, “The Illusionist.”

 

And to the looks of the surroundings she could mentally generate, she was most powerful one indeed. One with her strength could simulate, touch, taste, sight, and fluent conversation. But as we are well aware, that is not the only requirement of an Illusionist. To some agree of insanity is required to accompany it as well.

 

“The black king murdered the white king, but it will fall too.”

Autumn tugged on his white sleeve as seeing if any gesture he made could decode her twisted message. Her eyes welled up in alarm as she glanced yet again up at that strange girl.

 

“Are you the black king?” Autumn hesitated to ask. She thought that maybe because that is where this strange girl was sitting on top of her own game piece that made up this puzzle.

 

“Two are the black king, one is the white. But I am no king.”

“What even are you saying? This is all nonsense! Autumn, whatever you do, don’t you listen to her.”

 

“Really,” the silver eyes girl spoke out, grabbing there attention and eyes back up towards her. She laid down on her stomach in one of the dips in the king’s crown. She began twirling her finger around and around as she spoke herself made tale, “Sorry to disappoint, but I am not one to lie. What is truth? What is a lie? Maybe a falsehood based on facts? Does that mean if one does not know, it is a lie. I guess that is the case don’t you think? That is true”

 

“State your business. Who are you and what is your name? ,” Jared demanded rather bitterly. His nails dug into his palms as they awaited an answer.

 

“I am myself,” she smiled, “Besides, why would a name do you any good. Names are changeable, meaningless sometimes. Perhaps if I called you Pookie instead, it would not change who you are. All a name is a sound, not a person.”

“Well what if I cared to know what yours is.”

 

“Humn, nah,” she rubbed her thin finger across her chapped lips, “I am me, that is all you need to know. Now isn’t that delicious.”

 

“Why do you have to be so freakishly annoying?”

 

“That is what you and you alone perceive,” she giggled. “Opinions can be easily twisted, mangled.” Then she simply vanished. However in all reality, she hopped to the ground and padded her way throughout the twisting maze of rooms. But all Jared and Autumn could visualize was the dense forest they were in.

 

But as the strange girl drifted apart from them, so did the remains of her power and soon were returned face to face with reality. But what happened to that stranger you might ask? I shall thus continue her part during her aftermath. And there it was, a tormented heart. Twisted and cut in ways it never should. Pain one never ought to feel. Love that has to be concealed. You might think that otherwise

 

“Vivain… don’t you think you should stay in the Western Star headquarters, at least until spring. That old house has too many dents and holes. You hardily eat a thing. If you push yourself to hard you might as well end up dead.”

 

“Well I am going to die anyways. We are all dying since the day we were born. Bit by bit our shells age until they give out,” Vivian began messing around with her fingers as if crumbling a paper ball that wasn’t really there. Or maybe it was there, just to her alone? “My will is all need to live. Nothing more is necessary.”

 

Petra raveled her hair, twirling it around with her pointer finger. looked With a shadow cast upon her heart, looking down at her grey toned plaid skirt she clasped her gentle knees, “But I would hate it if you did go.” That’s the Vivian I know, rebellious as the wind itself. I only wish she did not seem to be slowly rotting away.

 

Vivian jumped over to Petra starring her down eye to eye, “How can you hate death? That isn’t even a thing, it’s more like an effect.”

 

“Because I’m going to miss…” Petra smiled faintly which soon faded to a sort of gloom. It is senseless asking her. She hardly ever listens. All she wants is to prove her strength of mind and will. It is impossible to take that from her.

“Vivian, may I please ask you a favor?”

 

“It depends what it is? Continue,” she flopped her chin on her fist. Petra with her kind violet eyes and said, “Could you watch my love for me. I want to know that they are at least alright for now?”

 

“Sure, though I still find your logic strange. So from grasping what you revealed to me was once your roes wilted you ended up in a coma. Then you were able to use your foresight and watched that individual grow up, taken advantage of, and then eventually die along with the decayed world?”

 

“Yes,” Petra nodded softly, drifting farther into the sadness of her past recollections, “I wish to prevent their fate at all cost.”

 

“And may I ask how you are going to do this? Besides you never even talked to them.”

 

“But I known them for more years than they have been alive you see. How could I not? I don’t know yet how or if I can alter history. I do not know what to do with our little wild card you see. It is because of that one person they are doomed to die.”

 

End chapter here.! :D

 

Who is she talking about? Who make up the kings, or are they just the nonsense of the Illusionist? And what is this cursed fate which they all must endure? As you see the plot is finally started to thicken. Only time will tell what will happen. >:3 (Vivian rubs her hands giving devious grin)

 

Next week we will be joining Katina on her quest in part 7? "Memories." I also will be posting an interview this week, so keep an eye out for that too.

Jaime and Katana will both remain in first person. I am being nice and will post Autmn’s will be switched to third person to reach a wide range of characters for this story that I otherwise couldn’t reach.

 

This image is made with Midjourney. When I tried to read the image back into Midjourney for use as character and style reference, it refused the image "due to image filters", meaning the nude elements in the picture do not pass Midjourney's standards on decency. This not only makes clear that Midjourney applies rigid, hopelessly outdated 19th, even 18th, century morals. But also that it applies double standards ("we output it for you, but we won't let you use it on our platform"). Not that I am so eager to output nudity, but it makes me wonder if I should look for another AI-platform. Any suggestions?

I'm sorry to be so serious at this festive time of year, but I believe the signs of the times we're living in call for sobriety. Please don't miss understand; my wish, my hope, the deepest desire of my heart is that we all have a wonderful life ahead of us this coming year. However, with all the wars and rumors of wars, earthquakes in diverse places, weather castastrophes, violence, lack of common decency and morality, greed, deceit and deception, and all other manner of evil which is becoming our daily fare, I truly wonder what lies ahead for us who live on this earth. But even though the darkness is growing blacker, I believe the light will again be seen by us, and that it will be brighter than ever. In his second epistle, Peter, the apostle of Jesus Christ, said some interesting things that pertain to these days we're living in. Here's what Peter had to say:

 

2Peter 3:1-18 My friends, this is the second letter I have written to you. I wrote both letters to you to help your honest minds remember something. I want you to remember the words that the holy prophets spoke in the past. And remember the command that our Lord and Savior gave us. He gave us that command through His apostles. It is important for you to understand what will happen in the last days.

 

People will laugh at you. They will live following the evil they want to do. They will say, "Jesus promised to come again. Where is he? Our fathers have died, but the world continues the way it has been since it was made." But these people don't want to remember what happened long ago. The heavens were there, and God made the earth from water and with water. All this happened by God's word. Then the world was flooded and destroyed with water.

 

And that same word of God is keeping the heavens and the earth that we have now. They are being kept to be destroyed by fire. They are kept for the day of judgment and the destruction of all people who are against God.

 

But don't forget this one thing, dear friends: To the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years is like a day. The Lord is not being slow in doing what he promised--the way some people understand slowness. But God is being patient with you. He doesn't want anyone to be lost. He wants everyone to change their ways and stop sinning.

 

But the day when the Lord comes again will surprise everyone like the coming of a thief. The sky will disappear with a loud noise. Everything in the sky will be destroyed with fire. And the earth and everything in it will be burned up. Everything will be destroyed in this way.

 

So what kind of people should you be? Your lives should be holy and devoted to God. You should be looking forward to the day of God, wanting more than anything else for it to come soon. When it comes, the heavens will be destroyed with fire, and everything in the heavens will melt with heat.

 

But God made a promise to us. And we are waiting for what he promised--a new heaven and a new earth. That will be the place where righteousness lives. Dear friends, we are waiting for this to happen. So try as hard as you can to be without sin and without fault. Try to be at peace with God.

 

Remember that we are saved because our Lord is patient. Our dear brother Paul told you that same thing when he wrote to you with the wisdom that God gave him. That's what he says in all his letters when he writes about these things. There are parts of his letters that are hard to understand, and some people give a wrong meaning to them. These people are ignorant and weak in faith. They also give wrong meanings to the other Scriptures. But they are destroying themselves by doing that.

 

Dear friends, you already know about this. So be careful. Don't let these evil people lead you away by the wrong they do. Be careful that you do not fall from your strong faith. But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Glory be to him, now and forever! Amen.

Belgian collectors card by Kwatta, Bois-d'Haine, no. C. 245. Photo: MGM. Gregory Peck in The Great Sinner (Robert Siodmak, 1949).

 

American actor Gregory Peck (1916-2003) was one of the most popular film stars from the 1940s to the 1960s. Peck received five nominations for Academy Award for Best Actor and won once – for his performance as Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird (1962). He almost always played courageous, nobly heroic good guys who saw injustice and fought it. Among his best known films are Spellbound (1945), The Yearling (1946), Gentleman's Agreement (1947), Roman Holiday (1953), The Guns of Navarone (1961), and Cape Fear (1962).

 

Eldred Gregory Peck was born in 1916 in La Jolla, California (now in San Diego). His parents were Bernice Mary (Ayres) and Gregory Pearl Peck, a chemist, and druggist in San Diego. His parents divorced when he was five years old. An only child, he was sent to live with his grandmother. He never felt he had a stable childhood. His fondest memories are of his grandmother taking him to the cinema every week and of his dog, which followed him everywhere. Peck's father encouraged him to take up medicine. He studied pre-med at UC-Berkeley and, while there, got bitten by the acting bug and decided to change the focus of his studies. He enrolled in the Neighborhood Playhouse in New York and debuted on Broadway after graduation. His debut was in Emlyn Williams' play 'The Morning Star' (1942). By 1943, he was in Hollywood, where he debuted in the RKO film Days of Glory (Jacques Tourneur, 1944). Stardom came with his next film, The Keys of the Kingdom (John M. Stahl, 1944), for which he was nominated for an Oscar. Tony Fontana at IMDb: "Peck's screen presence displayed the qualities for which he became well known. He was tall, rugged and heroic, with a basic decency that transcended his roles." He appeared opposite Ingrid Bergman in Alfred Hitchcock's Spellbound (1945) as an amnesia victim accused of murder. In The Yearling (Clarence Brown, 1946), he was again nominated for an Oscar and won the Golden Globe. He was especially effective in Westerns and appeared in such varied fare as David O. Selznick's critically blasted Duel in the Sun (King Vidor, 1946), the somewhat better received Yellow Sky (William A. Wellman, 1948), and the acclaimed The Gunfighter (Henry King, 1950). He was nominated again for the Academy Award for his roles in Gentleman's Agreement (Elia Kazan, 1947), which dealt with anti-Semitism, and Twelve O'Clock High (Henry King, 1949), a story of high-level stress in an Air Force bomber unit in World War II. In 1947, Peck, along with Dorothy McGuire, David O'Selznick, and Mel Ferrer, founded the La Jolla Playhouse, located in his hometown, and produced many of the classics there. Due to film commitments, he could not return to Broadway but whet his appetite for live theatre on occasion at the Playhouse, keeping it firmly established with a strong, reputable name over the years.

 

With a string of hits to his credit, Gregory Peck made the decision to only work in films that interested him. He continued to appear as the heroic, larger-than-life figures in such films as Captain Horatio Hornblower (Raoul Walsh, 1951) with Virginia Mayo, and Moby Dick (John Huston, 1956) with Richard Basehart. He worked with Audrey Hepburn in her debut film, Roman Holiday (William Wyler, 1953). While filming The Bravados (Henry King, 1958), he decided to become a cowboy in real life, so he purchased a vast working ranch near Santa Barbara, California - already stocked with 600 head of prize cattle. In the early 1960s, he gave a powerful performance as Captain Keith Mallory in The Guns of Navarone (J. Lee Thompson, 1961) opposite David Niven and Anthony Quinn. The film was one of the biggest box-office hits of that year. Peck finally won the Oscar, after four nominations, for his performance as lawyer Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird (Robert Mulligan, 1962). He also appeared in two darker films than he usually made, Cape Fear (J. Lee Thompson, 1962) opposite Robert Mitchum, and Captain Newman, M.D. (David Miller, 1963) with Tony Curtis, which dealt with the way people live. The financial failure of Cape Fear (1962) ended his company, Melville Productions. After making Arabesque (Stanley Donen, 1966) with Sophia Loren, Peck withdrew from acting for three years in order to concentrate on various humanitarian causes, including the American Cancer Society. In the early 1970s, he produced two films, The Trial of the Catonsville Nine (Gordon Davidson, 1972) and The Dove (Charles Jarrott, 1974), when his film career stalled. He made a comeback playing, somewhat woodenly, Ambassador Robert Thorn in the horror film The Omen (Richard Donner, 1976) with Lee Remick. After that, he returned to the bigger-than-life roles he was best known for, such as MacArthur (Joseph Sargent, 1977) and the infamous Nazi war criminal Dr. Josef Mengele in the huge hit The Boys from Brazil (Franklin J. Schaffner, 1978) with Laurence Olivier and James Mason. In the 1980s, he moved into television with the miniseries The Blue and the Gray (Andrew V. McLaglen, 1982) in which he played Abraham Lincoln, and The Scarlet and the Black (Jerry London, 1983) with Christopher Plummer and John Gielgud. In 1991, he appeared in the remake of his 1962 film, playing a different role, in Martin Scorsese's Cape Fear (1991). He was also cast as the progressive-thinking owner of a wire and cable business in Other People's Money (Norman Jewison, 1991), starring Danny DeVito. In 1967, Peck received the Academy's Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award. He was also been awarded the US Presidential Medal of Freedom. Always politically progressive, he was active in such causes as anti-war protests, workers' rights, and civil rights. In 2003, Peck's portrayal of Atticus Finch was named the greatest film hero of the past 100 years by the American Film Institute, only two weeks before his death. Atticus beat out Indiana Jones, who was placed second, and James Bond who came third. Gregory Peck died in 2003 in Los Angeles, California. He was 87. Peck was married twice. From 1942 till 1955, he was married to Greta Kukkonen. They had three children: Jonathan Peck (1944-1975), Stephen Peck (1946), and Carey Paul Peck (1949). His second wife was Veronique Passani, whom he met at the set of Roman Holliday. They married in 1955 and had two children: Tony Peck (1956) and Cecilia Peck (1958). The couple remained together till his death.

 

Sources: Tony Fontana (IMDb), and IMDb.

 

And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.

This image is made with Midjourney. When I tried to read the image back into Midjourney for use as character and style reference, it refused the image "due to image filters", meaning the nude elements in the picture do not pass Midjourney's standards on decency. This not only makes clear that Midjourney applies rigid, hopelessly outdated 19th, even 18th, century morals. But also that it applies double standards ("we output it for you, but we won't let you use it on our platform"). Not that I am so eager to output nudity, but it makes me wonder if I should look for another AI-platform. Any suggestions?

Its bright colors somehow diminish the squalor, but let's face it: this is just another vacant lot in-waiting. If the occupants had been allowed to stay, they might have been able to keep it viable as a future residence for another family.

 

Unfortunately for them - and for us - bean-counters and computer algorithms cannot compute common sense and human decency. So they had to go...to make a point.

Belgian postcard by Victoria Biscuits Chocolats, no. 16. Photo: M.G.M. Gene Kelly as D'Artagnan and Vincent Price as Richelieu in The Three Musketeers (George Sidney, 1948), based on the novel by Alexandre Dumas.

 

The Three Musketeers (George Sidney, 1948) is a classic Swashbuckler, starring Gene Kelly as D’Artagnan and Lana Turner as Milady De Winter. Other stars in the cast include Van Heflin, June Allyson, Gig Young, Angela Lansbury, and Vincent Price. It is one of the many, adaptations of the famous French book ‘Les trois mousquetaires’ by Alexandre Dumas père, and possibly the liveliest one, full of acrobatics, galloping horses, flapping cloaks, and sword fights with almost operatic intensity. Dumas’s story is followed quite faithfully, but the creative fantasy is in the theatrical way of depicting it.

 

As in the book: the story of The Three Musketeers (George Sidney, 1948) is set in 1625 in France. The young and inexperienced D'Artagnan (Gene Kelly) leaves his home village in Gascony to become a musketeer in Paris in the service of His Majesty King Louis XIII (Frank Morgan). In his pocket, he has the letter of recommendation from his father (silent film star Robert Warwick), a former musketeer and friend of the current captain of the musketeers, Treville (Reginald Owen). His father has taught him the art of fencing masterfully and gives him the good advice never to let himself be compromised with impunity. He is only too happy to follow this advice. Very soon, before he has even reached Paris, D'Artagnan gets into a confrontation with Rochefort (Ian Keith), Cardinal Richelieu's (Vincent Price) confidant, and his companion, the mysterious Lady de Winter (Lana Turner). At this first opportunity to preserve his honour in battle, he is unceremoniously struck down and robbed by Rochefort's henchmen, and his credentials are also taken from him. Once in Paris, he not only meets his new friends and comrades-in-arms Athos (Van Heflin), Porthos (Gig Young), and Aramis (Robert Coote), but also his landlord's niece, Constance Bonacieux (June Allyson), and falls in love. Many adventures and entanglements lie ahead and in the path of the brave hero D'Artagnan. Driven by his desire to become the king's musketeer and to prove himself in battle, he falls into the clutches of both the queen (Angela and the cardinal, experiences numerous dangerous situations and sometimes needs his new friends to get away at all. Nevertheless, he sets out to travel to England for the Queen's honour, to retrieve a jewellery box given away by the Queen's secret lover, Lord Buckingham (John Sutton), and to prevent Richelieu from plotting. To assist him, he is accompanied by Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, as well as his dull but loyal servant Planchet (Keenan Wynn). Shortly after D'Artagnan's return from England, Constance is kidnapped at the behest of Cardinal Richelieu. D'Artagnan makes a pass at Milady de Winter, discovers a delicate secret, and only just manages to save himself. Constance is freed and taken to safety in England, shortly after which war breaks out, and our four friends are drawn into it. They overhear a conspiratorial meeting between the Cardinal and Lady de Winter in an inn. The latter is to travel to England and kill Buckingham. Planchet also travels to England at D'Artagnan's behest to warn Buckingham. Lady de Winter is convicted and is to be executed. Constance is appointed her guardian. Milady de Winter, after a lengthy psychological duel, manages to take out Constance as well as a guard and Buckingham and then escapes. Athos and D'Artagnan, who wanted to help Constance, arrive too late; after Constance dies in D'Artagnan's arms, they themselves also have only escaped. Back in Paris, the four friends track down Lady de Winter, pronounce the death sentence on her, and have the prisoner executed. During their subsequent escape towards Spain, they are overpowered and arrested. Their fate seems to be sealed, but young D'Artagnan still has one trump card: the Countess's passport, personally sealed and signed by Cardinal Richelieu, with the note that everything the bearer of this letter undertakes will serve the good of the state. The king is not allowed to know the background of this letter - so Richelieu has to give in. Aramis receives permission to take up a clerical office. Porthos is allowed to marry richly, Athos gets his property back and D'Artagnan is to negotiate a peace offer with the enemy England on behalf of France.

 

This splashy 1948 MGM adaptation of The Three Musketeers was the third sound version and was also the first version in Technicolor. In 1947, a representative of the National Catholic Legion of Decency, an organisation that monitored the interests of the Church in motion pictures, objected to the characterisation of Cardinal Richelieu in the planned MGM adaptation of Dumas' story. In a letter to MGM producer Pandro S. Berman, the organisation stated its objection to the cardinal being portrayed as a "worldly and unscrupulous man" and urged the studio to remove the character from the film. Berman refused to remove the character from the film but promised he would use great caution in all sensitive matters pertaining to the story and in the film, Richelieu is never referred to as Cardinal Richelieu. Berman also indicated that Constance, the married mistress of D'Artagnan in the novel, would be unmarried in the film version. While early sound versions of Three Musketeers eliminated the deaths of Constance and Milady, this adaptation telescopes the novel's events to allow for these tragedies. According to AFI, screenwriter Robert Ardry was displeased with Sidney's irreverent approach to the Dumas story and objected to the spoof elements that were added to the film. A biography of Kelly noted that Belgian fencing champion Jean Heremans, who appears in the film as the cardinal's guard, taught Kelly how to fence. Kelly's biography also noted that during the filming of a bedroom scene, Kelly flung Turner onto a bed with such force that she fell to the ground and suffered a broken elbow. Hal Erickson at AllMovie: “True to form, MGM saw to it that Lana Turner, as Milady, was dressed to the nines and heavily bejeweled for her beheading sequence. Portions of the 1948 Three Musketeers, in black and white, showed up in the silent film-within-a-film in 1952's Singin' in the Rain, which of course also starred Gene Kelly.” The Three Musketeers opened to mostly favourable reviews, with several reviewers commenting on the film's unusual tongue-in-cheek approach. New York Times reviewer Bosley Crowther noted that "more glittering swordplay, more dazzling costumes, more colors or more of Miss Turner's chest have never been seen in a picture than are shown in this one." And added: “Completely fantastic, however, is Miss Turner as the villainess, the ambitious Lady de Winter who does the boudoir business for the boss. Loaded with blond hair and jewels, with twelve-gallon hats and ostrich plumes, and poured into her satin dresses with a good bit of Turner to spare, she walks through the palaces and salons with the air of a company-mannered Mae West.” In 1948, there was an Oscar nomination for Robert Planck in the category Best Cinematography/Colour. Hans J. Wollstein at AllMovie: “The Three Musketeers remains an outrageously entertaining yarn, the Southern California locales perfectly standing in for 17th Century France and England.” And finally, Yvette Banek at her blog In so many words: “Lana Turner is really quite superb in her evilness. So evil that she is even photographed without make-up. Well, as 'without make-up' as MGM got, at any rate. Even then, she is exquisitely beautiful - especially when praying.”

 

Sources: Bosley Crowther (New York Times), Hal Erickson (AllMovie), Yvette Banek (In so many words), AFI, Wikipedia (Dutch, German), and IMDb.

 

And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.

This is cricket. Proper cricket, as has been played in England for a thousand years. Proper cricket, chaps who borrow each others pads and bats, chaps who aren't necessarily very fit, maybe a bit overweight; but above all else chaps who just play the game with their mates for the sheer unadulterated pleasure of it. Long live its noble decency.

This image is copyright, all rights reserved, and not part of the public domain. Any use, linking to, or posting of this image is prohibited without my consent. If you want to use this image in any fashion, please have the common courtesy and decency to ask.

 

Elk Creek Falls, Siskiyou National Forest, Powers, Oregon

 

This is another view of this big waterfall where I had gotten down next to the creek to get this view. It was raining pretty good which added to the intense mist I was facing which made it difficult to come away with a mist free image. It was a fun fight and I came away with a couple of keepers.

 

Happy Waterfall Wednesday Everybody!

Wyrm lay stretched out on a fluffy looking bed. His legs were sprawled out, and his eyes were getting sleepy.

 

"WYRM! Have some decency!", Lorelei said as she reached the top of the stairs.

 

Wyrm laughed right out loud before sprawling himself out even farther.

What an amazing place this is. It used to be a thermal bath house. It was built in the 19th century and what beautifully decorated. It will soon be converted into a posh hotel.

When we entered early morning we were the first explorers setting up our gear. Within an hour the place was crowded with explorers from all over Europe and it was hard to take a decent picture.

Apparently it is hard for other people to wait until others who were there earlier are done. I gave them a hard time by just standing in 'their' way while taking a shot. Have some decency people and be patient!

 

Please visit www.preciousdecay.com for more pictures and follow me on Facebook on www.facebook.com/Preciousdecay.urbex

This morning I took an hour long train into the city, then rushed to my desk to draft up triplicate copies of a medical release. A brisk walk in the cold (it was lower than 20 degrees) to another train, then a longer walk through the snow on the north side to meet with a new client.

 

I typically represent large publicly traded multi-national companies, and design the compensation and benefit structures on behalf of these companies that affect literally millions of people. And I'm paid quite handsomely for the work. Far more, in fact, than I'm likely worth.

 

This morning was different though.

 

My client used to have a normal life, married - with two young sons. He developed late onset schizophrenia and his life slowly started unravelling. He's been homeless now for the better part of fifteen years. His ex-wife had him declared dead after he'd disappeared for over ten years and she was told he'd been beaten to death in a mugging.

 

He's alive. Though even that seems a bit of a stretch of things to say. His face bears the scars of multiple physical attacks. Part of his forehead is caved in from blunt force trauma. He shrugs, giving the explanation "a fight over a place to sleep."

 

A local agency is now paying for him to stay at a "hotel." The overwhelming majority of the hotel's guests rent rooms by the hour. Only a floor or two is for overnighters.

 

I met with a member of the agency in the lobby and we went up to his room. The hallway floors were bloodstained, the acrid stench of stale urine infiltrated the air - suffocating.

 

Inside his room, the mattress was bare and heavily stained. No pillows, no towels. A thick black sludge covered the bottom of the shower. Roaches crawled all over the walls and across the bed. A chili can with a tarnished spoon sat precariously on the ledge of the stripped bed. He had to eat it cold as there wasn't a way for him to heat it.

 

I'd laid my purse on the floor, and watched silently as a roach crawled inside it.

 

We talked briefly about what I was going to do in order to try to establish his identity. He honestly is so far gone that I'm not sure he'll remember who I am when I have to meet with him again next week.

 

His family has been contacted. His parents and siblings want nothing to do with him. They've effectively disowned him. Cast him aside. His oldest son visited with his ex-wife. It's definitely him - though a shell of a man that they used to know and love. They can't relate to him now. They don't know what to say. He doesn't remember them. He doesn't remember who he was "before" his given name and birthdate are figments of someone else's imagination.

 

He has brief moments of clarity - then it's all muddled again.

 

Everyone's forgotten him, it seems. It's easier to - it doesn't pain the soul as much as if they were faced with standing here with him instead of half a country away.

 

His name is George. And I know that for the rest of my life, I will never forget him. And I know that they haven't either. How could you? He was someone's son. Someone's husband, someone's father. He was a neighbor, a co-worker. He was a stranger passing on the street, and now he's invisible.

 

I am so lucky to have the life that I have. I need to do more to help other people, to somehow assuage this overwhelming guilt.

 

My life could've easily ended up like his did.

 

I cried on the train ride back to the office. I'm not the type that cries often, it's not my nature. Since I've been pregnant, things resonate so much stronger with me. I cried for George, for his neighbors in the hotel. But I also cried for my son, who I've not met yet. I cried - hoping that he would never have to know that want - that desperation. I think that was the hardest part for me. George is/was someone's son. Someone who knows where he is and just couldn't bear to deal with the truth, or worse - doesn't care.

 

I know we all struggle with daily inconveniences, but tonight - as you lay your head down to sleep. Please, be thankful. It could be so much worse.

As Nottingham's shops continue to close at an alarming rate, the face of the streets is changing dramatically, not always for the better. At least, on Bridlesmith Gate, they are trying to brighten things up a bit. Snapped with the Samsung Galaxy S21 5G phone cam and pushed, pulled and twisted about, way beyond the realms of common decency!

Hello my bunnies. Photo on the left - taken 5 years ago. The one on the right - taken five years later - today (when originally posted!) :D On 9th June 2020 I was dealing with a lot of things. The 'remote', brutal break up of my last relationship. The lockdowns. The insecurity of being a crossdresser and wondering what it all meant. However, I knew we would come out of the lockdowns eventually, but I would also end up with having to recover from my ex girlfriend finally ending things (though she said she might contact me a year later to see how we'd grown - or not) and I was feeling rather down and listless. I didn't want her to cut contact, but I also knew our ship had definitely sailed. I set out to become the person I had kind of been before the relationship had started, some 4 years earlier, but now, I wanted something else. I just was not sure what. First thing was - I wanted to formally change my name. In 2025, that's been achieved. But as for all the other things that happened - the relaunch of my channel on You Tube, THIS Flickr page, my dance lessons, skin diode laser sessions, my hair growing and being styled in a feminine way. A new job! And.....oh yes....HRT, and aligning my body with how I think and wish and do ultimately see myself, even if some parts of the world - on and offline, disagree. As I have grown on this journey, I have learned so much about myself. One thing that has shocked me a bit is how strong I have become - as I weakened a bit physically, I became mentally incredibly strong - and I say that as someone who always thought I had good mental strength. I value kindness, loyalty, support, decency and politeness. I strongly dislike liars, narcissists, people who have an inflated opinion of themselves, and increasingly, I take a harsh stance against anyone who does not value me in their lives, by removing myself from the situation. So you can probably guess that the ex did contact me again. I was polite, but disinterested in continuing contact with someone who had treated me badly, unfairly and was ultimately playing games. You do NOT do this to people. It is not a decent thing to do. So, you have my gratitude - back then for your support, and now. Much love and blessings to you all.

 

Nearly halfway through the month, and it's the weekend again, and the the good news is that the sore throat I had on Friday went and did not return.

 

Which is nice.

 

Jools's cough, however, which seemed like it was getting better, returned slightly on Friday evening, and would again on Saturday. We had tockets to see Public Service Bradcasting again, this time in Margate, but our hearts were not in it, if I'm honest, and in the end we decided not to go in light of her coughing, but also as I said, we saw them a month back, though this would be a different show.

 

And Norwich were on the tellybox, what could be better than watching that?

 

Anything, as it turned out.

 

But that was for later.

 

We went to Tesco, a little later than usual, as we had slept in rather, then back home for breakfast before the decision on what to do for the day. Jools decided to stay home to bead and read, I would go out.

 

There are three churches near to home that I feel I needed to revisit, St Margaret's itself I should be able to get the key from the village shop at any time, but St Mary in Dover hasn't been open the last few times I have been in town, and Barfrestone was closed most of the year due to vandalism.

 

But Saturday morning there is usually a coffee morning in St Mary, so I went down armed with camera and lenses to take more shots of the details, especially of the windows.

 

There was a small group with the Vicar, talking in one of the chapels, so I made busy getting my shots, just happy that the church was open. I left a fiver with the vicar, and walked back to the car, passing the old guy supping from a tin of cider sitting outside the church hall.

 

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In the heart of the town with a prominent twelfth-century tower. From the outside it is obvious that much work was carried out in the nineteenth century. The church has major connections with the Lord Wardens of the Cinque Ports and is much used for ceremonial services. The western bays of the nave with their low semi-circular arches are contemporary with the tower, while the pointed arches to the east are entirely nineteenth century. The scale and choice of stone is entirely wrong, although the carving is very well done. However the east end, with its tall narrow lancet windows, is not so successful. The Royal Arms, of the reign of William and Mary, are of carved and painted wood, with a French motto - Jay Maintendray - instead of the more usual Dieu et Mon Droit. The church was badly damaged in the Second World War, but one of the survivors was the typical Norman font of square Purbeck marble construction. One of the more recent additions to the church is the Herald of Free Enterprise memorial window of 1989 designed by Frederick Cole.

 

www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Dover+1

 

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THE TOWN AND PORT OF DOVER.

DOVER lies at the eastern extremity of Kent, adjoining to the sea, the great high London road towards France ending at it. It lies adjoining to the parish of Charlton last-described, eastward, in the lath of St. Augustine and eastern division of the county. It is within the liberty of the cinque ports, and the juristion of the corporation of the town and port of Dover.

 

DOVER, written in the Latin Itinerary of Antonine, Dubris. By the Saxons, Dorsa, and Dofris. By later historians, Doveria; and in the book of Domesday, Dovere; took its name most probably from the British words, Dufir, signifying water, or Dusirrha, high and steep, alluding to the cliffs adjoining to it. (fn. 1)

 

It is situated at the extremity of a wide and spacious valley, inclosed on each side by high and steep hills or cliffs, and making allowance for the sea's withdrawing itself from between them, answers well to the description given of it by Julius Cæfar in his Commentaries.

 

In the middle space, between this chain of high cliffs, in a break or opening, lies the town of Dover and its harbour, which latter, before the sea was shut out, so late as the Norman conquest, was situated much more within the land than it is at present, as will be further noticed hereafter.

 

ON THE SUMMIT of one of these cliffs, of sudden and stupendous height, close on the north side of the town and harbour, stands DOVER CASTLE, so famous and renowned in all the histories of former times. It is situated so exceeding high, that it is at most times plainly to be seen from the lowest lands on the coast of France, and as far beyond as the eye can discern. Its size, for it contains within it thirty five acres of ground, six of which are taken up by the antient buildings, gives it the appearance of a small city, having its citadel conspicuous in the midst of it, with extensive fortifications, around its walls. The hill, or rather rock, on which it stands, is ragged and steep towards the town and harbour; but towards the sea, it is a perpendicular precipice of a wonderful height, being more than three hundred and twenty feet high, from its basis on the shore.

 

Common tradition supposes, that Julius Cæfar was the builder of this castle, as well as others in this part of Britain, but surely without a probability of truth; for our brave countrymen found Cæfar sufficient employment of a far different sort, during his short stay in Britain, to give him any opportunity of erecting even this one fortress. Kilburne says, there was a tower here, called Cæsar's tower, afterwards the king's lodgings; but these, now called the king's keep, were built by king Henry II. as will be further mentioned hereafter; and he further says, there were to be seen here great pipes and casks bound with iron hoops, in which was liquor supposed to be wine, which by long lying had become as thick as treacle, and would cleave like birdlime; salt congealed together as hard as stone; cross and long bows and arrows, to which brass was fastened instead of feathers, and they were of such size, as not to be fit for the use of men of that or any late ages. These, Lambarde says, the inhabitants shewed as having belonged to Cæfar, and the wine and salt as part of the provision he had brought with him hither; and Camden relates, that he was shewn these arrows, which he thinks were such as the Romans used to shoot out of their engines, which were like to large crossbows. These last might, no doubt, though not Cæsar's, belong to the Romans of a later time; and the former might, perhaps, be part of the provisions and stores which king Henry VIII. laid in here, at a time when he passed from hence over sea to France. But for many years past it has not been known what is become of any of these things.

 

Others, averse to Cæsar's having built this castle, and yet willing to give the building of it to the empire of the Romans of a later time, suppose, and that perhaps with some probability, it was first erected by Arviragus, (or Arivog, as he is called on his coin) king of Britain, in the time of Claudius, the Roman emperor. (fn. 2)

 

That there was one built here, during the continuance of the Roman empire in Britain, must be supposed from the necessity of it, and the circumstances of those times; and the existence of one plainly appears, from the remains of the tower and other parts of the antient church within it, and the octagon tower at the west end, in which are quantities of Roman brick and tile. These towers are evidently the remains of Roman work, the former of much less antiquity than the latter, which may be well supposed to have been built as early as the emperor Claudius, whose expedition hither was about or immediately subsequent to the year of Christ 44. Of these towers, probably the latter was built for a speculum, or watch-tower, and was used, not only to watch the approach of enemies, but with another on the opposite hill, to point out the safe entrance into this port between them, by night as well as by day.

 

In this fortress, the Romans seem afterwards to have kept a garrison of veterans, as we learn from Pancirollus, who tells us that a company of soldiers under their chief, called Præpositus Militum Tungricanorum, was stationed within this fortess.

 

Out of the remains of part of the above-mentioned Roman buildings here, a Christian church was erected, as most historians write, by Lucius, king of Britain, about the year 161; but it is much to be doubted whether there ever was such a king in Britain; if there was, he was only a tributary chief to the Roman emperor, under whose peculiar government Britain was then accounted. This church was built, no doubt, for the use of that part of the garrison in particular, who were at that time believers of the gospel, and afterwards during the different changes of the Christian and Pagan religions in these parts, was made use of accordingly, till St. Augustine, soon after the year 597, at the request of king Ethelbert, reconsecrated it, and dedicated it anew, in honour of the blessed Virgin Mary.

 

¶His son and successor Eadbald, king of Kent, founded a college of secular canons and a provost in this church, whose habitations, undoubtedly near it, there are not the least traces of. These continued here till after the year 691; when Widred, king of Kent, having increated the fortifications, and finding the residence of the religious within them an incumbrance, removed them from hence into the town of Dover, to the antient church of St. Martin; in the description of which hereafter, a further account of them will be given.

  

DOVER does not seem to have been in much repute as a harbour, till some time after Cæsar's expedition hither; for the unfitness, as well as insecurity of the place, especially for a large fleet of shipping, added to the character which he had given of it, deterred the Romans from making a frequent use of it, so that from Boleyne, or Gessoriacum, their usual port in Gaul, they in general failed with their fleets to Richborough, or Portus Rutupinus, situated at the mouth of the Thames, in Britain, and thence back again; the latter being a most safe and commodious haven, with a large and extensive bay.

 

Notwithstanding which, Dover certainly was then made use of as a port for smaller vessels, and a nearer intercourse for passengers from the continent; and to render the entrance to it more safe, the Romans built two Specula, or watch-towers, here, on the two hills opposite to each other, to point out the approach to it, and one likewise on the opposite hill at Bologne, for the like purpose there; and it is mentioned as a port by Antoninus, in his Itinerary, in which, ITER III. is A Londinio ad Portum Dubris, i. e. from London to the port of Dover.

 

After the departure of the Romans from Britain, when the port of Bologne, as well as Richborough, fell into decay and disuse, and instead of the former a nearer port came into use, first at Whitsan, and when that was stopped up, a little higher at Calais, Dover quickly became the more usual and established port of passage between France and Britain, and it has continued so to the present time.

 

When the antient harbour of Dover was changed from its antient situation is not known; most probably by various occurrences of nature, the sea left it by degrees, till at last the farmer scite of it became entirely swallowed up by the beach. That the harbour was much further within land, even at the time of the conquest than it is at present, seems to be confirmed by Domesday, in which it is said, that at the entrance of it, there was a mill which damaged almost every ship that passed by it, on account of the great swell of the sea there. Where the scite of this mill was, is now totally unknown, though it is probable it was much within the land, and that by the still further accumulation of the beach, and other natural causes, this haven was in process of time so far filled up towards the inland part of it, as to change its situation still more to the south-west, towards the sea.

 

From the time of the Norman conquest this port continued the usual passage to the continent, and to confine the intercourse to this port only, there was a statute passed anno 4 Edward IV. that none should take shipping for Calais, but at Dover. (fn. 20) But in king Henry VII.'s time, which was almost the next reign, the harbour was become so swerved up, as to render it necessary for the king's immediate attention, to prevent its total ruin, and he expended great sums of money for its preservation. But it was found, that all that was done, would not answer the end proposed, without the building of a pier to seaward, which was determined on about the middle of Henry VIII.'s reign, and one was constructed, which was compiled of two rows of main posts, and great piles, which were let into holes hewn in the rock underneath, and some were shod with iron, and driven down into the main chalk, and fastened together with iron bands and bolts. The bottom being first filled up with great rocks of stone, and the remainder above with great chalk stones, beach, &c. During the whole of this work, the king greatly encouraged the undertaking, and came several times to view it; and in the whole is said to have expended near 63,000l. on it. But his absence afterwards abroad, his ill health, and at last his death, joined to the minority of his successor, king Edward VI. though some feeble efforts were made in his reign, towards the support of this pier, put a stop to, and in the end exposed this noble work to decay and ruin.

 

Queen Mary, indeed, attempted to carry it on again, but neither officers nor workmen being well paid, it came to nothing, so that in process of time the sea having brought up great quantities of beach again upon it, the harbour was choaked up, and the loss of Calais happening about the same time, threatened the entire destruction of it. Providentially the shelf of beach was of itself became a natural defence against the rage of the sea, insomuch, that if a passage could be made for ships to get safely within it, they might ride there securely.

 

To effect this, several projects were formed, and queen Elizabeth, to encourage it, gave to the town the free transportation of several thousand quarters of corn and tuns of beer; and in the 23d of her reign, an act passed for giving towards the repair of the harbour, a certain tonnage from every vessel above twenty tons burthen, passing by it, which amounted to 1000l. yearly income; and the lord Cobham, then lordwarden, and others, were appointed commissioners for this purpose; and in the end, after many different trials to effect it, a safe harbour was formed, with a pier, and different walls and sluices, at a great expence; during the time of which a universal diligence and public spirit appeared in every one concerned in this great and useful work. During the whole of the queen's reign, the improvement of this harbour continued without intermission, and several more acts passed for that purpose; but the future preservation of it was owing to the charter of incorporation of the governors of it, in the first year of king James I. by an act passed that year, by the name of the warden and assistants of the harbour of Dover, the warden being always the lord-warden of the cinque ports for the time being, and his assistants, his lieutenant, and the mayor of Dover, for the time being, and eight others, the warden and assistants only making a quorum; six to be present to make a session; at any of which, on a vacancy, the assistants to be elected; and the king granted to them his land or waste ground, or beach, commonly called the Pier, or Harbour ground, as it lay without Southgate, or Snargate, the rents of which are now of the yearly value of about three hundred pounds.

 

Under the direction of this corporation, the works and improvements of this harbour have been carried on, and acts of parliament have been passed in almost every reign since, to give the greater force to their proceedings.

 

From what has been said before, the reader will observe, that this harbour has always been a great national object, and that in the course of many ages, prodigious sums of money have been from time to time expended on it, and every endeavour used to keep it open, and render it commodious; but after all these repeated endeavours and expences, it still labours under such circumstances, as in a very great degree renders unsuccessful all that has ever been done for that purpose.

 

DOVER, as has been already mentioned, was of some estimation in the time of the Roman empire in Britain, on account of its haven, and afterwards for the castle, in which they kept a strong garrison of sol. diers, not only to guard the approach to it, but to keep the natives in subjection; and in proof of their residence here, the Rev. Mr. Lyon some years since discovered the remains of a Roman structure, which he apprehended to have been a bath, at the west end of the parish-church of St. Mary, in this town, which remains have since repeatedly been laid open when interments have taken place there.

 

This station of the Romans is mentioned by Antonine, in his Itinerary of the Roman roads in Britain, by the name of Dubris, as being situated from the station named Durovernum, or Canterbury, fourteen miles; which distance, compared with the miles as they are now numbered from Canterbury, shews the town, as well as the haven, for they were no doubt contiguous to each other, to have both been nearer within land than either of them are at present, the present distance from Canterbury being near sixteen miles as the road now goes, The sea, indeed, seems antiently to have occupied in great part the space where the present town of Dover, or at least the northwest part of it, now stands; but being shut out by the quantity of beach thrown up, and the harbour changed by that means to its present situation, left that place a dry ground, on which the town of Dover, the inhabitants following the traffic of the harbour, was afterwards built.

 

This town, called by the Saxons, Dofra, and Dofris; by later historians, Doveria; and in Domesday, Dovere; is agreed by all writers to have been privileged before the conquest; and by the survey of Domesday, appears to have been of ability in the time of king Edward the Confessor, to arm yearly twenty vessels for sea service. In consideration of which, that king granted to the inhabitants, not only to be free from the payment of thol and other privileges throughout the realm, but pardoned them all manner of suit and service to any of his courts whatsoever; and in those days, the town seems to have been under the protection and government of Godwin, earl of Kent, and governor of this castle.

 

Soon after the conquest, this town was so wasted by fire, that almost all the houses were reduced to ashes, as appears by the survey of Domesday, at the beginning of which is the following entry of it:

 

DOVERE, in the time of king Edward, paid eighteen pounds, of which money, king E had two parts, and earl Goduin the third. On the other hand, the canons of St. Martin had another moiety. The burgesses gave twenty ships to the king once in the year, for fifteen days; and in each ship were twenty and one men. This they did on the account that he had pardoned them sac and soc. When the messengers of the king came there, they gave for the passage of a horse three pence in winter, and two in summer. But the burgesses found a steerman, and one other assistant, and if there should be more necessary, they were provided at his cost. From the festival of St. Michael to the feast of St. Andrew, the king's peace was in the town. Sigerius had broke it, on which the king's bailiff had received the usual fine. Whoever resided constantly in the town paid custom to the king; he was free from thol throughout England. All these customs were there when king William came into England. On his first arrival in England, the town itself was burnt, and therefore its value could not be computed how much it was worth, when the bishop of Baieux received it. Now it is rated at forty pounds, and yet the bailiff pays from thence fifty-four pounds to the king; of which twenty-four pounds in money, which were twenty in an one, but thirty pounds to the earl by tale.

 

In Dovere there are twenty-nine plats of ground, of which the king had lost the custom. Of these Robert de Romenel has two. Ralph de Curbespine three. William, son of Tedald, one. William, son of Oger, one. William, son of Tedold, and Robert niger, six. William, son of Goisfrid, three, in which the guildhall of the burgesses was. Hugo de Montfort one house. Durand one. Rannulf de Colubels one. Wadard six. The son of Modbert one. And all these vouch the bishop of Baieux as the protector and giver of these houses. Of that plat of ground, which Rannulf de Colubels holds, which was a certain outlaw, they agree that the half of the land was the king's, and Rannulf himself has both parts. Humphry the lame man holds one plat of ground, of which half the forfeiture is the king's. Roger de Ostrabam made a certain house over the king's water, and held to this time the custom of the king; nor was a house there in the time of king Edward. In the entrance of the port of Dovere, there is one mill, which damages almost every ship, by the great swell of the sea, and does great damage to the king and his tenants; and it was not there in the time of king Edward. Concerning this, the grandson of Herbert says, that the bishop of Baieux granted it to his uncle Herbert, the son of Ivo.

 

And a little further, in the same record, under the bishop's possessions likewise:

 

In Estrei hundred, Wibertus holds half a yoke, which lies in the gild of Dover, and now is taxed with the land of Osbert, the son of Letard, and is worth per annum four shillings.

 

From the Norman conquest, the cities and towns of this realm appear to have been vested either in the crown, or else in the clergy or great men of the laity, and they were each, as such, immediately lords of the same. Thus, when the bishop of Baieux, to whom the king had, as may be seen by the above survey, granted this town, was disgraced. It returned into the king's hands by forfeiture, and king Richard I. afterwards granted it in ferme to Robt. Fitz-bernard. (fn. 21)

 

After the time of the taking of the survey of Domesday, the harbour of Dover still changing its situation more to the south-westward, the town seems to have altered its situation too, and to have been chiefly rebuilt along the sides of the new harbour, and as an encouragement to it, at the instance, and through favour especially to the prior of Dover, king Edward I. in corporated this town, the first that was so of any of the cinque ports, by the name of the mayor and commonalty. The mayor to be chosen out of the latter, from which body he was afterwards to chuse the assistants for his year, who were to be sworn for that purpose. At which time, the king had a mint for the coinage of money here; and by patent, anno 27 of that reign, the table of the exchequer of money was appointed to be held here, and at Yarmouth. (fn. 22) But the good effects of these marks of the royal favour were soon afterwards much lessened, by a dreadful disaster; for the French landed here in the night, in the 23d year of that reign, and burnt the greatest part of the town, and several of the religious houses, in it, and this was esteemed the more treacherousk, as it was done whilst the two cardinals were here, treating for a peace between England and France; which misfortune, however, does not seem to have totally impoverished it, for in the 17th year of the next reign of king Edward II it appears in some measure to have recovered its former state, and to have been rebuilt, as appears by the patent rolls of that year, in which the town of Dover is said to have then had in it twenty-one wards, each of which was charged with one ship for the king's use; in consideration of which, each ward had the privilege of a licensed packetboat, called a passenger, from Dover across the sea to Whitsan, in France, the usual port at that time of embarking from thence.

 

The state of this place in the reign of Henry VIII. is given by Leland, in his Itinerary, as follows:

 

"Dovar ys xii myles fro Canterbury and viii fro Sandwich. Ther hath bene a haven yn tyme past and yn taken ther of the ground that lyith up betwyxt the hilles is yet in digging found wosye. Ther hath bene found also peeces of cabelles and anchores and Itinerarium Antonini cawlyth hyt by the name of a haven. The towne on the front toward the se hath bene right strongly walled and embateled and almost al the residew; but now yt is parly fawlen downe and broken downe. The residew of the towne as far as I can perceyve was never waulled. The towne is devided into vi paroches. Wherof iii be under one rose at S. Martines yn the hart of the town. The other iii stand that yt hath be walled abowt but not dyked. The other iii stand abrode, of the which one is cawled S. James of Rudby or more likely Rodeby a statione navium. But this word ys not sufficient to prove that Dovar showld be that place, the which the Romaynes cawlled Portus Rutupi or Rutupinum. For I cannot yet se the contrary but Retesboro otherwise cawlled Richeboro by Sandwich, both ways corruptly, must neades be Rutupinum. The mayne strong and famose castel of Dovar stondeth on the loppe of a hille almost a quarter of a myle of fro the towne on the lyst side and withyn the castel ys a chapel, yn the sides wherof appere sum greate Briton brykes. In the town was a great priory of blacke monkes late suppressed. There is also an hospitalle cawlled the Meason dew. On the toppe of the hye clive betwene the towne and the peere remayneth yet abowt a slyte shot up ynto the land fro the very brymme of the se clysse as ruine of a towr, the which has bene as a pharos or a mark to shyppes on the se and therby was a place of templarys. As concerning the river of Dovar it hath no long cowrse from no spring or hedde notable that descendith to that botom. The principal hed, as they say is at a place cawled Ewelle and that is not past a iii or iiii myles fro Dovar. Ther be springes of frech waters also at a place cawled Rivers. Ther is also a great spring at a place cawled …… and that once in a vi or vii yeres brasted owt so abundantly that a great part of the water cummeth into Dovar streme, but als yt renneth yn to the se betwyxt Dovar and Folchestan, but nerer to Folchestan that is to say withyn a ii myles of yt. Surely the hedde standeth so that it might with no no great cost be brought to run alway into Dovar streame." (fn. 23)

Cougate Crosse-gate Bocheruy-gate stoode with toures toward the se. There is beside Beting-gate and Westegate.

Howbeyt MTuine tol me a late that yt hath be walled abowt but not dyked.

 

This was the state of Dover just before the time of the dissolution of religious houses, in Henry VIII.'s reign, when the abolition of private masses, obits, and such like services in churches, occasioned by the reformation, annillilated the greatest part of the income of the priests belonging to them, in this as well as in other towns, in consequence of which most of them were deserted, and falling to ruin, the parishes belonging to them were united to one or two of the principal ones of them. Thus, in this town, of the several churches in it, two only remained in use for divine service, viz. St. Mary's and St. James's, to which the parishes of the others were united.

 

After this, the haven continuting to decay more than ever, notwithstanding the national assistance afforded to it, the town itself seemed hastening to impoverishment. What the state of it was in the 8th year of queen Elizabeth, may be seen, by the certificate returned by the queen's order of the maritime places, in her 8th year, by which it appears that there were then in Dover, houses inhabited three hundred and fifty-eight; void, or lack of inhabiters, nineteen; a mayor, customer, comptroller of authorities, not joint but several; ships and crayers twenty, from four tons to one hundred and twenty.

 

¶This probable ruin of the town, however, most likely induced the queen, in her 20th year, to grant it a new charter of incorporation, in which the manner of chusing mayor, jurats, and commoners, and of making freemen, was new-modelled, and several surther liberties and privileges granted, and those of the charter of king Edward I. confirmed likewise by inspeximus. After which, king Charles II. in his 36th year, anno 1684, granted to it a new charter, which, however, was never inrolled in chancery, and in consequence of a writ of quo warranto was that same year surrendered, and another again granted next year; but this last, as well as another charter granted by king James II. and forced on the corporation, being made wholly subservient to the king's own purposes, were annulled by proclamation, made anno 1688, being the fourth and last year of his reign: but none of the above charters being at this time extant, (the charters of this corporation, as well as those of the other cinque ports, being in 1685, by the king's command, surrendered up to Col. Strode, then governor of Dover castle, and never returned again, nor is it known what became of them,) Dover is now held to be a corporation by prescription, by the stile of the mayor, jurats, and commonalty of the town and port of Dover. It consists at present of a mayor, twelve jurats, and thirty-six commoners, or freemen, together with a chamberlain, recorder, and town-clerk. The mayor, who is coroner by virtue of his office, is chosen on Sept. 8, yearly, in St. Mary's church, and together with the jurats, who are justices within this liberty, exclusive of all others, hold a court of general sessions of the peace and gaol delivery, together with a court of record, and it has other privileges, mostly the same as the other corporations, within the liberties of the cinque ports. It has the privilege of a mace. The election of mayor was antiently in the church of St. Peter, whence in 1581 it was removed to that of St. Mary, where it has been, as well as the elections of barons to serve in parliament, held ever since. These elections here, as well as elsewhere in churches, set apart for the worship of God, are certainly a scandal to decency and religion, and are the more inexcusable here, as there is a spacious court-hall, much more fit for the purposes. After this, there was another byelaw made, in June, 1706, for removing these elections into the court-hall; but why it was not put in execution does not appear, unless custom prevented it—for if a decree was of force to move them from one church to another, another decree was of equal force to remove them from the church to the courthall. Within these few years indeed, a motion was made in the house of commons, by the late alderman Sawbridge, a gentlemand not much addicted to speak in favour of the established church, to remove all such elections, through decency, from churches to other places not consecrated to divine worship; but though allowed to be highly proper, yet party resentment against the mover of it prevailed, and the motion was negatived by a great majority.

 

The mayor is chosen by the resident freemen. The jurats are nominated from the common-councilmen by the jurats, and appointed by the mayor, jurats, and common-councilmen, by ballot.

  

THE CHURCH OF ST. Mary stands at some distance from the entrance into this town from Canterbury, near the market-place. It is said to have been built by the prior and convent of St. Martin, (fn. 47) in the year 1216; but from what authority, I know not.—Certain it is, that it was in king John's reign, in the gift of the king, and was afterwards given by him to John de Burgh; but in the 8th year of Richard II.'s reign, anno 1384, it was become appropriated to the abbot of Pontiniac. After which, by what means, I cannot discover, this appropriation, as well as the advowson of the church, came into the possession of the master and brethren of the hospital of the Maison Dieu, who took care that the church should be daily served by a priest, who should officiate in it for the benefit of the parish. In which state it continued till the suppression of the hospital, in the 36th year of king Henry VIII.'s reign, when it came into the hands of the crown, at which time the parsonage was returned by John Thompson, master of the hospital, to be worth six pounds per annum.

 

Two years after which, the king being at Dover, at the humble entreaty of the inhabitants of this parish, gave to them, as it is said, this church, with the cemetery adjoining to it, to be used by them as a parochial church; at the same time he gave the pews of St. Martin's church for the use of it; and on the king's departure, in token of possession, they sealed up the church doors; since which, the patronage of it, which is now esteemed as a perpetual curacy, the minister of it being licensed by the archbishop, has been vested in the inhabitants of this parish. Every parishioner, paying scot and lot, having a vote in the chusing of the minister, whose maintenance had been from time to time, at their voluntary option, more or less. It is now fixed at eighty pounds per annum. Besides which he has the possession of a good house, where he resides, which was purchased by the inhabitants in 1754, for the perpetual use of the minister of it. It is exempt from the jurisdiction of the archdeacon. (fn. 48)

 

There is a piece of ground belonging, as it is said, to the glebe of this church, rented annually at ten pounds, which is done by vestry, without the minister being at all concerned in it. In 1588 here were eight hundred and twenty-one communicants. This parish contains more than five parts out of six of the whole town, and a greater proportion of the inhabitants.

 

The church of St. Mary is a large handsome building of three isles, having a high and south chancel, all covered with lead, and built of flints, with ashler windows and door cases, which are arched and ornamented. At the west end is the steeple, which is a spire covered with lead, in which are eight bells, a clock, and chimes. The pillars in the church are large and clumsy; the arches low and semicircular in the body, but eliptical in the chancel; but there is no separation between the body and chancel, and the pews are continued on to the east end of the church. In the high chancel, at the eastern extremity of it, beyond the altar, are the seats for the mayor and jurats; and here the mayor is now chosen, and the barons in parliament for this town and port constantly elected.

 

In 1683, there was a faculty granted to the churchwardens, to remove the magistrates seats from the east end of the church to the north side, or any other more convenient part of it, and for the more decent and commodious placing the communion table: in consequence of which, these seats were removed, and so placed, but they continued there no longer than 1689, when, by several orders of vestry, they were removed back again to where they remain at present.

 

The mayor was antiently chosen in St. Peter's church; but by a bye-law of the corporation, it was removed to this church in 1583, where it has ever since been held. In 1706, another bye law was made, to remove, for the sake of decency, all elections from this church to the court-hall, but it never took place. More of which has been mentioned before.

 

From the largeness, as well as the populousness of this parish, the church is far from being sufficient to contain the inhabitants who resort to it for public worship, notwithstanding there are four galleries in it, and it is otherwise well pewed. This church was paved in 1642, but it was not ceiled till 1706. In 1742, there was an organ erected in it. The two branches in it were given, one by subscription in 1738, and the other by the pilots in 1742.

 

Thomas Toke, of Dover, buried in the chapel of St. Katharine, in this church, by his will in 1484, gave seven acres of land at Dugate, under Windlass-down, to the wardens of this church, towards the repairs of it for ever.

 

¶The monuments and memorials in this church and church yard, are by far too numerous to mention here. Among them are the following: A small monument in the church for the celebrated Charles Churchill, who was buried in the old church-yard of St. Martin in this town, as has been noticed before; and a small stone, with a memorial for Samuel Foote, esq. the celebrated comedian, who died at the Ship inn, and had a grave dug for him in this church, but was afterwards carried to London, and buried there. A monument and several memorials for the family of Eaton; arms, Or, a sret, azure. A small tablet for John Ker, laird of Frogden, in Twit dale, in Scotland, who died suddenly at Dover, in his way to France, in 1730. Two monuments for Farbrace, arms, Azure, a bend, or, between two roses, argent, seeded, or, bearded vert. A monument in the middle isle, to the memory of the Minet family. In the north isle are several memorials for the Gunmans, of Dover; arms,. … a spread eagle, argent, gorged with a ducal coronet, or. There are others, to the memory of Broadley, Rouse, and others, of good account in this town.

 

www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-kent/vol9/pp475-548

Police have released the above identikit image of a pernicious and persistent abuser of photographic decency. The public are advised to not approach this lunatic as he may be armed with a fully loaded medium format TLR.

 

We're Here to warn you about Outlaws, for they walk among us.

 

Tripod-mounted & lit by a Speedlite on a stick. Composited image of me & mine botched together in Photoshop.

The inland waterways vessel Newford is seen here in the Deurganck dock on its way to the DP World Terminal (on the right). Later in the day the vessel also loaded and containers at the MPET Terminal (on the left).

 

On the left, at the MPET terminal is the green hulled Sandy Rickmers (IMO 9220079), MSC Nitya B (IMO 9778117), the MSC Jordan (IMO 8918980) which is just sailing for Le Havre, and the MSC Romane (IMO 9745653).

On the right, at the DP World Terminal, is the CMA CGM Niagara (IMO 9722675), Northern Decency (IMO 9253296) and the Hannah Schulte (IMO 9301938)

 

Anne became Queen of England, Scotland and Ireland on 8 March 1702. On 1 May 1707, under the Acts of Union, two of her realms, the kingdoms of England and Scotland, united as a single sovereign state known as Great Britain.

 

Born: 6 February 1665, St James's Palace, St James's

Died: 1 August 1714, Kensington Palace, London

Coronation: 23 April 1702

Spouse: Prince George of Denmark (m. 1683–1708)

House: House of Stuart

Children: Prince William, Duke of Gloucester, Anne Sophia, Mary, George

 

Around 1671, Anne first made the acquaintance of Sarah Jennings, who later became her close friend and one of her most influential advisers. Jennings married John Churchill (the future Duke of Marlborough) in about 1678. His sister, Arabella Churchill, was the Duke of York's mistress, and he was to be Anne's most important general.

 

Anne and George of Denmark were married on 28 July 1683 in the Chapel Royal and Sarah Churchill was appointed one of Anne's ladies of the bedchamber.

 

In what became known as the "Glorious Revolution", William of Orange invaded England on 5 November 1688 in an action that ultimately deposed King James. Forbidden by James to pay Mary a projected visit in the spring of 1687, Anne corresponded with her and was aware of the plans to invade. On the advice of the Churchills, she refused to side with James after William landed and instead wrote to William on 18 November declaring her approval of his action. Churchill abandoned the unpopular king on the 24th. Prince George followed suit that night, and in the evening of the following day James issued orders to place Sarah Churchill under house arrest at St James's Palace. Anne and Sarah fled from Whitehall by a back staircase, putting themselves under the care of Bishop Compton. They spent one night in his house, and subsequently arrived at Nottingham on 1 December. Two weeks later and escorted by a large company, Anne arrived at Oxford, where she met Prince George in triumph.

 

In January 1689, a Convention Parliament assembled in England and declared that James had effectively abdicated when he fled, and that the thrones of England and Ireland were therefore vacant. The Parliament or Estates of Scotland took similar action, and William and Mary were declared monarchs of all three realms. The Bill of Rights 1689 and Claim of Right Act 1689 settled the succession. Anne and her descendants were to be in the line of succession after William and Mary, and they were to be followed by any descendants of William by a future marriage. On 24 July 1689, Anne gave birth to a son, Prince William, Duke of Gloucester, who, though ill, survived infancy. As King William and Queen Mary had no children, it looked as though Anne's son would eventually inherit the Crown.

 

Soon after their accession, William and Mary rewarded John Churchill by granting him the Earldom of Marlborough. Resentment soon grew between the sisters, Mary and Anne, over Anne's wish to become financially independent. From around this time, at Anne's request she and Sarah Churchill, Lady Marlborough, began to call each other the pet names Mrs. Morley and Mrs. Freeman respectively, to facilitate a relationship of greater equality between the two when they were alone. In January 1692, suspecting that Marlborough was secretly conspiring with James's followers, the Jacobites, William and Mary dismissed him from all his offices. In a public show of support for the Marlboroughs, Anne took Sarah to a social event at the palace, and refused her sister's request to dismiss Sarah from her household. Lady Marlborough was subsequently removed from the royal household by the Lord Chamberlain, and Anne angrily left her royal lodgings and took up residence at Syon House, the home of the Duke of Somerset.[69] Anne was stripped of her guard of honour; courtiers were forbidden to visit her, and civic authorities were instructed to ignore her. In April, Anne gave birth to a son who died within minutes. Mary visited her, but instead of offering comfort took the opportunity to berate Anne once again for her friendship with Sarah. The sisters never saw each other again.

 

When Mary died of smallpox in 1694, William continued to reign alone. Anne became his heir apparent and the two reconciled publicly. He restored her previous honours, allowed her to reside in St James's Palace, and gave her Mary's jewels but excluded her from government and refrained from appointing her regent during his absences abroad. Three months later, William restored Marlborough to his offices.

 

Soon after her accession, Anne appointed her husband Lord High Admiral, giving him nominal control of the Royal Navy. Anne gave control of the army to Lord Marlborough, whom she appointed Captain-General. Marlborough also received numerous honours from the Queen; he was created a Knight of the Garter and was elevated to the rank of duke. The Duchess of Marlborough was appointed Groom of the Stole, Mistress of the Robes, and Keeper of the Privy Purse.

 

The Whigs vigorously supported the War of the Spanish Succession and became even more influential after the Duke of Marlborough won a great victory at the Battle of Blenheim in 1704. Many of the High Tories, who opposed British involvement in the land war against France, were removed from office. Godolphin, Marlborough, and Harley, who had replaced Nottingham as Secretary of State for the Northern Department, formed a ruling "triumvirate". They were forced to rely more and more on support from the Whigs, and particularly from the Whig Junto—Lords Somers, Halifax, Orford, Wharton and Sunderland—whom Anne disliked. Sarah, the Duchess of Marlborough, incessantly badgered the Queen to appoint more Whigs and reduce the power of the Tories, whom she considered little better than Jacobites, and the Queen became increasingly discontented with her. In 1706, Godolphin and the Marlboroughs forced Anne to accept Lord Sunderland, a Junto Whig and the Marlboroughs' son-in-law, as Harley's colleague as Secretary of State for the Southern Department. Although this strengthened the ministry's position in Parliament, it weakened the ministry's position with the Queen, as Anne became increasingly irritated with Godolphin and with her former favourite, the Duchess of Marlborough, for supporting Sunderland and other Whig candidates for vacant government and church positions. The Queen turned for private advice to Harley, who was uncomfortable with Marlborough and Godolphin's turn towards the Whigs. She also turned to Abigail Hill, a woman of the bedchamber whose influence grew as Anne's relationship with Sarah deteriorated. Abigail was related to both Harley and the Duchess, but was politically closer to Harley, and acted as an intermediary between him and the Queen.

 

The division within the ministry came to a head on 8 February 1708, when Godolphin and the Marlboroughs insisted that the Queen had to either dismiss Harley or do without their services. When the Queen seemed to hesitate, Marlborough and Godolphin refused to attend a cabinet meeting. Harley attempted to lead business without his former colleagues, and several of those present including the Duke of Somerset refused to participate until they returned. Her hand forced, the Queen dismissed Harley.

 

The following month, Anne's Catholic half-brother, James Francis Edward Stuart, attempted to land in Scotland with French assistance in an attempt to establish himself as king. Anne withheld royal assent from the Scottish Militia Bill 1708 in case the militia raised in Scotland was disloyal and sided with the Jacobites. She was the last British sovereign to veto a parliamentary bill, although her action was barely commented upon at the time. The invasion fleet never landed and was chased away by British ships.

 

The Duchess of Marlborough was angered when Abigail moved into rooms at Kensington Palace that Sarah considered her own, though she rarely if ever used them. In July 1708, she came to court with a bawdy poem written by a Whig propagandist. that implied a lesbian relationship between Anne and Abigail. The Duchess wrote to Anne telling her she had damaged her reputation by taking up such a friend. Whilst some modern commentators have concluded Anne was a lesbian, most have rejected this analysis. In the opinion of Anne's biographers, she considered Abigail nothing more than a trusted servant, and was a woman of strong traditional beliefs, who was devoted to her husband.

 

At a thanksgiving service for a victory at the Battle of Oudenarde, Anne did not wear the jewels that Sarah had selected for her. At the door of St Paul's Cathedral, they had an argument that culminated in Sarah offending the Queen by telling her to be quiet. Anne was dismayed. When Sarah forwarded an unrelated letter from her husband to Anne, with a covering note continuing the argument, Anne wrote back pointedly, "After the commands you gave me on the thanksgiving day of not answering you, I should not have troubled you with these lines, but to return the Duke of Marlborough's letter safe into your hands, and for the same reason do not say anything to that, nor to yours which enclosed it."

 

Anne was devastated by her husband's death in October 1708 and the event proved a turning point in her relationship with the Duchess of Marlborough. The Duchess arrived at Kensington Palace shortly before George died, and after his death insisted that Anne leave Kensington for St James's Palace against her wishes. Anne resented the Duchess's intrusive actions, which included removing a portrait of George from the Queen's bedchamber and then refusing to return it. With Whigs now dominant in Parliament, and Anne distraught at the loss of her husband, they forced her to accept the Junto leaders Lords Somers and Wharton into the cabinet. Sarah continued to berate Anne for her friendship with Abigail, and in October 1709, Anne wrote to the Duke of Marlborough asking that his wife "leave off teasing & tormenting me & behave herself with the decency she ought both to her friend and Queen".[162] On Maundy Thursday 6 April 1710, Anne and Sarah saw each other for the last time. According to Sarah, the Queen was taciturn and formal, repeating the same phrases—"Whatever you have to say you may put in writing" and "You said you desired no answer, and I shall give you none"—over and over.

 

As the expensive War of the Spanish Succession grew unpopular, so did the Whig administration. The Duke of Marlborough was for the time being allowed to remain in charge of the army but in January 1711, Anne forced Sarah to resign her court offices, and Abigail took over as Keeper of the Privy Purse. Having lost her most trusted advisers, Anne created 12 new peers, Abigail's husband included and dismissed the Marlboroughs on the same day. The peace treaty was ratified and Britain's military involvement in the War of the Spanish Succession ended.

 

Anne was buried beside her husband and children in the Henry VII chapel on the South Aisle of Westminster Abbey on 24 August. Author David Green noted, "Hers was not, as used to be supposed, petticoat government. She had considerable power; yet time and time again she had to capitulate." Professor Edward Gregg concluded that Anne was often able to impose her will, even though, as a woman in an age of male dominance and preoccupied by her health, her reign was marked by an increase in the influence of ministers and a decrease in the influence of the Crown.[203] She attended more cabinet meetings than any of her predecessors or successors,[204] and presided over an age of artistic, literary, economic and political advancement that was made possible by the stability and prosperity of her reign.

 

Abridged (believe it or not) from en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anne,_Queen_of_Great_Britain

   

David Mark - Long Shot

(Original Title: The Long Chance)

Dell Books D300, 1959

Cover Artist: Mitchell Hooks

 

"He threw away pride, decency and love for a rotten little tramp and the sick excitement of the race-track world."

This city is dead.

 

No good looking people around,

I wonder how the reputation of this society could go down like this.

 

Living with such a majority, my life sucks.

We were surrounded before I figured out that someone was gonna get hurt.

 

I didn't see it coming at all and it happened so fast that there really wasn't time to get scared.

 

The guy that threw the punch was young... like twenty eight maybe... and you could tell he worked out... a lot... probably junked up on steroids too... had his sleeves rolled up in that roid-rager way to show off his 'guns'... even though that'd gone out of style years before.

 

It was the kinda punch a guy'd throw to impress his buddies.

 

The kinda punch a man throws not so much to hurt the guy he's hittin' but to say to his buddies 'I gotcher back.'

 

That's probably the worst punch to get hit with.

 

Man... it flew right close by my head... I thought it was comin' for me but it was way too fast for me to even duck it.

 

I could HEAR the guy's swing.

 

The guy knew how to throw a punch too... that was pretty clear.

 

He started it with his big toe and the energy went right through his entire body like a lightning bolt and it was all invested in his meaty well formed fist... watching him throw it was like watching a whip get cracked.

 

There wasn't even time to blink.

 

He 'punched through' his target like a skilled street fighter.

 

That hit was 'all business.'

 

The old man's nose was just instantly shattered right in front of me... obliterated.

 

Before his body even crumpled there was this horrific explosion of blood.

 

It splattered everywhere and I remember it hitting the wall and the floor before his body did.

 

I remember this liquidy-thump sound... like a big piece of meat getting tenderized... nothing like the sound of a guy gettin' hit on TV.

 

The man's face was demolished.

 

This shit was for real.

 

Too real.

 

There must have been eight of them and I knew I was next.

 

I can tell you from experience that nothing sucks worse than being second in line for execution.

 

A guy I worked with taught interrogation to various agencies with the US Government... he's well known as an expert on the matter... we were driving through California one night on the way to a meeting in Tijuana and he told me that he was working with the Turks and their intelligence services a few years back.

 

They wanted to show him how they get a guy to talk.

 

So he said they tied a guy to a chair that they wanted information from and then they took another guy and tied him to a chair right in front of him...

 

a guy who had nothin' to do with nothin'... just some schmuck who got caught up in the operation.

 

They skinned the guy alive right in front of the dude that they wanted the information from.

 

Needless to say he sung like a canary and told them everything they wanted to hear.

 

My guy quit workin' with the Turkish Intelligence after that.

 

Because even in the world of intrigue there's boundaries to decency.

 

What kind of guy punches an old man like that for callin' his boss a liar?

 

I turned around to face the guy... I knew that there was no way outta this one.

 

I wasn't gonna take it in the back of the head but I knew I was gonna take it so I figured I'd take it like a man... at least I could see it comin'.

 

The circle tightened to close up the space the old man vacated after hitting the floor and I was at the center of it.

 

Those jackals seemed to want some more blood on the floor... this time it was gonna be my blood.

 

I really don't like seeing my blood puddle on the floor you know?

 

When the guy cocked back... I don't even think I threw my hands up to defend myself.

 

It would have just prolonged the agony I knew that I was about to feel.

 

But he didn't throw at me.

 

He hesitated.

 

We locked eyes and I silently mentally pleaded with the guy not to do it... but not a word came from my lips... I might've shook my head slightly... like 'don't do this' but that was it.

 

Who wants to die begging for their life?

 

I couldn't face God and ask him to let me slide by if I did that... and everyone knows the devil'd laugh your ass outta hell for it...

 

Maybe that's why they invented purgatory...

 

If you ain't good enough to get into heaven but you're too big a sissy boy to get into hell.

 

I wouldn't ask for mercy from a man so merciless he threw a punch like that at a defenseless old man.

 

Tough guy started to throw at me a time or two... like a flinch and he cocked back again... like he was readjusting his aim or his stance or something...

 

Like he was taking windage on a target.

 

It was almost like he wanted to see me cower in front of him and his buddies.

 

I'd take the beating silently before I gave him that satisfaction.

 

But the punch never came.

 

He just turned around and walked away and the circle around me broke up without a word, although I remember these sounds... contemptuous sounds... sounds that said 'you'dda been next' and 'you're lucky we don't kill you' but they weren't words proper... just noises.

 

The old man was making loud slurping-gurgling sounds and bleeding out all over the place...

 

He kinda rolled over and put his hands over his shattered nose.

 

It was pointing in a different direction as it had been when we'd walked in... almost like two directions if you can imagine that... it was heinously smashed.

 

The only sound he made was this labored gasping for air.

 

It was the unmistakeable sound of death if you've ever heard death before... the wheezing garglesong of the Grim Reaper himself.

 

When I picked the old man up to drag him outta there I was surprised at how light he was... like a feather really... he told me before we walked in that he was a retired railroad signalman... he hadda be almost eighty I figured.

 

He wore some awful synthetic pastel sweater and looked like everyone's grampa.

 

Now it was just covered in his blood.

 

Who the fuck goes around punching someone like that?

 

Especially someone who wears a badge.

 

I dragged the old guy out the door leaving a long bloody trail... that really thick, deep and dark blood that comes from a headwound like that... it was just pouring out of his nose... like it was a firehose of blood.

 

I dragged him across the sidewalk and his wife jumped out of the car as soon as she saw us.

 

I couldn't figure her out... she must've been really shocked or confused because she had this really sweet smile on her face.

 

Her husband looks like he's about to die on the sidewalk and I swear she looks like she's gonna pinch my cheek and offer me some cookies.

 

She was wearin' what looked like her Sunday church dress and I watched her smile turn to horror in an instant... a split second as she took it all in.

 

'No... no... no' she moaned.

 

I'll never forget the poor lady's look.

 

Seein' her seemed to perk the old guy up and I was kinda relieved that he got up under his own power... kinda staggerin' but he still got up.

 

You could tell he didn't want her seein' him like this.

 

She asked me what happened and he just looked at me... his head shaking... her hands trying to cradle him but retreating repeatedly in horror... like she couldn't bring herself to touch him.

 

He gave me that 'shut the fuck up and don't say anything to the old lady' look.

 

I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head and I turned around to walk away as the old man seemed to find a little bit of piss and vinegar or pride within' himself...

 

He got angrier as she screamed over and over again 'what happened' and she held her blood covered hands up to her face shaking them as if that would remove all the blood and turn back the clock to when her husbands face looked recognizable.

 

I think he mighta told her to shut up.

 

The effluent of assault gave off such contrast splattered on her yellow dress... it's splatter on the lace of her collar was something that never should have been... a deep and terrible masochistic irony.

 

It made it all seem so wrong.

 

The old man got into the drivers seat and yelled at her to shut the door.

 

He was trying to calm her down... to take some control of the situation... her panicking didn't seem to help anything.

 

With a heavy clunk the passenger door shut and the old Buick peeled off.

 

Probably straight to the emergency room.

 

I don't think we ever exchanged a word after he took that hit.

 

I jumped into my truck and got onto the expressway at twenty second street before the queasiness began to turn to seething red hot anger.

 

Fuck those motherfuckers I thought.

 

They had no right.

 

The old man didn't do anything but say that the cheif was wrong.

 

Who the hell did they think they were?

 

It wasn't a minute later I called up the district headquarters.

 

I told the guy who answered the phone what I'd just seen and he said someone from internal affairs would get back to me.

 

I hadn't driven seventy five blocks when my phone rang.

 

It was internal affairs.

 

They already knew my address.

 

They made sure to point that out.

 

They must have already called the station and got the story because the guy knew the details.

 

He told me that he was gonna turn on a tape recorder.

 

And he told me that I was going to say that 'I did not see a uniformed firefighter knock out an eighty year old man.'

 

He never threatened me.

 

Not with words anyway.

 

That was implicit in the tone of his voice.

 

But I knew the dirt I was dealin' with and I knew how they played the game.

 

I didn't know the old man.

 

It really wasn't even my beef.

 

He turned on the tape recorder.

 

I told him what he told me to say.

 

It is one of the few real regrets I have in this life.

 

And that's what was going through my mind in that dark parking lot fifteen years later when a completely bizarre sequence of events was initiated that led me to uncover the murder of more than two hundred innocent people.

 

People whose families had no idea they'd even been murdered until I told them.

 

And it was kinda looking like right now that I had the number '201' written on the target on my forehead.

Urbex Benelux -

 

In general, it is all about bad boys' areas like knocking down garbage cans, painting walls ( graffiti ), setting fire to waste and paper and scratching cars. It often concerns childish or adolescent behavior out of boredom and may indicate a lack of intelligence , imagination , decency or empathy , although the latter is by no means necessarily the case. [source?] For example, there may also be an inner dissatisfaction with the offender or even more serious psychological problems. Sometimes vandalism is committed as a revenge or as a protest against specific people or institutions. This can be, for example, painting walls with certain slogans, or smashing windows. They are not serious crimes, but it costs society a lot of money every year. Vandalism has been made punishable under Dutch criminal law as 'destruction' (Article 350 Penal Code). Since it is a crime, the perpetrator can incur a criminal record .

I've been in a Beatles mood as of late, so I hereby dedicate this flickr week to The Beatles! :D

My T-shirt is quite wrinkled... sigh* It's just a night shirt anyways... But I could have had the decency to de-wrinkle it. Oh well.

Don't forget to check out Becks as she is my 52 double.

 

In spite of the Supreme Court recently reaffirmed the right of protesters to cause disruption, this Bill wants to deny these rights now!

The police in Paris are in discussion with the NYC police and both are currently in communication with the Musée d'Orsay, and the Metropolitan, over the latest manifestation of this startling phenomenon.

 

Neither 'The International League of Decency', nor Marcel Duchamp were available for comment, but both denied (through representatives) having any connection to this recent spate of runaway nudes, descending or otherwise.

 

A Musée d'Orsay curator lamented that it was probably a mistake to allow the painting to travel to New York. "A girl could have her head turned. That city could turn anyone", he fomented (in French, of course).

 

Police, in New York and Paris, are asking the public to keep their eyes peeled, and to report any unexpected unclad figures, either male or female, to their local constabulary.

 

Manet was not available for comment.

 

Olympia's cat is said to be distraught.

Sikhism originated in the 15th century, in the Punjab region by Guru Nanak, who preached ideas that were radical for his age: he denounced Hinduism's oppressive caste system and Islam's gender discrimination, preaching that all people can commune with the divine equally, without the intervention of rituals or priests. The Sikh faith is a monotheistic religion, meaning Sikhs worship one God. The three core pillars of Sikhism are: vaṇḍ chakkō (sharing with others, helping those in need, as well as participating as part of a community), kirat karō (earning/making a living honestly, without exploitation or fraud, and speaking the truth at all times) and naam japna (meditating on God’s name to live a life of decency and humility).

The temporary distractions of the material world are seen as an illusion. The qualities of ego, anger, greed, attachment and lust are known as the Five Thieves that rob a person of their ability to realize their oneness with God and creation. Sikhs work to counteract the temptations of these qualities through the values of service, equality, and seeking justice for all. Sikhs also believe that one’s form on Earth is only a temporary vessel for the eternal soul. Thus, the death of the physical body is a natural part of the life cycle, while the soul remains. Death is not an end, but merely the progression of the soul on its journey toward God.

Nine more gurus succeeded Guru Nanak (Angad, Amar Das, Ram Das, Arjan, Har Gobind, Har Rai, Har Krishan, Tegh Bahadur, and Gobind Singh), and continued to spread his teachings across the world.

The last guru, Guru Gobind Singh, named the Sikh sacred text, the Guru Granth Sahib, to be the eternal Guru that would guide the Sikhs going forward. It consists of 1,430 Anks, or pages, and 6,000 Sabads, or line compositions, all are written in poetic verse and are aligning to the rhythmic forms of ancient north Indian classical music. At the core of the Guru Granth Sahib is a yearning for a world governed by divine justice, without oppression of any kind.

The final living guru, Gobind Singh, also established the Khalsa, or order of Sikh soldier-saints. They are recognizable by "The 5 k's," their physical articles of faith: Kesh (unshorn hair and beard), Kirpan (ceremonial sword), Kangha (comb), Kara (steel bracelet) and Kachha (drawers). The Dastar, or turban, is considered a spiritual crown, a token of remembrance of the Sikh principles.

 

Subathu, Himachal Pradesh, India

Well, it’s time for my annual “HEY THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED IN MY LIFE THIS YEAR” post, and I’ll get to that in a minute, but first we need to acknowledge the elephant in the room that’s probably fresh in a lot of your minds as well as mine:

 

You used to call me on my cell phone...

Late night when you neeeeed my love

 

Whoops, that’s not it.

 

Star Wars: The Force Awakens. Don't worry; this is not a spoiler. But if you’ve seen it, you know exactly what scene I’m talking about. I was definitely shaken, as much as one can get from a piece of fiction, by the plot twist in that movie. It was a great movie and an interesting story, and I’m curious to see where they’ll take the next one.

 

Alright, now that that’s out of the way, here’s how the rest of my year went.

 

On January 2nd, 2015, Ally and I hopped on a Porter plane for Montreal. It was a trip we had planned pretty spontaneously about a week or two before. The flight was a little bumpy, and I was getting over a brutal cold, but I was excited for a change of scenery. We took a bus from the airport to the part of town we were staying in, then took another bus up the road, picked up some cereal, unpacked our stuff at the AirBnB, and then headed out to eat. It was very, very cold. We looked for one restaurant in particular but it had a lineup down the block, so we tried to find a bakery and found that it was closed. We found a nice diner and ate there, and then walked around for the rest of the evening, my knees aching more and more as we walked further in the cold. The next morning, I woke up with a migraine. Not cool. I took some Advil and got up, and went to the planetarium and Olympic Stadium, where I got some decent pictures. The next day I woke up with a migraine again. What the hell! I took some Advil and got up, and we went outside and discovered that the entire city was covered in an inch of ice. We slid along the sidewalk with our gear toward the bus, which we took to an art gallery. We didn’t have to catch the plane until around 6:00, but after the art gallery we said “fuck it” and decided to just go to the airport and wait there. Half of Montreal was at the airport, and we found out our flight home had been cancelled. So I lined up and was told they were working on creating another flight in the morning. We waited some more and then took a shuttle to the hotel they had booked. When we got up around 5:00 the next morning, I checked my phone to see that our new flight had been cancelled. So we took the shuttle back to the airport and lined up again…our new new flight would leave around 10 or something. Around 11:30am it finally left, and we got to Toronto, having missed a day of placement. It was nice to be home sweet home.

 

In early February, I ceased working at my job up north. I would write more about that, but I’ve got an image to preserve.

 

I continued on in my placement at Good Shepherd until the end of February, and received a very nice send-off from the staff there. My experience there in the weeks that followed my end at the other place was nothing but positive. It was a great experience overall to be part of that organization.

 

After placement ended, Ally went away for a week-long meditation retreat, so I ate pizza pretty much every day, and developed a muscle-shaking problem that would take a few months to figure out.

 

In March, we went back to class for our last few months of the program. And boy, was that semester ever a bunch of bullshit. I thought I was considered the white devil in the previous semester! Okay, it wasn’t all bad…we had one class where I got to exercise my organization skills and be praised rather than criticized for it. We had lots of fun commiserating. But there was one Jerry Springer moment that brought all the tension out into the open. I have to omit some details here for the sake of karma superstition, er, I mean decency. One day, the class was having a discussion about the video that had just surfaced of a cop shooting a black guy to death as he ran away, and most of us were understandably disgusted at what was going on in America. Two of our classmates, from different racial and age groups, got into a huge argument over the definition of “assassinate”. Nasty words and invalidation were tossed around the room, with several parties jumping in, including the teacher. That moment, I believe, was the culmination of students being subtly pitted against one another; forgetting our common struggle as students or people in general…finding new divisions where uniting would have been more helpful. I’m sure the argument came as no surprise to anyone.

 

Shortly after school ended, I started getting a bunch of shifts at Good Shepherd (where I’d just been hired), and my job in Milton (where I hadn’t worked since October). Spring was a bit of a rebirth for me, as I was able to shed the frustrations of being implied as an active oppressor at school and get back to working, warm weather, and relaxing.

 

In May, Ally and I decided to do a paint night with our friends Cecilia, Stephane, V-Ron and Strahan, at their house. I had done a few small paintings in the previous two years, but this was the first “big” painting, and the subject was something cool (the Scarborough RT!). Back in 2013 I did a few small paintings with Ally’s guidance, and I had gotten into drawing while sitting in on group art therapy sessions at Good Shepherd that winter, and felt confident to try painting on a bigger scale. In fact, if there was one theme for me for 2015, it might be The Year Painting Became a Hobby. Although I still have a lot to learn, I’ve discovered another thing that I enjoy; where I can put my imagination on canvas. It’s also been cool to see some of my friends doing paint nights with their friends -- it’s like I’m finally doing something trendy!

 

Also around May, Ally and I borrowed a box set from my sister and decided to watch one of the greatest shows ever made: Seinfeld. You see, when Seinfeld was on its original run, I was much too young to understand the interpersonal dynamics and dilemmas. I saw a handful of episodes on TV over the years, but didn’t get into it. Now that I’ve been an adult for over a decade, I find myself cringing every time George tells Jerry he’s going to confront the woman he’s dating about some petty issue – and when he starts to confront her, I grab my head and groan “No, George, don’t do it! …Argh, no!!” I relate to George because he’s so socially clueless (and as my Zoo friends will remember, I was pretty clueless in my early 20s). I relate to Jerry because I’ve been pointing out the foolishness of various elements of humanity and society for years, and it turns out that’s what he does, too.

 

On July 8th, just in time for the Pan Am Games and HOV lanes, we embarked on the longest trip I’ve been on in a long time – it was time to show Ally the land of my childhood. With my mother, of course, since I no longer had faith in my old car to take us that far, and she was planning a trip out east anyway. We got to Edmundston on the first day. The next day, after roadside jungle hilarity in the New Brunswick wilderness, we got to North Sydney, where I nerded out over the ferries, and where the smell of rotting fish wafted in our bed-and-breakfast window. Mom and I both commented that it smelled like home. I don’t think Ally was as impressed.

 

Anyway, the next day we went to Sydney Ribfest, and then got on the ferry to Newfoundland. We spent the next several days doing touristy things like whale watching, Signal Hill and Cape Spear, and personal things like going around my old stomping grounds in the east end; taking pictures of my old houses, old schools, and old places I’d pass by every day. And eating my grandmother’s French toast, which is always a treat. I hadn’t been to St. John’s in eight years, and it had changed quite a bit. Some areas had expanded (Torbay Road past Stavanger Drive), and others were shells of their former selves (Churchill Square). After noticing the small mountains around us every day, I realized that I took the beauty of St. John’s for granted when I lived there. On the day we went whale watching, Ally saw distant whales; dolphins and puffins up close; an iceberg, and a moose. She also got screeched in. I was glad she was able to have a genuine (if not stereotypical) Newfoundland experience, and she’s asked me a few times when we’re going to move there. So…I think that counts as a success!

 

After five and a half days in Newfoundland, we flew to Nova Scotia while Mom stayed behind. My other grandmother picked us up and drove us to her cottage, where I spent a few weeks of the summer for most of my pre-adult years. It had been five years since I’d been there, too, so it was nice to be back. We spent a lot of time walking along the beach collecting glass, eating copious amounts of cookies, and relaxing after a faster-paced week in St. John’s. We also went to PEI and I got a few chances to nerd out over the ferries again. Being on ships or boats turned out to be a theme for the trip, actually; having sailed on the Atlantic Vision; the Atlantic Whaler; the Holiday Island and the Confederation. It was nice to get back out on the ocean, even if only for a little while. It was also fun to write my third trip journal, which I can’t share because it’s too Terrance-and-Phillip-esque, hahaha.

 

When we got back from the East Coast, Ally decided that she wanted to buy a car…so we went to a dealer and she took a few out for a drive, but it fell through. A little while later, though, she had the idea that I could sell her my car and I could buy a new one. At least I think it was her idea. So I started researching.

 

August involved a lot of walking around my neighborhood in the longest heat wave I've experienced, sitting on hills at Riverdale Park and Greenwood Park with a bottle of Gatorade, absorbing all the heat that I couldn’t get while living in Newfoundland.

 

At the end of August, I started training for a new contract position at my job in Milton, which was the opportunity I had been looking for. I did dozens of interviews, learned how to handle referrals, and finally got comfortable using the phone. Although the contract is almost over now, I’ve felt a lot more self-efficacy with this job; like it’s a better match for my personality and natural skills. I received a lot of positive feedback from my co-workers, too, which is nice. I won’t make any predictions about what the future holds, because who ever thought I would end up working in the addiction field… but for now I’ll be focusing my job search on intake roles.

 

Anyway, after weeks of meticulous research and/or stalling, at the end of September I bought an almost-new Toyota for myself and sold the Honda to Ally. I thought it was going to be a really sad experience for me, since the Honda was my first car and I drove it for six and a half years…but I didn’t really feel anything except relief. It was time to say goodbye to fast-warping brakes, a lack of air conditioning, and a clunk every time I hit bumps. It’s nice to no longer have to brace myself while wondering “is this pothole going to be the one?”

 

Oh, and I also turned 30.

 

I got caught up in the Blue Jays post-season hype, which is rare for me, as a person who historically gave no shits about sports because the kids who liked sports used to make fun of me while I was growing up.

 

I also got caught up (rightfully so) in the Canadian election fever. On the night of the election, I went out and cast my ballot NDP orange, and told Ally as I went to bed “No matter what you see on Facebook or hear via text message, do not tell me who won the election, because if it’s Harper, I’ll be miserable and won’t be able to sleep, and if it’s Trudeau or Mulcair, I’ll be thrilled and won’t be able to sleep.” So the next morning I got up, got on the Internet and saw that Trudeau had won…and all was right with the world. Finally, our scientist-muzzling, heavy-handed oil promoting Prime Minister was gone, and anyone-but-him was in. If you can’t get perfection, progress is a good alternative.

 

In November I bought a sketchbook and did a bunch of little paintings. I also got caught up with the Paris massacre and groaned at the online conversation designed to make people feel guilty for feeling worse for the Paris terror victims than for terror victims in other countries. We feel most for those who we relate to the most, and that’s all there is to it.

 

Aaaand a few of you just stopped reading. That’s okay; I don’t expect everyone to agree with me. Terrorism, gun control, Donald Trump, refugees! Lots o’ women in Cabinet ‘cause it’s 2015! Believing what you want; having some conservative beliefs and some liberal beliefs? Not being able to identify as strictly conservative or strictly progressive? That's me!

 

That’s the end of the chronological tale, so here are a few other little pieces that I’ll include because I’ve touched on these topics during my previous year-end summaries:

 

In terms of food, I made my own pizza from scratch for the first time in February. It was really bland, so I think I need to add a lot more salt next time. I also learned how to make garlic butter sauce (I know, right?), naan wraps, and peanut butter cookies with chocolate in the middle. Not too adventurous this year in terms of cooking, but at least I learned a few things!

 

This was also a relatively unadventurous year in terms of music. I downloaded Jon LaJoie’s two albums, briefly got into Amy Winehouse after watching the movie, and got “Hotline Bling” stuck in my head on more than 10 occasions, but that’s about it. I didn’t buy a single CD this year. I didn't record many songs this year, either!

 

Something something hotline bling!

Something something mean one thing!

 

Oh right, back to the summary!

 

I didn’t do a whole lot of planned photography this year, and that’s followed a general trend that began when I got my iPhone back in 2011. I only took about 3,200 pictures this year, and only uploaded 77 to Flickr. I think that's better than my 2012 number, but now that Flickr removed the easy-to-use Archive system in favor of their terrible Camera Roll" feature, Flickr no longer does the counting for me and I have to count picture by picture.

 

Books are my Laundromat companions, in that most of the reading I’ve done in the last year has been at the Laundromat. This year I finished The Demon-Haunted World (which I started in 2014), and read Sh*t My Dad Says, The Sky Is Not The Limit, Trauma and the Twelve Steps, and Food Junkies. I just started An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth.

 

Other than Seinfeld, in terms of TV shows I also got into Downton Abbey and Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee, and I was happy to see that Stephen Colbert has largely held onto his Colbert Report persona in his new show.

 

Other than a shitty start, most of 2015 was pretty good for me. I spent New Year’s Eve with Ally, eating, watching Barack Obama on Comedians in Cars, and watching Seinfeld after a busy afternoon at work. Next year’s resolutions: Learn to make fudge, and start jogging to work off the fudge!

 

Oh yeah, and maybe a few other resolutions:

-Get a full-time permanent job

-Go on at least one trip with Ally if time permits

-Play my electric guitar more often

-Read more books

-Maybe start singing in front of Ally again

 

Thanks for reading! Hope you have a great 2016!

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IMG_1017011ps

There are three churches near to home that I feel I needed to revisit, St Margaret's itself I should be able to get the key from the village shop at any time, but St Mary in Dover hasn't been open the last few times I have been in town, and Barfrestone was closed most of the year due to vandalism.

 

But Saturday morning there is usually a coffee morning in St Mary, so I went down armed with camera and lenses to take more shots of the details, especially of the windows.

 

This is one dedicated to the search and rescue pilots and the MTBs that rescued ditched pilots during the Battle of Britain. Very colourful.

 

Many more shots to come, I took some 150 shots here.

 

But that was nothing compared to how many I took at Barfrestone.....

 

--------------------------------------------

 

In the heart of the town with a prominent twelfth-century tower. From the outside it is obvious that much work was carried out in the nineteenth century. The church has major connections with the Lord Wardens of the Cinque Ports and is much used for ceremonial services. The western bays of the nave with their low semi-circular arches are contemporary with the tower, while the pointed arches to the east are entirely nineteenth century. The scale and choice of stone is entirely wrong, although the carving is very well done. However the east end, with its tall narrow lancet windows, is not so successful. The Royal Arms, of the reign of William and Mary, are of carved and painted wood, with a French motto - Jay Maintendray - instead of the more usual Dieu et Mon Droit. The church was badly damaged in the Second World War, but one of the survivors was the typical Norman font of square Purbeck marble construction. One of the more recent additions to the church is the Herald of Free Enterprise memorial window of 1989 designed by Frederick Cole.

 

www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Dover+1

 

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THE TOWN AND PORT OF DOVER.

DOVER lies at the eastern extremity of Kent, adjoining to the sea, the great high London road towards France ending at it. It lies adjoining to the parish of Charlton last-described, eastward, in the lath of St. Augustine and eastern division of the county. It is within the liberty of the cinque ports, and the juristion of the corporation of the town and port of Dover.

 

DOVER, written in the Latin Itinerary of Antonine, Dubris. By the Saxons, Dorsa, and Dofris. By later historians, Doveria; and in the book of Domesday, Dovere; took its name most probably from the British words, Dufir, signifying water, or Dusirrha, high and steep, alluding to the cliffs adjoining to it. (fn. 1)

 

It is situated at the extremity of a wide and spacious valley, inclosed on each side by high and steep hills or cliffs, and making allowance for the sea's withdrawing itself from between them, answers well to the description given of it by Julius Cæfar in his Commentaries.

 

In the middle space, between this chain of high cliffs, in a break or opening, lies the town of Dover and its harbour, which latter, before the sea was shut out, so late as the Norman conquest, was situated much more within the land than it is at present, as will be further noticed hereafter.

 

ON THE SUMMIT of one of these cliffs, of sudden and stupendous height, close on the north side of the town and harbour, stands DOVER CASTLE, so famous and renowned in all the histories of former times. It is situated so exceeding high, that it is at most times plainly to be seen from the lowest lands on the coast of France, and as far beyond as the eye can discern. Its size, for it contains within it thirty five acres of ground, six of which are taken up by the antient buildings, gives it the appearance of a small city, having its citadel conspicuous in the midst of it, with extensive fortifications, around its walls. The hill, or rather rock, on which it stands, is ragged and steep towards the town and harbour; but towards the sea, it is a perpendicular precipice of a wonderful height, being more than three hundred and twenty feet high, from its basis on the shore.

 

Common tradition supposes, that Julius Cæfar was the builder of this castle, as well as others in this part of Britain, but surely without a probability of truth; for our brave countrymen found Cæfar sufficient employment of a far different sort, during his short stay in Britain, to give him any opportunity of erecting even this one fortress. Kilburne says, there was a tower here, called Cæsar's tower, afterwards the king's lodgings; but these, now called the king's keep, were built by king Henry II. as will be further mentioned hereafter; and he further says, there were to be seen here great pipes and casks bound with iron hoops, in which was liquor supposed to be wine, which by long lying had become as thick as treacle, and would cleave like birdlime; salt congealed together as hard as stone; cross and long bows and arrows, to which brass was fastened instead of feathers, and they were of such size, as not to be fit for the use of men of that or any late ages. These, Lambarde says, the inhabitants shewed as having belonged to Cæfar, and the wine and salt as part of the provision he had brought with him hither; and Camden relates, that he was shewn these arrows, which he thinks were such as the Romans used to shoot out of their engines, which were like to large crossbows. These last might, no doubt, though not Cæsar's, belong to the Romans of a later time; and the former might, perhaps, be part of the provisions and stores which king Henry VIII. laid in here, at a time when he passed from hence over sea to France. But for many years past it has not been known what is become of any of these things.

 

Others, averse to Cæsar's having built this castle, and yet willing to give the building of it to the empire of the Romans of a later time, suppose, and that perhaps with some probability, it was first erected by Arviragus, (or Arivog, as he is called on his coin) king of Britain, in the time of Claudius, the Roman emperor. (fn. 2)

 

That there was one built here, during the continuance of the Roman empire in Britain, must be supposed from the necessity of it, and the circumstances of those times; and the existence of one plainly appears, from the remains of the tower and other parts of the antient church within it, and the octagon tower at the west end, in which are quantities of Roman brick and tile. These towers are evidently the remains of Roman work, the former of much less antiquity than the latter, which may be well supposed to have been built as early as the emperor Claudius, whose expedition hither was about or immediately subsequent to the year of Christ 44. Of these towers, probably the latter was built for a speculum, or watch-tower, and was used, not only to watch the approach of enemies, but with another on the opposite hill, to point out the safe entrance into this port between them, by night as well as by day.

 

In this fortress, the Romans seem afterwards to have kept a garrison of veterans, as we learn from Pancirollus, who tells us that a company of soldiers under their chief, called Præpositus Militum Tungricanorum, was stationed within this fortess.

 

Out of the remains of part of the above-mentioned Roman buildings here, a Christian church was erected, as most historians write, by Lucius, king of Britain, about the year 161; but it is much to be doubted whether there ever was such a king in Britain; if there was, he was only a tributary chief to the Roman emperor, under whose peculiar government Britain was then accounted. This church was built, no doubt, for the use of that part of the garrison in particular, who were at that time believers of the gospel, and afterwards during the different changes of the Christian and Pagan religions in these parts, was made use of accordingly, till St. Augustine, soon after the year 597, at the request of king Ethelbert, reconsecrated it, and dedicated it anew, in honour of the blessed Virgin Mary.

 

¶His son and successor Eadbald, king of Kent, founded a college of secular canons and a provost in this church, whose habitations, undoubtedly near it, there are not the least traces of. These continued here till after the year 691; when Widred, king of Kent, having increated the fortifications, and finding the residence of the religious within them an incumbrance, removed them from hence into the town of Dover, to the antient church of St. Martin; in the description of which hereafter, a further account of them will be given.

  

DOVER does not seem to have been in much repute as a harbour, till some time after Cæsar's expedition hither; for the unfitness, as well as insecurity of the place, especially for a large fleet of shipping, added to the character which he had given of it, deterred the Romans from making a frequent use of it, so that from Boleyne, or Gessoriacum, their usual port in Gaul, they in general failed with their fleets to Richborough, or Portus Rutupinus, situated at the mouth of the Thames, in Britain, and thence back again; the latter being a most safe and commodious haven, with a large and extensive bay.

 

Notwithstanding which, Dover certainly was then made use of as a port for smaller vessels, and a nearer intercourse for passengers from the continent; and to render the entrance to it more safe, the Romans built two Specula, or watch-towers, here, on the two hills opposite to each other, to point out the approach to it, and one likewise on the opposite hill at Bologne, for the like purpose there; and it is mentioned as a port by Antoninus, in his Itinerary, in which, ITER III. is A Londinio ad Portum Dubris, i. e. from London to the port of Dover.

 

After the departure of the Romans from Britain, when the port of Bologne, as well as Richborough, fell into decay and disuse, and instead of the former a nearer port came into use, first at Whitsan, and when that was stopped up, a little higher at Calais, Dover quickly became the more usual and established port of passage between France and Britain, and it has continued so to the present time.

 

When the antient harbour of Dover was changed from its antient situation is not known; most probably by various occurrences of nature, the sea left it by degrees, till at last the farmer scite of it became entirely swallowed up by the beach. That the harbour was much further within land, even at the time of the conquest than it is at present, seems to be confirmed by Domesday, in which it is said, that at the entrance of it, there was a mill which damaged almost every ship that passed by it, on account of the great swell of the sea there. Where the scite of this mill was, is now totally unknown, though it is probable it was much within the land, and that by the still further accumulation of the beach, and other natural causes, this haven was in process of time so far filled up towards the inland part of it, as to change its situation still more to the south-west, towards the sea.

 

From the time of the Norman conquest this port continued the usual passage to the continent, and to confine the intercourse to this port only, there was a statute passed anno 4 Edward IV. that none should take shipping for Calais, but at Dover. (fn. 20) But in king Henry VII.'s time, which was almost the next reign, the harbour was become so swerved up, as to render it necessary for the king's immediate attention, to prevent its total ruin, and he expended great sums of money for its preservation. But it was found, that all that was done, would not answer the end proposed, without the building of a pier to seaward, which was determined on about the middle of Henry VIII.'s reign, and one was constructed, which was compiled of two rows of main posts, and great piles, which were let into holes hewn in the rock underneath, and some were shod with iron, and driven down into the main chalk, and fastened together with iron bands and bolts. The bottom being first filled up with great rocks of stone, and the remainder above with great chalk stones, beach, &c. During the whole of this work, the king greatly encouraged the undertaking, and came several times to view it; and in the whole is said to have expended near 63,000l. on it. But his absence afterwards abroad, his ill health, and at last his death, joined to the minority of his successor, king Edward VI. though some feeble efforts were made in his reign, towards the support of this pier, put a stop to, and in the end exposed this noble work to decay and ruin.

 

Queen Mary, indeed, attempted to carry it on again, but neither officers nor workmen being well paid, it came to nothing, so that in process of time the sea having brought up great quantities of beach again upon it, the harbour was choaked up, and the loss of Calais happening about the same time, threatened the entire destruction of it. Providentially the shelf of beach was of itself became a natural defence against the rage of the sea, insomuch, that if a passage could be made for ships to get safely within it, they might ride there securely.

 

To effect this, several projects were formed, and queen Elizabeth, to encourage it, gave to the town the free transportation of several thousand quarters of corn and tuns of beer; and in the 23d of her reign, an act passed for giving towards the repair of the harbour, a certain tonnage from every vessel above twenty tons burthen, passing by it, which amounted to 1000l. yearly income; and the lord Cobham, then lordwarden, and others, were appointed commissioners for this purpose; and in the end, after many different trials to effect it, a safe harbour was formed, with a pier, and different walls and sluices, at a great expence; during the time of which a universal diligence and public spirit appeared in every one concerned in this great and useful work. During the whole of the queen's reign, the improvement of this harbour continued without intermission, and several more acts passed for that purpose; but the future preservation of it was owing to the charter of incorporation of the governors of it, in the first year of king James I. by an act passed that year, by the name of the warden and assistants of the harbour of Dover, the warden being always the lord-warden of the cinque ports for the time being, and his assistants, his lieutenant, and the mayor of Dover, for the time being, and eight others, the warden and assistants only making a quorum; six to be present to make a session; at any of which, on a vacancy, the assistants to be elected; and the king granted to them his land or waste ground, or beach, commonly called the Pier, or Harbour ground, as it lay without Southgate, or Snargate, the rents of which are now of the yearly value of about three hundred pounds.

 

Under the direction of this corporation, the works and improvements of this harbour have been carried on, and acts of parliament have been passed in almost every reign since, to give the greater force to their proceedings.

 

From what has been said before, the reader will observe, that this harbour has always been a great national object, and that in the course of many ages, prodigious sums of money have been from time to time expended on it, and every endeavour used to keep it open, and render it commodious; but after all these repeated endeavours and expences, it still labours under such circumstances, as in a very great degree renders unsuccessful all that has ever been done for that purpose.

 

DOVER, as has been already mentioned, was of some estimation in the time of the Roman empire in Britain, on account of its haven, and afterwards for the castle, in which they kept a strong garrison of sol. diers, not only to guard the approach to it, but to keep the natives in subjection; and in proof of their residence here, the Rev. Mr. Lyon some years since discovered the remains of a Roman structure, which he apprehended to have been a bath, at the west end of the parish-church of St. Mary, in this town, which remains have since repeatedly been laid open when interments have taken place there.

 

This station of the Romans is mentioned by Antonine, in his Itinerary of the Roman roads in Britain, by the name of Dubris, as being situated from the station named Durovernum, or Canterbury, fourteen miles; which distance, compared with the miles as they are now numbered from Canterbury, shews the town, as well as the haven, for they were no doubt contiguous to each other, to have both been nearer within land than either of them are at present, the present distance from Canterbury being near sixteen miles as the road now goes, The sea, indeed, seems antiently to have occupied in great part the space where the present town of Dover, or at least the northwest part of it, now stands; but being shut out by the quantity of beach thrown up, and the harbour changed by that means to its present situation, left that place a dry ground, on which the town of Dover, the inhabitants following the traffic of the harbour, was afterwards built.

 

This town, called by the Saxons, Dofra, and Dofris; by later historians, Doveria; and in Domesday, Dovere; is agreed by all writers to have been privileged before the conquest; and by the survey of Domesday, appears to have been of ability in the time of king Edward the Confessor, to arm yearly twenty vessels for sea service. In consideration of which, that king granted to the inhabitants, not only to be free from the payment of thol and other privileges throughout the realm, but pardoned them all manner of suit and service to any of his courts whatsoever; and in those days, the town seems to have been under the protection and government of Godwin, earl of Kent, and governor of this castle.

 

Soon after the conquest, this town was so wasted by fire, that almost all the houses were reduced to ashes, as appears by the survey of Domesday, at the beginning of which is the following entry of it:

 

DOVERE, in the time of king Edward, paid eighteen pounds, of which money, king E had two parts, and earl Goduin the third. On the other hand, the canons of St. Martin had another moiety. The burgesses gave twenty ships to the king once in the year, for fifteen days; and in each ship were twenty and one men. This they did on the account that he had pardoned them sac and soc. When the messengers of the king came there, they gave for the passage of a horse three pence in winter, and two in summer. But the burgesses found a steerman, and one other assistant, and if there should be more necessary, they were provided at his cost. From the festival of St. Michael to the feast of St. Andrew, the king's peace was in the town. Sigerius had broke it, on which the king's bailiff had received the usual fine. Whoever resided constantly in the town paid custom to the king; he was free from thol throughout England. All these customs were there when king William came into England. On his first arrival in England, the town itself was burnt, and therefore its value could not be computed how much it was worth, when the bishop of Baieux received it. Now it is rated at forty pounds, and yet the bailiff pays from thence fifty-four pounds to the king; of which twenty-four pounds in money, which were twenty in an one, but thirty pounds to the earl by tale.

 

In Dovere there are twenty-nine plats of ground, of which the king had lost the custom. Of these Robert de Romenel has two. Ralph de Curbespine three. William, son of Tedald, one. William, son of Oger, one. William, son of Tedold, and Robert niger, six. William, son of Goisfrid, three, in which the guildhall of the burgesses was. Hugo de Montfort one house. Durand one. Rannulf de Colubels one. Wadard six. The son of Modbert one. And all these vouch the bishop of Baieux as the protector and giver of these houses. Of that plat of ground, which Rannulf de Colubels holds, which was a certain outlaw, they agree that the half of the land was the king's, and Rannulf himself has both parts. Humphry the lame man holds one plat of ground, of which half the forfeiture is the king's. Roger de Ostrabam made a certain house over the king's water, and held to this time the custom of the king; nor was a house there in the time of king Edward. In the entrance of the port of Dovere, there is one mill, which damages almost every ship, by the great swell of the sea, and does great damage to the king and his tenants; and it was not there in the time of king Edward. Concerning this, the grandson of Herbert says, that the bishop of Baieux granted it to his uncle Herbert, the son of Ivo.

 

And a little further, in the same record, under the bishop's possessions likewise:

 

In Estrei hundred, Wibertus holds half a yoke, which lies in the gild of Dover, and now is taxed with the land of Osbert, the son of Letard, and is worth per annum four shillings.

 

From the Norman conquest, the cities and towns of this realm appear to have been vested either in the crown, or else in the clergy or great men of the laity, and they were each, as such, immediately lords of the same. Thus, when the bishop of Baieux, to whom the king had, as may be seen by the above survey, granted this town, was disgraced. It returned into the king's hands by forfeiture, and king Richard I. afterwards granted it in ferme to Robt. Fitz-bernard. (fn. 21)

 

After the time of the taking of the survey of Domesday, the harbour of Dover still changing its situation more to the south-westward, the town seems to have altered its situation too, and to have been chiefly rebuilt along the sides of the new harbour, and as an encouragement to it, at the instance, and through favour especially to the prior of Dover, king Edward I. in corporated this town, the first that was so of any of the cinque ports, by the name of the mayor and commonalty. The mayor to be chosen out of the latter, from which body he was afterwards to chuse the assistants for his year, who were to be sworn for that purpose. At which time, the king had a mint for the coinage of money here; and by patent, anno 27 of that reign, the table of the exchequer of money was appointed to be held here, and at Yarmouth. (fn. 22) But the good effects of these marks of the royal favour were soon afterwards much lessened, by a dreadful disaster; for the French landed here in the night, in the 23d year of that reign, and burnt the greatest part of the town, and several of the religious houses, in it, and this was esteemed the more treacherousk, as it was done whilst the two cardinals were here, treating for a peace between England and France; which misfortune, however, does not seem to have totally impoverished it, for in the 17th year of the next reign of king Edward II it appears in some measure to have recovered its former state, and to have been rebuilt, as appears by the patent rolls of that year, in which the town of Dover is said to have then had in it twenty-one wards, each of which was charged with one ship for the king's use; in consideration of which, each ward had the privilege of a licensed packetboat, called a passenger, from Dover across the sea to Whitsan, in France, the usual port at that time of embarking from thence.

 

The state of this place in the reign of Henry VIII. is given by Leland, in his Itinerary, as follows:

 

"Dovar ys xii myles fro Canterbury and viii fro Sandwich. Ther hath bene a haven yn tyme past and yn taken ther of the ground that lyith up betwyxt the hilles is yet in digging found wosye. Ther hath bene found also peeces of cabelles and anchores and Itinerarium Antonini cawlyth hyt by the name of a haven. The towne on the front toward the se hath bene right strongly walled and embateled and almost al the residew; but now yt is parly fawlen downe and broken downe. The residew of the towne as far as I can perceyve was never waulled. The towne is devided into vi paroches. Wherof iii be under one rose at S. Martines yn the hart of the town. The other iii stand that yt hath be walled abowt but not dyked. The other iii stand abrode, of the which one is cawled S. James of Rudby or more likely Rodeby a statione navium. But this word ys not sufficient to prove that Dovar showld be that place, the which the Romaynes cawlled Portus Rutupi or Rutupinum. For I cannot yet se the contrary but Retesboro otherwise cawlled Richeboro by Sandwich, both ways corruptly, must neades be Rutupinum. The mayne strong and famose castel of Dovar stondeth on the loppe of a hille almost a quarter of a myle of fro the towne on the lyst side and withyn the castel ys a chapel, yn the sides wherof appere sum greate Briton brykes. In the town was a great priory of blacke monkes late suppressed. There is also an hospitalle cawlled the Meason dew. On the toppe of the hye clive betwene the towne and the peere remayneth yet abowt a slyte shot up ynto the land fro the very brymme of the se clysse as ruine of a towr, the which has bene as a pharos or a mark to shyppes on the se and therby was a place of templarys. As concerning the river of Dovar it hath no long cowrse from no spring or hedde notable that descendith to that botom. The principal hed, as they say is at a place cawled Ewelle and that is not past a iii or iiii myles fro Dovar. Ther be springes of frech waters also at a place cawled Rivers. Ther is also a great spring at a place cawled …… and that once in a vi or vii yeres brasted owt so abundantly that a great part of the water cummeth into Dovar streme, but als yt renneth yn to the se betwyxt Dovar and Folchestan, but nerer to Folchestan that is to say withyn a ii myles of yt. Surely the hedde standeth so that it might with no no great cost be brought to run alway into Dovar streame." (fn. 23)

Cougate Crosse-gate Bocheruy-gate stoode with toures toward the se. There is beside Beting-gate and Westegate.

Howbeyt MTuine tol me a late that yt hath be walled abowt but not dyked.

 

This was the state of Dover just before the time of the dissolution of religious houses, in Henry VIII.'s reign, when the abolition of private masses, obits, and such like services in churches, occasioned by the reformation, annillilated the greatest part of the income of the priests belonging to them, in this as well as in other towns, in consequence of which most of them were deserted, and falling to ruin, the parishes belonging to them were united to one or two of the principal ones of them. Thus, in this town, of the several churches in it, two only remained in use for divine service, viz. St. Mary's and St. James's, to which the parishes of the others were united.

 

After this, the haven continuting to decay more than ever, notwithstanding the national assistance afforded to it, the town itself seemed hastening to impoverishment. What the state of it was in the 8th year of queen Elizabeth, may be seen, by the certificate returned by the queen's order of the maritime places, in her 8th year, by which it appears that there were then in Dover, houses inhabited three hundred and fifty-eight; void, or lack of inhabiters, nineteen; a mayor, customer, comptroller of authorities, not joint but several; ships and crayers twenty, from four tons to one hundred and twenty.

 

¶This probable ruin of the town, however, most likely induced the queen, in her 20th year, to grant it a new charter of incorporation, in which the manner of chusing mayor, jurats, and commoners, and of making freemen, was new-modelled, and several surther liberties and privileges granted, and those of the charter of king Edward I. confirmed likewise by inspeximus. After which, king Charles II. in his 36th year, anno 1684, granted to it a new charter, which, however, was never inrolled in chancery, and in consequence of a writ of quo warranto was that same year surrendered, and another again granted next year; but this last, as well as another charter granted by king James II. and forced on the corporation, being made wholly subservient to the king's own purposes, were annulled by proclamation, made anno 1688, being the fourth and last year of his reign: but none of the above charters being at this time extant, (the charters of this corporation, as well as those of the other cinque ports, being in 1685, by the king's command, surrendered up to Col. Strode, then governor of Dover castle, and never returned again, nor is it known what became of them,) Dover is now held to be a corporation by prescription, by the stile of the mayor, jurats, and commonalty of the town and port of Dover. It consists at present of a mayor, twelve jurats, and thirty-six commoners, or freemen, together with a chamberlain, recorder, and town-clerk. The mayor, who is coroner by virtue of his office, is chosen on Sept. 8, yearly, in St. Mary's church, and together with the jurats, who are justices within this liberty, exclusive of all others, hold a court of general sessions of the peace and gaol delivery, together with a court of record, and it has other privileges, mostly the same as the other corporations, within the liberties of the cinque ports. It has the privilege of a mace. The election of mayor was antiently in the church of St. Peter, whence in 1581 it was removed to that of St. Mary, where it has been, as well as the elections of barons to serve in parliament, held ever since. These elections here, as well as elsewhere in churches, set apart for the worship of God, are certainly a scandal to decency and religion, and are the more inexcusable here, as there is a spacious court-hall, much more fit for the purposes. After this, there was another byelaw made, in June, 1706, for removing these elections into the court-hall; but why it was not put in execution does not appear, unless custom prevented it—for if a decree was of force to move them from one church to another, another decree was of equal force to remove them from the church to the courthall. Within these few years indeed, a motion was made in the house of commons, by the late alderman Sawbridge, a gentlemand not much addicted to speak in favour of the established church, to remove all such elections, through decency, from churches to other places not consecrated to divine worship; but though allowed to be highly proper, yet party resentment against the mover of it prevailed, and the motion was negatived by a great majority.

 

The mayor is chosen by the resident freemen. The jurats are nominated from the common-councilmen by the jurats, and appointed by the mayor, jurats, and common-councilmen, by ballot.

  

THE CHURCH OF ST. Mary stands at some distance from the entrance into this town from Canterbury, near the market-place. It is said to have been built by the prior and convent of St. Martin, (fn. 47) in the year 1216; but from what authority, I know not.—Certain it is, that it was in king John's reign, in the gift of the king, and was afterwards given by him to John de Burgh; but in the 8th year of Richard II.'s reign, anno 1384, it was become appropriated to the abbot of Pontiniac. After which, by what means, I cannot discover, this appropriation, as well as the advowson of the church, came into the possession of the master and brethren of the hospital of the Maison Dieu, who took care that the church should be daily served by a priest, who should officiate in it for the benefit of the parish. In which state it continued till the suppression of the hospital, in the 36th year of king Henry VIII.'s reign, when it came into the hands of the crown, at which time the parsonage was returned by John Thompson, master of the hospital, to be worth six pounds per annum.

 

Two years after which, the king being at Dover, at the humble entreaty of the inhabitants of this parish, gave to them, as it is said, this church, with the cemetery adjoining to it, to be used by them as a parochial church; at the same time he gave the pews of St. Martin's church for the use of it; and on the king's departure, in token of possession, they sealed up the church doors; since which, the patronage of it, which is now esteemed as a perpetual curacy, the minister of it being licensed by the archbishop, has been vested in the inhabitants of this parish. Every parishioner, paying scot and lot, having a vote in the chusing of the minister, whose maintenance had been from time to time, at their voluntary option, more or less. It is now fixed at eighty pounds per annum. Besides which he has the possession of a good house, where he resides, which was purchased by the inhabitants in 1754, for the perpetual use of the minister of it. It is exempt from the jurisdiction of the archdeacon. (fn. 48)

 

There is a piece of ground belonging, as it is said, to the glebe of this church, rented annually at ten pounds, which is done by vestry, without the minister being at all concerned in it. In 1588 here were eight hundred and twenty-one communicants. This parish contains more than five parts out of six of the whole town, and a greater proportion of the inhabitants.

 

The church of St. Mary is a large handsome building of three isles, having a high and south chancel, all covered with lead, and built of flints, with ashler windows and door cases, which are arched and ornamented. At the west end is the steeple, which is a spire covered with lead, in which are eight bells, a clock, and chimes. The pillars in the church are large and clumsy; the arches low and semicircular in the body, but eliptical in the chancel; but there is no separation between the body and chancel, and the pews are continued on to the east end of the church. In the high chancel, at the eastern extremity of it, beyond the altar, are the seats for the mayor and jurats; and here the mayor is now chosen, and the barons in parliament for this town and port constantly elected.

 

In 1683, there was a faculty granted to the churchwardens, to remove the magistrates seats from the east end of the church to the north side, or any other more convenient part of it, and for the more decent and commodious placing the communion table: in consequence of which, these seats were removed, and so placed, but they continued there no longer than 1689, when, by several orders of vestry, they were removed back again to where they remain at present.

 

The mayor was antiently chosen in St. Peter's church; but by a bye-law of the corporation, it was removed to this church in 1583, where it has ever since been held. In 1706, another bye law was made, to remove, for the sake of decency, all elections from this church to the court-hall, but it never took place. More of which has been mentioned before.

 

From the largeness, as well as the populousness of this parish, the church is far from being sufficient to contain the inhabitants who resort to it for public worship, notwithstanding there are four galleries in it, and it is otherwise well pewed. This church was paved in 1642, but it was not ceiled till 1706. In 1742, there was an organ erected in it. The two branches in it were given, one by subscription in 1738, and the other by the pilots in 1742.

 

Thomas Toke, of Dover, buried in the chapel of St. Katharine, in this church, by his will in 1484, gave seven acres of land at Dugate, under Windlass-down, to the wardens of this church, towards the repairs of it for ever.

 

¶The monuments and memorials in this church and church yard, are by far too numerous to mention here. Among them are the following: A small monument in the church for the celebrated Charles Churchill, who was buried in the old church-yard of St. Martin in this town, as has been noticed before; and a small stone, with a memorial for Samuel Foote, esq. the celebrated comedian, who died at the Ship inn, and had a grave dug for him in this church, but was afterwards carried to London, and buried there. A monument and several memorials for the family of Eaton; arms, Or, a sret, azure. A small tablet for John Ker, laird of Frogden, in Twit dale, in Scotland, who died suddenly at Dover, in his way to France, in 1730. Two monuments for Farbrace, arms, Azure, a bend, or, between two roses, argent, seeded, or, bearded vert. A monument in the middle isle, to the memory of the Minet family. In the north isle are several memorials for the Gunmans, of Dover; arms,. … a spread eagle, argent, gorged with a ducal coronet, or. There are others, to the memory of Broadley, Rouse, and others, of good account in this town.

 

www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-kent/vol9/pp475-548

Catching up on some back shots from the beginning of the year

 

On a walk around the Addington Cemetery with a wonderful Flickr friend. February 13, 2016 Christchurch New Zealand.

 

There is so much damaged in the cemetery because of the earthquake we have had. It is such a pity as I don' think it will ever be fully repaired.

 

The Addington Cemetery was established in 1858 when the Scottish Presbyterians of St Andrew’s Church purchased land for a cemetery in Selwyn Street. Although not the first cemetery in Christchurch, Addington was in fact the first “public” cemetery, “being open to all persons of any religious community” and allowing the performance of any religious service “not contrary to public decency”.

 

The first burial took place on the 10th of November 1858. The cemetery has several persons of note buried within its grounds including activist Kate Sheppard, Christchurch Mayor Tommy Taylor and members of the pioneer family, the Deans.

For More Info:http://my.christchurchcitylibraries.com/addington-cemetery/

Joe Biden has been a good president. I am grateful to him for replacing Trump with decency, grace and skill, but his performance in last week's debate was simply horrible. If he stays in the race, Trump will beat him and democracy here in the USA will be at risk. It's really not about age or wrinkles, it is about vigor and capacity. Time to step aside so a different candidate can prevent another Trump presidency.

 

You will find 200+ of my poems HERE. fno.org/poetry/index.html

  

Wrinkles

 

As age creeps up

Upon us

All of us

Eventually

Think about

And notice wrinkles

Some from smiles

Others from frowns

As well as those wrinkles on shirts

No longer ironed

Or pants

Just hung out to dry

Simply

Like some memories

Not so pleasant

Now faded

Or forgotten

We’ve erased or laid aside

As the end nears

 

We can buy age defying lotions

Can try to erase these marks of times

Of indecisions

And indiscretions

We might pretend these wrinkles are temporary

Botox them and any bad memories away

As if life would permit a clean slate

A fresh start

And a past free of blemishes

But truth is an unwilling player

History a stubborn witness

And wrinkles are here

To stay

  

© Jamie McKenzie, all rights reserved

You will find more of my poems and songs here

and in The Storm in Its Passing and Flights of Fancy.

 

My songs are at

www.youtube.com/user/edtech2008/videos

 

Hi everyone. This was my outfit for a shopping trip around the Designer Outlet at Ashford, Kent yesterday.

It was very nice to visit the Hobbs of London store wearing two of their garments! The dress is Emberley and is quite a heavy pure woollen fabric which is perfect for these colder Autumnal days. The jacket is also from Hobbs but I will be beggared if I can recall the style!

Nylons were my default setting of Gio pointed seams. I think I must have been hard wired somewhere along the line!

 

And now a Taste Warning issued by the Department for Taste, Propriety and Decency at twenty two hours forty on the 6th! There are warnings of sauce in all areas! - Yep - I finally gave in and have gone Flickr Pro. You have been warned!

Spennymoor is a town and civil parish in County Durham, England. It is south of the River Wear and is 7 mi (11 km) south of Durham. The civil parish includes the villages of Kirk Merrington, Middlestone Moor, Byers Green and Tudhoe.

 

The land on which Spennymoor now stands was once a vast expanse of moorland covered with thorn and whin bushes (Spenny Moor). In 1336 its placename was recorded as Spendingmor. The name is probably derived from the Old English or Old Norse spenning and mōr, meaning a moor with a fence or enclosure.

 

Another theory of the place-name's origin is from the Latin spina, meaning thorn (possibly from the Roman influence at Binchester) combined with the Old English or Old Norse mōr. CE Jackson, in his Place Names of Durham published in 1916 suggested a combination of the Old Norse spaan with Old English mar, meaning the moor named after the shingle-hut erected thereon.

 

Neither Britons nor Romans cultivated the moor, but on the site of Binchester, a village about 5 miles (8 km) to the southwest, the Romans built a camp around which grew up the settlement of Vinovium. The name Binchester is the usual Old English corruption or adaptation of the Roman site name.

 

St Paul's Church

This fortress must have been of great strength, for it stood on a height above the River Wear; many coins, urns, altars and pieces of Roman pottery have been found, as well as the remains of a hypocaust of the heating system. Later, Binchester became one of the "vills" of the Earl of Northumberland who held it until 1420 when it passed to the Nevilles who finally forfeited it with other lands in 1569. As is to be expected, the moor itself offers little of historical interest but it is linked with the records of Kirk Merrington, Whitworth Old Park, Binchester, Byers Green and Tudhoe, all of which form a part of the early days of Spennymoor. All these villages had common rights on the moor but, as it became denuded by increasing flocks, some of the local people were induced to relinquish their rights and so, gradually, the common became the property of just one owner – Merrington Priory. The Manor of Merrington belonged successively to the priors, monks and dean and chapter of Durham Cathedral.

 

Today, Merrington church is one of the most prominent local landmarks. It was originally built by the Normans and its splendid strategic position led to it being fortified in 1143 by the Scots intruder, William Cumyn. When he was finally attacked and overcome, the church roof was destroyed but the building remained as one of the most interesting Norman churches in the county until 1850 when it was almost wholly rebuilt – although retaining the form of its predecessor. Inside, the most interesting feature is the screen, a typical example of late-17th century work.

 

The Norman Conquest meant little to the border folk at first, for they had lived with the constant threat of massacre by raiding Picts and Danes, but then William's soldiers "laid waite" the county and distributed the Saxon nobles' estates among themselves. however, William allowed some of the previous owners to retain their lands, and one of these was Whittleworth – now Whitworth – whose first known proprietor was Thomas de Acle who held it in 1183. Nevertheless, the whole of this countryside was made desolate by William's soldiers, and for many years it was the haunt of outlaws and wild animals.

 

On 16 October 1346 David of Scotland was encamped with a great army on the hills near Durham, and raiding bands under a Douglas had been terrorising the neighbourhood. Edward lll was otherwise engaged at Crecy in France at the time, but his Queen, Phillipa, with the Archbishop of York, the Bishops of Durham, Lincoln and Carlisle, and the Lords Neville and Percy and others marched North, and with an array of 16,000 men, moved along the ridge from Auckland to Merrington. Her advance guards clashed with some of Douglas' men near Ferryhill and chased them back to the bridge at Croxdale (Sunderland Bridge). Butchers Race, one of the Five Lanes which meet at Tudhoe Crossroads, was so named after this foray. The next day the main bodies of the two armies met at Neville's Cross, near Durham, and the Scots were slaughtered. During the battle, the prior from Durham and his monks knelt on a little hillock in the Shaw Wood and prayed for an English victory while holding aloft, impaled on a spear, the Holy Corporax Cloth from the Cathedral.

 

In 1420 the Manor of Whitworth and much of the other land in the vicinity, from Raby to Brancepeth, and including Old Park, Byers Green, Newfield and Tudhoe, became Neville property, and the Earl of Westmorland (a Neville) was granted a licence from Bishop Langley to impark 40 acres at Whitworth, and so began the Whitworth park of today.

 

The moor itself comes into the record in 1615 as the result of "a general muster on the moor of all men able to bear arms within the bishopric, between the ages of 15 and 60; the gathering amounted to 8,320" (Fordyce). Some military training seems to have been given, doubtless with a view to the then unsettled state of the country due to the growing tension between Parliament and the King. Quite a few of these men must have been miners, as at that time "coale pits" were being worked at Whitworth, Byers Green and Fernhill. In 1677 the small freeholders and the local gentry divided 243 acres of the moor between themselves, an act which was confirmed by the Chancery Court. The only portion of the common that was left was a small plot reserved for the use of a spring of water.

 

Up to 1800 the moor remained largely barren and the few roads across it were dangerous. The one good road was maintained by tolls collected at turnpike gates. Some of the largest horse-race meetings in the North took place on the moor, and miners and their families attended in all their holiday splendour. These men, early industrial workers, wore their hair long and on these gala days it flowed freely over their shoulders instead of, as usually was the case, being tied in curls. Floral waistcoats and ribboned hats were worn on these highly colourful occasions.

 

Modern Spennymoor was built on mining and has its origins with the sinking of the Wittered pit in 1839. Rough houses were built for the pit workers – houses with two rooms and a loft, more like "piggeries than human habitation" according to Dodd. The first coal from Merrington Colliery was brought up in 1841; a pit with a chequered career which only prospered under the partnership of L.M Reay and R.S. Johnson, who made a fortune out of it. The trade depression of the late 19th century, however, caused its closure in 1882.

 

The coal mining at Whitworth and a small foundry at Merrington Lane were the earliest industries, but in 1853 the Weardale Iron and Coal Company opened its great ironworks at Tudhoe. As a result, many hundreds of immigrant workers came here from the Midlands and more rows of dark little houses were erected. More workers came from Wales and Lancashire, with the opening of the mine at Page Bank (ten lives were lost in a pit fire here in 1858), and with the sinking of a new pit at Tudhoe in the 1880s. The latter resulted in colliery workers' houses springing up on the main Durham Road. Slightly before that, in the 1860s, a rather advanced area of working-class housing had been erected at Tudhoe Grange, built by Marmaduke Salvin to house local workers. These houses were, unusually, semi-detached and arranged in a chequerboard layout, very much in contrast to the dreary terraces that were then the standard.

 

Although these days of rapid industrialisation and rapid growth of population were days of ignorance and squalor, they also saw the 19th century drive for education and religion. A National School was built and opened in 1841; St. Paul's Church was built at Spennymoor in 1858 and all through these formative years the non-conformist churches combined welfare work with prayer. An era of prosperity dawned in the 1860s and 1870s when the miners were earning £1 per day. Spennymoor was ringed with collieries, black furnaces and coke ovens and the new prosperity showed itself in the building of better houses and in the opening of Co-operative stores. The comparative isolation of its moorland situation ended too with the opening of a branch railway from the mainline at Ferryhill in 1876.

 

However, as always in industrial life, boom was followed by "bust" – or "near bust", and by 1879 miners' wages were down to 4s 9d a day and those of ironworkers to a mere 3s a day. On top of these economic misfortunes came the terrible explosion at Tudhoe Colliery in 1882 when 37 lives were lost. A strike, which lasted 13 weeks, paralysed the area in 1892, although out of the enforced idleness came foundations of new growth, for the machinery at the Tudhoe Iron works was then renovated and a new mill laid down. The works then possessed the largest mill in Europe, capable of rolling plates up to 13 feet in width.

 

When, in 1894, Spennymoor and its adjacent villages achieved a measure of self-government on the Spennymoor Urban District Council, the new authority found itself facing a legacy of poor housing. With few exceptions, the housing situation was little better than when Dodd had described the houses as "more like piggeries". In 1874 the then Local Government Board had reported: "Nothing could well exceed the nuisance attendant on the disposal of excrement and refuse in Spennymoor. There are entire streets without any closet accommodation whatever and in its stead open wooden boxes are placed opposite nearly every doorway for the reception of the excrement, ashes and other refuse; an arrangement which, besides being revolting to every sense of decency, is stated to be offensive in the extreme, especially in hot weather. It is impossible to walk between the rows of cottages without being convinced that the surface of the ground is to a large extent composed of the overflowing contents of these midden boxes. The back streets stand deep in filth and mud." These appalling conditions continued into the 20th century and even by 1920 fewer than 10% of the town houses had water closets. In 1923 only four houses were built and there was still massive overcrowding in back-to-back properties. In the next few years only between one and four houses were built in any year and in 1929 the housing situation was still reported as acute which, from the recorded facts, seems self-evident.

 

These squalid conditions were paralleled by the ever-uncertain economic conditions in industry. Although coalmining continued and the ironworks and engineering businesses were also providing employment, the start of the 20th century saw the start, too, of a long period of depression. The first blow was the closure in 1901 of the ironworks which had been rendered obsolete by the pace of change elsewhere. The effect of the closure was relieved by the sinking of the Dean and Chapter colliery in 1904, but the reliance on this one basic industry was to persist until the 1960s. Even before the big coal strike of 1926 the collieries had begun to close. Three closed in 1924 and the strike saw another two fail. Spennymoor became part of the Southwest Durham depressed area. Although schemes were inaugurated to relieve the gloom nothing could make up for the lack of steady employment. In 1930 the coke ovens which remained on the ironworks site were only working intermittently. Even by 1938 the situation had improved little. The Cleveland iron trade, which used the coal and coke produced at Spennymoor, was depressed. The production of these raw materials at Coulson's engineering works, Kenmir's furniture factory and newly opened brickworks at Todhills were the main, if limited, sources of employment. Unemployment was over 33%.

 

Despite the high levels of unemployment, the housing situation at last took an upturn in the 1930s when the Urban District Council began to use its wider powers to take action on unfit houses. By 1935 the first 66 Council houses had been built, and a year later the first 106 North Eastern Housing Association houses were erected on the Racecourse Estate site. Although these were the only houses built before the war, they did provide some hope and allowed the clearance of some of the worst of the squalid areas. Nevertheless, the situation remained bad and there were still far too many damp, badly lit and ventilated houses opening onto small, paved yards or back streets.

 

World War II had diverse effects upon the town. On the one hand it brought housing efforts almost to a standstill, but on the industry front it saw the resurgence of Spennymoor as a major centre. The main factor was the opening in 1941 of a Royal Ordnance Factory at Merrington Lane and since then this estate has provided a constant source of alternative employment to the coal industry. The end of World War II, however, saw this industrial activity greatly curtailed and hard times returned, although without the severity of the earlier pre-war years. The run-down of the mining industry, however, was nevertheless a serious blow.

 

On 24 December 1944, Tudhoe's cricket ground was hit by a rogue V-1 flying bomb, which had been air-launched by a German Heinkel He 111 and was aimed at Manchester. The explosion cratered the field and blew out the windows of surrounding houses and of St. Charles' Church. This was the furthest north any V-1 landed during World War II.

 

In 1963 changes were indicated and Durham County Council and then Ministry of Housing and Local Government agreed that Spennymoor should be a new "growth point" and that town centre redevelopment should take place; that the Tudhoe ironworks site should be reclaimed; that a major highway scheme should be put into hand; that the Royal Ordnance Factory Industrial Estate should be extended and that the Green Lane Industrial Estate should be developed.

 

Spennymoor shared some brief film success in the early 90's with the production of 'Anymore for Spennymore' starring a few of the locals.

 

There were, of course, early problems, but the new industries became established and, in most cases, began to expand. The coal industry has been replaced by manufacturers of consumer goods, and factories of Electrolux, Thorn Lighting and Black and Decker were established. Rothmans International also had a cigarette factory, employing more than 400 people, in Spennymoor from circa 1980 up until 2000.

 

Housing, too, has made great strides since the end of the War. By the end of 1963 over 1,120 sub-standard houses had been cleared and as many new Council houses built for letting – whilst over 400 houses had been improved by grant aid. In 1963 too there came the first private building developments to take place since back in the days of the 19th century colliery owners. The 800-house estate at Greenways and the 300-house estate at Tudhoe Grange were started, although it was not until the industrial prosperity of the 1970s that private house building reached 100 a year.

 

The greatest project came with the development of the Tudhoe ironworks site – 70 acres that was turned into the Bessemer Park Housing Estate. In 1968 work commenced on blocks of flats and houses there (comprising 1,009 household units in total) and this allowed the clearance of 500 unfit houses as well as the provision of housing for workers coming to the new factories. The blocks of flats on the Bessemer Park Housing Estate were subsequently demolished in the 1980s, due to serious problems with damp in the flats that rendered them extremely unpopular with tenants.

 

In 1966 the town opened a new bus station, between Cambridge Street and Silver Street, to relieve traffic congestion on the High Street. This bus station was subsequently redeveloped as a car park circa 1990. Also in 1966, the nearby Parkwood Shopping Precinct (which included a Woolworths and a supermarket) was opened. In 2016 it was announced that the Parkwood Precinct would be substantially redeveloped due to low tenancy rates in the shops, an escalating issue since the turn of the millennium.

Which is it: is man one of God's blunders, or is God one of man's blunders?

-- Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols (1889)

In former times, one sought to prove that there is no God -- today one indicates how the belief that there is a God arose and how this belief acquired its weight and importance: a counter-proof that there is no God thereby becomes superfluous. -- When in former times one had refuted the "proofs of the existence of God" put forward, there always remained the doubt whether better proofs might not be adduced than those just refuted: in those days atheists did not know how to make a clean sweep.

-- Friedrich Nietzsche, Daybreaks, page 95

Really unreflective people are now inwardly without Christianity, and the more moderate and reflective people of the intellectual middle class now possess only an adapted, that is to say marvelously simplified Christianity. A god who in his love arranges everything in a manner that in the end will be best for us; a god who gives to us and takes from us our virtue and our happiness, so that as a whole all is meet and fit and there is no reason for us to take life sadly, let alone exclaim against it; in short, resignation and modest demands elevated to godhead -- that is the best and most vital thing that still remains of Christianity. But one should notice that Christianity has thus crossed over into a gentle moralism: it is not so much "God, freedom and immortality" that have remained, as benevolence and decency of disposition, and the belief that in the whole universe too benevolence and decency of disposition prevail: it is the euthanasia of Christianity.

-- Friedrich Nietzsche, Daybreaks, page 92, R J Hollingdale, translator

 

As long as a man knows very well the strength and weaknesses of his teaching, his art, his religion, its power is still slight. The pupil and apostle who, blinded by the authority of the master and by the piety he feels toward him, pays no attention to the weaknesses of a teaching, a religion, and soon usually has for that reason more power than the master. The influence of a man has never yet grown great without his blind pupils. To help a perception to achieve victory often means merely to unite it with stupidity so intimately that the weight of the latter also enforces the victory of the former.

-- Friedrich Nietzsche, Human, all too Human, page 122, R J Hollingdale, translator

 

If the Christian dogmas of a revengeful God, universal sinfulness, election by divine grace and the danger of eternal damnation were true, it would be a sign of weak-mindedness and lack of character not to become a priest, apostle or hermit and, in fear and trembling, to work solely on one's own salvation; it would be senseless to lose sight of one's eternal advantage for the sake of temporal comfort. If we may assume that these things are at any rate believed true, then the everyday Christian cuts a miserable figure; he is a man who really cannot count to three, and who precisely on account of his spiritual imbecility does not deserve to be punished so harshly as Christianity promises to punish him.

-- Friedrich Nietzsche, Human, all too Human, page 116, RJ Hollingdale, translator

 

After Buddha was dead, his shadow was still shown for centuries in a cave -- a tremendous, gruesome shadow. God is dead; but given the way of men, there may still be caves for thousands of years in which his shadow will be shown. -- And we -- we still have to vanquish his shadow, too.

-- Friedrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science, page 108, Walter Kaufmann, translator

www.positiveatheism.org/hist/quotes/nietzsche.htm

A scene from the 1966 film "Press for Time", courtesy of the Buses on Screen website (www.busesonscreen.net), as former Bournemouth Corporation 1939 Leyland TD5 open-topper (FEL214) meets a Devon General Leyland Atlantean on the streets of Teignmouth (called "Tinmouth" in the film). The presence on board of Norman Wisdom causes the bus to plunge into Teignmouth harbour and sink.

 

Strangely revered in Albania and also the Isle of Man, where he was long in tax-avoiding residence, Norman Wisdom once enjoyed great popularity during the 1950s and into the mid-1960s for his brand of slapstick comedy served with a hefty dollop of pathos. Charlie Chaplin acknowledged him as a worthy comic successor, and the two native Londoners shared the experience of harsh and impoverished childhoods.

 

In a series of money-spinners for the Rank Organisation, Norman Wisdom played the part of a simpleton who reduced the world around him to chaos, but was redeemed by a basic human decency.

 

Thus it is with "Press for Time", although watching it on YouTube, I did not have the patience to see exactly how the luckless FEL214 ended up in the water. I do remember the August 1966 issue of Buses Illustrated magazine showing the bus making a dramatic splash.

 

Such a fine vehicle was a sad loss to preservation, although as bus snuff movies go, FEL214’s fate was not as dramatic as that of RM1536, which tumbled over a North Kent cliff and exploded, bringing the Young Ones sitcom to a definite end.

“Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap, but by the seeds you plant.” ~ Robert Louis Stevenson

  

"Each person has inside a basic decency and goodness. If he listens to it and acts on it, he is giving a great deal of what it is the world needs most. It is not complicated but it takes courage. It takes courage for a person to listen to his own goodness and act on it." ~ Pablo Casals

  

I spent this past week working away from home in Cape Town and was lucky enough to get a drive along the coastline to Hermanus. The rain stopped for a few hours and I saw a rainbow on the side of the road. It was very close and for the first time in my life, I saw where the rainbow touched the ground on both sides! Of course I had to stop and take a photo and think "wow! phew!".

  

Canon 6D. 17/40mm. ISO 640. F9. 1/640 sec.

Queens Of The Stone Age @ The Orbit Room, Grand Rapids, MI

 

p.s. if you are gonna post my copyrighted images elsewhere on the internet at least have the decency to credit me with them or link them back to here, or i'll probably stop posting them or at least start putting big watermarks on them.

The Delphians for Vibullius Polydeukion because of his decency. The hero of Herodes.

Freetown Christiania

Copenhagen

Denmark

French postcard by Editions Lyna, Paris, offered by Corvisart, Epinal, no. 2085. Photo: Sam Lévin.

 

French actress Brigitte Bardot (1934) died on 28 December 2025, at the age of 91. In the 1950s, she was the sex kitten of the European film industry. BB starred in 48 films, performed in numerous musical shows, and recorded 80 songs. After her retirement in 1973, she became an animal rights activist. In the coming weeks, we will continue to post a BB postcard every day to remember her as she once was.

 

Brigitte Bardot was born in Paris in 1934. Her father, Louis Bardot, had an engineering degree and worked with his father in the family business. Her mother, Ann-Marie Mucel, was 14 years younger than Brigitte's father, and they married in 1933. Brigitte's mother encouraged her daughter to take up music and dance. At the age of 13, she entered the Conservatoire Nationale de Danse to study ballet. By the time she was 15, Brigitte was trying to launch a modelling career and found herself on the cover of the French magazine Elle in May 1949. Her incredible beauty was readily apparent, and Brigitte was noticed by Roger Vadim, then an assistant to the film director Marc Allegrét. Vadim was infatuated with Bardot and encouraged her to start working as a film actress. BB was 18 when she debuted in the comedy Le Trou Normand / Crazy for Love (Jean Boyer, 1952). In the same year, she married Vadim. Brigitte wanted to marry him when she was 17, but her parents quashed any marriage plans until she turned 18. In April 1953, she attended the Cannes Film Festival, where she received massive media attention. She soon was every man's idea of the girl he'd like to meet in Paris. From 1952 to 1956, she appeared in seventeen films. Her films were generally lightweight romantic dramas in which she was cast as an ingénue or siren, often with an element of undress. In 1953, she made her first US production, Un acte d'amour / Act of Love (Anatole Litvak, 1953) with Kirk Douglas, but she continued to make films in France.

 

Roger Vadim was not content with the light fare his wife was offered. He felt Brigitte Bardot was being undersold. Looking for something more like an art film to push her as a serious actress, he showcased her in Et Dieu créa la femme / ...And God Created Woman (Roger Vadim, 1956). This film, about an immoral teenager in a respectable small-town setting, was a smash success on both sides of the Atlantic. Craig Butler at AllMovie: "It's easy enough to say that ...And God Created Woman is much more important for its historical significance than for its actual quality as a film, and that's true to an extent. The immense popularity, due to its willingness to directly embrace an exploration of sex as well as its willingness to show a degree of nudity that was remarkably daring for its day, demonstrated that audiences were willing to view subject matter that was considered too racy for the average moviegoer. This had both positive (freedom to explore, especially for the French filmmakers of the time) and negative (freedom to exploit) consequences, but its impact is undeniable. It's also true that Woman is not a great work of art, not with a story that is ultimately rather thin, some painful dialogue, and an attitude toward its characters and their sexuality that is unclear and inconsistent. Yet Woman is still fascinating, due in no small part to the presence of Brigitte Bardot in the role that made her an international star and sex symbol. She's not demonstrating great acting here, although her performance is actually good and much better than necessary, and her legendary mambo scene at the climax is nothing short of sensational." During the shooting of Et Dieu créa la femme / And God Created Woman (Roger Vadim, 1956), directed by her husband, Brigitte Bardot had an affair with her co-star Jean-Louis Trintignant, who at that time was married to French actress Stéphane Audran. Her divorce from Vadim followed, but they remained friends and collaborated in later work.

 

Et Dieu créa la femme / ...And God Created Woman (Roger Vadim, 1956) helped Brigitte Bardot's international status. The film took the USA by storm, her explosive sexuality being unlike anything seen in the States since the days of the 'flapper' in the 1920s. It gave rise to the phrase 'sex kitten', and fascination with her in America consisted of magazine photographs and dubbed over French films - good, bad or indifferent, her films drew audiences - mainly men - into theatres like lemmings. BB appeared in light comedies like Doctor at Large (Ralph Thomas, 1957) - the third of the British 'Doctor' series starring Dirk Bogarde - and Une Parisienne / La Parisienne (Michel Boisrond, 1957), which suited her acting skills best. However, she was a sensation in the crime drama En cas de malheur / Love is My Profession (Claude Autant-Lara, 1958). Hal Erickson at AllMovie: "This Brigitte Bardot vehicle ran into stiff opposition from the Catholic Legion of Decency, severely limiting its U.S. distribution. Bardot plays a nubile small-time thief named Yvette, who becomes the mistress of influential defence attorney Andre (Jean Gabin). Though Andre can shower Yvette with jewels and furs, he cannot "buy" her heart, and thus it is that it belongs to handsome young student Mazzetti (Franco Interlenghi). Alas, Yvette is no judge of human nature: attractive though Mazzetti can be, he has a dangerous and deadly side. En Cas de Malheur contains a nude scene that has since been reprinted in freeze-frame form innumerable times by both film-history books and girlie magazines." Photographer Sam Lévin's photos contributed considerably to her image of sensuality and slight immorality. One of Lévin's pictures shows Brigitte, dressed in a white corset. It is said that around 1960, postcards with this photograph outsold in Paris those of the Eiffel Tower.

 

Brigitte Bardot divorced Vadim in 1957, and in 1959 she married actor Jacques Charrier, with whom she starred in Babette s'en va-t-en guerre / Babette Goes to War (Christian-Jaque, 1959). The paparazzi preyed upon her marriage, while she and her husband clashed over the direction of her career

Her films became more substantial, but this brought a heavy pressure of dual celebrity as she sought critical acclaim while remaining a glamour model for most of the world. Vie privée / Private Life (1962), directed by Louis Malle, has more than an element of autobiography in it. James Travers at French Films: "Brigitte Bardot hadn’t quite reached the high point of her career when she agreed to make this film with high-profile New Wave film director Louis Malle. Even so, the pressure of being a living icon was obviously beginning to get to France’s sex goddess, and Vie privée is as much an attempt by Bardot to come to terms with her celebrity as anything else. Malle is clearly fascinated by Bardot, and the documentary approach he adopts for this film reinforces the impression that it is more a biography of the actress than a work of fiction. Of course, it’s not entirely biographical, but the story is remarkably close to Bardot’s own life and comes pretty close to predicting how her career would end." The scene in which, returning to her apartment, Bardot's character is harangued in the elevator by a middle-aged cleaning lady calling her offensive names was based on an actual incident, and is a resonant image of celebrity in the mid-20th century. Soon afterwards, Bardot withdrew to the seclusion of Southern France.

 

Brigitte Bardot's other husbands were German millionaire Playboy Gunter Sachs and right-wing politician Bernard d'Ormale. She is reputed to have had relationships with many other men, including Samy Frey, her co-star in La Vérité / The Truth (Henri-Georges Clouzot, 1960), and musicians Serge Gainsbourg and Sacha Distel. In 1963, Brigitte Bardot starred in Jean-Luc Godard's critically acclaimed film Le Mépris / Contempt (Jean-Luc Godard, 1963) opposite Michel Piccoli. She was also featured along with such notable actors as Alain Delon in Amours célèbres / Famous Love Affairs (Michel Boisrond, 1961) and Histoires extraordinaires /Tales of Mystery (Louis Malle, 1968), Jeanne Moreau in Viva Maria! (Louis Malle, 1965), Sean Connery in Shalako (Edward Dmytryk, 1968), and Claudia Cardinale in Les Pétroleuses / Petroleum Girls (Christian-Jaque, 1971). She participated in various musical shows and recorded many popular songs in the 1960s and 1970s, mostly in collaboration with Serge Gainsbourg, Bob Zagury and Sacha Distel, including 'Harley Davidson', 'Le Soleil De Ma Vie' (the cover of Stevie Wonder's 'You Are the Sunshine of My Life') and the notorious 'Je t'aime... moi non plus'.

 

Brigitte Bardot’s film career showed a steady decline in the late 1960s and early 1970s. In 1973, just before her fortieth birthday, she announced her retirement. She chose to use her fame to promote animal rights. In 1976, she established the Brigitte Bardot Foundation for the Welfare and Protection of Animals. She became a vegetarian and raised three million French francs to fund the foundation by auctioning off jewellery and many personal belongings. For this work, she was awarded the Légion d’honneur in 1984. During the 1990s, she was also outspoken in her criticism of immigration, interracial relationships, Islam in France and homosexuality. Her husband Bernard d'Ormal was a former adviser of the far-right Front National party. Bardot has been convicted five times for 'inciting racial hatred'. More fun is that Bardot is recognised for popularising bikini swimwear, in such early films as Manina / Woman without a Veil (Willy Rozier, 1952), in her appearances at Cannes and in many photo shoots. Bardot also brought into fashion the 'choucroute' ('Sauerkraut') hairstyle (a sort of beehive hairstyle) and gingham clothes after wearing a checkered pink dress, designed by Jacques Esterel, at her wedding to Charrier. The fashions of the 1960s looked effortlessly right and spontaneous on her. Time Magazine: "She is the princess of pout, the countess of come hither. Brigitte Bardot exuded a carefree, naïve sexuality that brought a whole new audience to French films."

 

Sources: Denny Jackson (IMDb), Hal Erickson (AllMovie), Craig Butler (AllMovie), James Travers (French Films), French Films, Wikipedia and IMDb.

 

And please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.

James Stewart ( James Maitland Stewart ) 1908 – 1997)

    

James Stewart was the movies' quintessential Everyman, a uniquely all-American performer who parlayed his easygoing persona into one of the most successful and enduring careers in film history. On paper, he was anything but the typical Hollywood star: Gawky and tentative, with a pronounced stammer and a folksy "aw-shucks" charm, he lacked the dashing sophistication and swashbuckling heroism endemic among the other major actors of the era. Yet it's precisely the absence of affectation which made Stewart so popular; while so many other great stars seemed remote and larger than life, he never lost touch with his humanity, projecting an uncommon sense of goodness and decency which made him immensely likable and endearing to successive generations of moviegoers....

 

by Jason Ankeny

 

www.allmovie.com

  

*

   

American Feuillage.

 

by Walt Whitman

  

AMERICA always!

Always our own feuillage!

Always Florida’s green peninsula! Always the priceless delta of Louisiana! Always the

cotton-fields of Alabama and Texas!

Always California’s golden hills and hollows—and the silver mountains of New

Mexico!

Always soft-breath’d Cuba!

Always the vast slope drain’d by the Southern Sea—inseparable with the slopes

drain’d

by the Eastern and Western Seas;

The area the eighty-third year of These States—the three and a half millions of

square

miles;

The eighteen thousand miles of sea-coast and bay-coast on the main—the thirty

thousand

miles of

river navigation,

The seven millions of distinct families, and the same number of dwellings—Always

these,

and

more, branching forth into numberless branches;

Always the free range and diversity! always the continent of Democracy!

Always the prairies, pastures, forests, vast cities, travelers, Kanada, the snows;

Always these compact lands—lands tied at the hips with the belt stringing the huge

oval

lakes;

Always the West, with strong native persons—the increasing density there—the

habitans,

friendly, threatening, ironical, scorning invaders;

All sights, South, North, East—all deeds, promiscuously done at all times,

All characters, movements, growths—a few noticed, myriads unnoticed,

Through Mannahatta’s streets I walking, these things gathering;

On interior rivers, by night, in the glare of pine knots, steamboats wooding up;

Sunlight by day on the valley of the Susquehanna, and on the valleys of the Potomac and

Rappahannock, and the valleys of the Roanoke and Delaware;

In their northerly wilds, beasts of prey haunting the Adirondacks, the hills—or

lapping

the

Saginaw waters to drink;

In a lonesome inlet, a sheldrake, lost from the flock, sitting on the water, rocking

silently;

In farmers’ barns, oxen in the stable, their harvest labor done—they rest

standing—they are too tired;

Afar on arctic ice, the she-walrus lying drowsily, while her cubs play around;

The hawk sailing where men have not yet sail’d—the farthest polar sea, ripply,

crystalline, open, beyond the floes;

White drift spooning ahead, where the ship in the tempest dashes;

On solid land, what is done in cities, as the bells all strike midnight together;

In primitive woods, the sounds there also sounding—the howl of the wolf, the scream

of the

panther, and the hoarse bellow of the elk;

In winter beneath the hard blue ice of Moosehead Lake—in summer visible through the

clear

waters, the great trout swimming;

In lower latitudes, in warmer air, in the Carolinas, the large black buzzard floating

slowly,

high

beyond the tree tops,

Below, the red cedar, festoon’d with tylandria—the pines and cypresses, growing

out

of the

white sand that spreads far and flat;

Rude boats descending the big Pedee—climbing plants, parasites, with color’d

flowers

and

berries, enveloping huge trees,

The waving drapery on the live oak, trailing long and low, noiselessly waved by the wind;

The camp of Georgia wagoners, just after dark—the supper-fires, and the cooking and

eating

by

whites and negroes,

Thirty or forty great wagons—the mules, cattle, horses, feeding from troughs,

The shadows, gleams, up under the leaves of the old sycamore-trees—the

flames—with

the

black smoke from the pitch-pine, curling and rising;

Southern fishermen fishing—the sounds and inlets of North Carolina’s

coast—the

shad-fishery and the herring-fishery—the large sweep-seines—the windlasses on

shore

work’d by horses—the clearing, curing, and packing-houses;

Deep in the forest, in piney woods, turpentine dropping from the incisions in the

trees—There

are the turpentine works,

There are the negroes at work, in good health—the ground in all directions is

cover’d

with

pine straw:

—In Tennessee and Kentucky, slaves busy in the coalings, at the forge, by the

furnace-blaze, or

at the corn-shucking;

In Virginia, the planter’s son returning after a long absence, joyfully welcom’d

and

kiss’d by the aged mulatto nurse;

On rivers, boatmen safely moor’d at night-fall, in their boats, under shelter of high

banks,

Some of the younger men dance to the sound of the banjo or fiddle—others sit on the

gunwale,

smoking and talking;

Late in the afternoon, the mocking-bird, the American mimic, singing in the Great Dismal

Swamp—there are the greenish waters, the resinous odor, the plenteous moss, the

cypress

tree,

and the juniper tree;

—Northward, young men of Mannahatta—the target company from an excursion

returning

home at

evening—the musket-muzzles all bear bunches of flowers presented by women;

Children at play—or on his father’s lap a young boy fallen asleep, (how his lips

move! how

he smiles in his sleep!)

The scout riding on horseback over the plains west of the Mississippi—he ascends a

knoll

and

sweeps his eye around;

California life—the miner, bearded, dress’d in his rude costume—the stanch

California

friendship—the sweet air—the graves one, in passing, meets, solitary, just

aside the

horsepath;

Down in Texas, the cotton-field, the negro-cabins—drivers driving mules or oxen

before

rude

carts—cotton bales piled on banks and wharves;

Encircling all, vast-darting, up and wide, the American Soul, with equal

hemispheres—one

Love,

one Dilation or Pride;

—In arriere, the peace-talk with the Iroquois, the aborigines—the calumet, the

pipe

of

good-will, arbitration, and indorsement,

The sachem blowing the smoke first toward the sun and then toward the earth,

The drama of the scalp-dance enacted with painted faces and guttural exclamations,

The setting out of the war-party—the long and stealthy march,

The single-file—the swinging hatchets—the surprise and slaughter of enemies;

—All the acts, scenes, ways, persons, attitudes of These States—reminiscences,

all

institutions,

All These States, compact—Every square mile of These States, without excepting a

particle—you also—me also,

Me pleas’d, rambling in lanes and country fields, Paumanok’s fields,

Me, observing the spiral flight of two little yellow butterflies, shuffling between each

other,

ascending high in the air;

The darting swallow, the destroyer of insects—the fall traveler southward, but

returning

northward early in the spring;

The country boy at the close of the day, driving the herd of cows, and shouting to them as

they

loiter to browse by the road-side;

The city wharf—Boston, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Charleston, New Orleans, San

Francisco,

The departing ships, when the sailors heave at the capstan;

—Evening—me in my room—the setting sun,

The setting summer sun shining in my open window, showing the swarm of flies, suspended,

balancing

in the air in the centre of the room, darting athwart, up and down, casting swift shadows

in

specks

on the opposite wall, where the shine is;

The athletic American matron speaking in public to crowds of listeners;

Males, females, immigrants, combinations—the copiousness—the individuality of

The

States,

each for itself—the money-makers;

Factories, machinery, the mechanical forces—the windlass, lever, pulley—All

certainties,

The certainty of space, increase, freedom, futurity,

In space, the sporades, the scatter’d islands, the stars—on the firm earth, the

lands, my

lands;

O lands! all so dear to me—what you are, (whatever it is,) I become a part of that,

whatever it

is;

Southward there, I screaming, with wings slowly flapping, with the myriads of gulls

wintering

along

the coasts of Florida—or in Louisiana, with pelicans breeding;

Otherways, there, atwixt the banks of the Arkansaw, the Rio Grande, the Nueces, the

Brazos, the

Tombigbee, the Red River, the Saskatchawan, or the Osage, I with the spring waters

laughing

and

skipping and running;

Northward, on the sands, on some shallow bay of Paumanok, I, with parties of snowy herons

wading in

the wet to seek worms and aquatic plants;

Retreating, triumphantly twittering, the king-bird, from piercing the crow with its bill,

for

amusement—And I triumphantly twittering;

The migrating flock of wild geese alighting in autumn to refresh themselves—the body

of

the

flock feed—the sentinels outside move around with erect heads watching, and are from

time

to

time reliev’d by other sentinels—And I feeding and taking turns with the rest;

In Kanadian forests, the moose, large as an ox, corner’d by hunters, rising

desperately on

his

hind-feet, and plunging with his fore-feet, the hoofs as sharp as knives—And I,

plunging

at the

hunters, corner’d and desperate;

In the Mannahatta, streets, piers, shipping, store-houses, and the countless workmen

working in

the

shops,

And I too of the Mannahatta, singing thereof—and no less in myself than the whole of

the

Mannahatta in itself,

Singing the song of These, my ever united lands—my body no more inevitably united,

part to

part, and made one identity, any more than my lands are inevitably united, and made ONE

IDENTITY;

Nativities, climates, the grass of the great Pastoral Plains;

Cities, labors, death, animals, products, war, good and evil—these me,

These affording, in all their particulars, endless feuillage to me and to America, how can

I do

less

than pass the clew of the union of them, to afford the like to you?

Whoever you are! how can I but offer you divine leaves, that you also be eligible as I am?

 

How can I but, as here, chanting, invite you for yourself to collect bouquets of the

incomparable

feuillage of These States?

  

_____________________________________________

  

( manipulated by me, using an original photo of my private colection)

 

From the back cover:

 

THE PEOPLE in this book are THE GIFTED in many ways. They are young, attractive, and have a great deal of money. They make free use of one another, they defy all rules of decency -- and think they will breeze through life.

 

But special Fates catch up with each of them . . .

. . . with Gertrude, who cared about nothing after her stepfather seduced her

. . . with Peter, who lost all illusions before he was old enough to vote

. . . with Cecile, who lost everything.

 

Yugoslav postcard by Studio Sombor, no. 202.

 

French actress Brigitte Bardot (1934) died on 28 December 2025, at the age of 91. In the 1950s, she was the sex kitten of the European film industry. BB starred in 48 films, performed in numerous musical shows, and recorded 80 songs. After her retirement in 1973, she became an animal rights activist. In the coming weeks, we will continue to post a BB postcard every day to remember her as she once was.

 

Brigitte Bardot was born in Paris in 1934. Her father, Louis Bardot, had an engineering degree and worked with his father in the family business. Her mother, Ann-Marie Mucel, was 14 years younger than Brigitte's father, and they married in 1933. Brigitte's mother encouraged her daughter to take up music and dance. At the age of 13, she entered the Conservatoire Nationale de Danse to study ballet. By the time she was 15, Brigitte was trying to launch a modelling career and found herself on the cover of the French magazine Elle in May 1949. Her incredible beauty was readily apparent, and Brigitte was noticed by Roger Vadim, then an assistant to the film director Marc Allegrét. Vadim was infatuated with Bardot and encouraged her to start working as a film actress. BB was 18 when she debuted in the comedy Le Trou Normand / Crazy for Love (Jean Boyer, 1952). In the same year, she married Vadim. Brigitte wanted to marry him when she was 17, but her parents quashed any marriage plans until she turned 18. In April 1953, she attended the Cannes Film Festival, where she received massive media attention. She soon was every man's idea of the girl he'd like to meet in Paris. From 1952 to 1956, she appeared in seventeen films. Her films were generally lightweight romantic dramas in which she was cast as an ingénue or siren, often with an element of undress. In 1953, she made her first US production, Un acte d'amour / Act of Love (Anatole Litvak, 1953) with Kirk Douglas, but she continued to make films in France.

 

Roger Vadim was not content with the light fare his wife was offered. He felt Brigitte Bardot was being undersold. Looking for something more like an art film to push her as a serious actress, he showcased her in Et Dieu créa la femme / ...And God Created Woman (Roger Vadim, 1956). This film, about an immoral teenager in a respectable small-town setting, was a smash success on both sides of the Atlantic. Craig Butler at AllMovie: "It's easy enough to say that ...And God Created Woman is much more important for its historical significance than for its actual quality as a film, and that's true to an extent. The immense popularity, due to its willingness to directly embrace an exploration of sex as well as its willingness to show a degree of nudity that was remarkably daring for its day, demonstrated that audiences were willing to view subject matter that was considered too racy for the average moviegoer. This had both positive (freedom to explore, especially for the French filmmakers of the time) and negative (freedom to exploit) consequences, but its impact is undeniable. It's also true that Woman is not a great work of art, not with a story that is ultimately rather thin, some painful dialogue, and an attitude toward its characters and their sexuality that is unclear and inconsistent. Yet Woman is still fascinating, due in no small part to the presence of Brigitte Bardot in the role that made her an international star and sex symbol. She's not demonstrating great acting here, although her performance is actually good and much better than necessary, and her legendary mambo scene at the climax is nothing short of sensational." During the filming of Et Dieu créa la femme / And God Created Woman (Roger Vadim, 1956), directed by her husband, Brigitte Bardot had an affair with her co-star, Jean-Louis Trintignant, who at the time was married to French actress Stéphane Audran. Her divorce from Vadim followed, but they remained friends and collaborated in later work.

 

Et Dieu créa la femme / ...And God Created Woman (Roger Vadim, 1956) helped elevate Brigitte Bardot's international status. The film took the USA by storm, her explosive sexuality being unlike anything seen in the States since the days of the 'flapper' in the 1920s. It gave rise to the phrase 'sex kitten', and fascination with her in America consisted of magazine photographs and dubbed over French films - good, bad or indifferent, her films drew audiences - mainly men - into theatres like lemmings. BB appeared in light comedies like Doctor at Large (Ralph Thomas, 1957) - the third of the British 'Doctor' series starring Dirk Bogarde - and Une Parisienne / La Parisienne (Michel Boisrond, 1957), which suited her acting skills best. However, she was a sensation in the crime drama En cas de malheur / Love is My Profession (Claude Autant-Lara, 1958). Hal Erickson at AllMovie: "This Brigitte Bardot vehicle ran into stiff opposition from the Catholic Legion of Decency, severely limiting its U.S. distribution. Bardot plays a nubile small-time thief named Yvette, who becomes the mistress of influential defence attorney Andre (Jean Gabin). Though Andre can shower Yvette with jewels and furs, he cannot "buy" her heart, and thus it is that it belongs to handsome young student Mazzetti (Franco Interlenghi). Alas, Yvette is no judge of human nature: attractive though Mazzetti can be, he has a dangerous and deadly side. En Cas de Malheur contains a nude scene that has since been reprinted in freeze-frame form innumerable times by both film-history books and girlie magazines." Photographer Sam Lévin's photos contributed considerably to her image of sensuality and slight immorality. One of Lévin's pictures shows Brigitte, dressed in a white corset. It is said that around 1960, postcards with this photograph outsold in Paris those of the Eiffel Tower.

 

Brigitte Bardot divorced Vadim in 1957, and in 1959 she married actor Jacques Charrier, with whom she starred in Babette s'en va-t-en guerre / Babette Goes to War (Christian-Jaque, 1959). The paparazzi preyed upon her marriage, while she and her husband clashed over the direction of her career

Her films became more substantial, but this brought a heavy pressure of dual celebrity as she sought critical acclaim while remaining a glamour model for most of the world. Vie privée / Private Life (1962), directed by Louis Malle, has more than an element of autobiography in it. James Travers at French Films: "Brigitte Bardot hadn’t quite reached the high point of her career when she agreed to make this film with high-profile New Wave film director Louis Malle. Even so, the pressure of being a living icon was obviously beginning to get to France’s sex goddess, and Vie privée is as much an attempt by Bardot to come to terms with her celebrity as anything else. Malle is clearly fascinated by Bardot, and the documentary approach he adopts for this film reinforces the impression that it is more a biography of the actress than a work of fiction. Of course, it’s not entirely biographical, but the story is remarkably close to Bardot’s own life and comes pretty close to predicting how her career would end." The scene in which, returning to her apartment, Bardot's character is harangued in the elevator by a middle-aged cleaning lady calling her offensive names was based on an actual incident, and is a resonant image of celebrity in the mid-20th century. Soon afterwards, Bardot withdrew to the seclusion of Southern France.

 

Brigitte Bardot's other husbands were German millionaire Playboy Gunter Sachs and right-wing politician Bernard d'Ormale. She is reputed to have had relationships with many other men, including Samy Frey, her co-star in La Vérité / The Truth (Henri-Georges Clouzot, 1960), and musicians Serge Gainsbourg and Sacha Distel. In 1963, Brigitte Bardot starred in Jean-Luc Godard's critically acclaimed film Le Mépris / Contempt (Jean-Luc Godard, 1963) opposite Michel Piccoli. She was also featured along with such notable actors as Alain Delon in Amours célèbres / Famous Love Affairs (Michel Boisrond, 1961) and Histoires extraordinaires /Tales of Mystery (Louis Malle, 1968), Jeanne Moreau in Viva Maria! (Louis Malle, 1965), Sean Connery in Shalako (Edward Dmytryk, 1968), and Claudia Cardinale in Les Pétroleuses / Petroleum Girls (Christian-Jaque, 1971). She participated in various musical shows and recorded many popular songs in the 1960s and 1970s, mostly in collaboration with Serge Gainsbourg, Bob Zagury and Sacha Distel, including 'Harley Davidson', 'Le Soleil De Ma Vie' (the cover of Stevie Wonder's 'You Are the Sunshine of My Life') and the notorious 'Je t'aime... moi non plus'.

 

Brigitte Bardot’s film career showed a steady decline in the late 1960s and early 1970s. In 1973, just before her fortieth birthday, she announced her retirement. She chose to use her fame to promote animal rights. In 1976, she established the Brigitte Bardot Foundation for the Welfare and Protection of Animals. She became a vegetarian and raised three million French francs to fund the foundation by auctioning off jewellery and many personal belongings. For this work, she was awarded the Légion d’honneur in 1984. During the 1990s, she was also outspoken in her criticism of immigration, interracial relationships, Islam in France and homosexuality. Her husband Bernard d'Ormal was a former adviser of the far-right Front National party. Bardot has been convicted five times for 'inciting racial hatred'. More fun is that Bardot is recognised for popularising bikini swimwear, in such early films as Manina / Woman without a Veil (Willy Rozier, 1952), in her appearances at Cannes and in many photo shoots. Bardot also brought into fashion the 'choucroute' ('Sauerkraut') hairstyle (a sort of beehive hairstyle) and gingham clothes after wearing a checkered pink dress, designed by Jacques Esterel, at her wedding to Charrier. The fashions of the 1960s looked effortlessly right and spontaneous on her. Time Magazine: "She is the princess of pout, the countess of come hither. Brigitte Bardot exuded a carefree, naïve sexuality that brought a whole new audience to French films."

 

Sources: Denny Jackson (IMDb), Hal Erickson (AllMovie), Craig Butler (AllMovie), James Travers (French Films), French Films, Wikipedia and IMDb.

 

And please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.

Graphic Video and Images of Pilot Whale Slaughter in the Faroe Islands

 

VIDEO :

 

youtu.be/V7NVmvjV88g

 

The Bloody Horror of the The Ferocious Isles

 

Commentary by Captain Paul Watson

 

The Danish Navy and the Faroese Police are strict in enforcing the laws that protect the whalers but there seems to be a lack of concern and enforcement to the violation of the laws for the killers. Illegal killing techniques are seen in this video, shot by Sea Shepherd in the Faroes yesterday. The use of the knife and the intentional infliction of suffering to the whales. The Faroese say the whales are killed instantly and do not suffer yet the intense pain experienced can be seen in the long bloody thrashing of dying whales.

This video exposes the lie of the 2 second kill, the myth that the Faroese constantly parrot in their justification of this horrific slaughter.

It is illegal to stress the animals yet the driving of these whales onto the beach to be killed is intensely stressful.

Last year, Sea Shepherd crew were charged with stressing the whales by interfering with the intent to kill them and this year it is now illegal to sight whales and not report them to the whale killers. Sea Shepherd volunteers or any tourist can now be charged for not reporting whales to the whalers.

Denmark has laws against cruelty to animals, but not in the Faroes. The killing of whales is illegal under European Union regulations but the Faroes, despite annually receiving millions of Euros in subsidies are exempted from these laws.

It is illegal to feed toxic meat to the public and especially to children but despite the dangerously high levels of methyl-mercury in pilot whale meat the Faroese do so without investigation or warnings.

Ripping fetuses from the wombs of the mothers, mutilating the bodies, hacking out the teeth, having children play and and mutilate the bodies, carving numbers into their flesh, stabbing with knives, ripping their flesh with boat props, decapitating them, stressing the animals with bang poles and forcing these gentle intelligent social sentient beings to witness the slaughter of their family members around them in their own blood before they are slain is viciously barbaric and has no place in any civilized society.

Why does Denmark subsidize this? Why does the Danish Navy and the Danish police defend this? Why do the Danish people tolerate this horrific cruelty and this disgracefully primitive violence that masquerades under the pretense of culture and postures under the justification of tradition.

The world must condemn this crime against nature, and Denmark must say to these killers that as a compassionate nation such an abomination of ecological principles and common decency should be tossed upon the dustbin of history with the likes of slavery and animal brothels.

 

Photo : Sea Shepherd

  

The phrase 'In life, as in art, the beautiful moves in curves' was coined by Edward Bulwer-Lytton who was a popular Victorian novelist, poet, playwright and politician. Apparently he also coined the phrases "the great unwashed", "pursuit of the almighty dollar", "the pen is mightier than the sword", "dweller on the threshold" as well as the infamous opening line "It was a dark and stormy night". The man deserves some props for such wordsmithery. Anyway if we fast forward about 150 years we find Sir Mix-A-Lot's seminal hit 'Baby got back' which has the immortal opening line 'I love big butts and I cannot lie'. Personally I think Mr Lot was merely expanding on Bulwer-Lytton's line of thinking in his 1992 paean of decency and good taste but I have little to prove this theory. Apart from this picture. Which I think is compelling enough. Case closed.

 

This piece is another of our upcycled pieces and was, I think, originally a print of the Mona Lisa but when I found it it had some kind of pink wash on it and a hastily drawn stick figure face. Given my proclivity for wombling this was clearly not something that I could overlook and just leave lying forlornly in the street so I scooped her and took her home for some much need care and attention at the id-iom art hospital.

 

Cheers

 

id-iom

You know, I never thought I would find myself saying this, but I feel a little bit like Sally Field. " They liked me." I think I have to say, "They really liked me." Why else would all those people have stopped to pick me up, and taken me into their homes (in Seattle, in Regina, in Montreal), and treated me with such kindness (and don't forget the hippies with the $50 station wagon). I must have put off a fairly decent vibe, back in the day.

I have a few folks I'd like to thank. Thank you, ART_NAHPRO, for putting me up to this exegesis, with a typically ill-thought-out, blurted out comment, "When are you going to tell us about being at Woodstock." I hope you got more than your money'sworth, like you went in to Blimpey's (isn't that what you English feebly call a hamburger?) and got served an eleven-course, three-star Michelin feast.

And thanks to Elisa in Seattle (ezook on flickr) for taking some photos for me, and offering moral-support, in general.

And a last thank you to jennie (jaggitha here on flickr), who also took a photo for me, of a lovely sunset in Vancouver. I had asked jennie to tell me the name of a charity she might like for me to contribute to, and she named the Downtown Eastside Women's Center, in Vancouver. Jennie told me that, "As may or may not have been apparent during your visit back then, there is a huge poverty and drug problem in Vancouver, mainly caused by the stranglehold of Hell's Angels and other gangs in Vancouver. Vancouver really is, as you said, such a beautiful [city] . . . , so it's very shameful that there should be so many people in the downtown core who are in such rough shape.

I'm going to send my small contribution to the DEWC, and I would ask you, if you have enjoyed my little (okay, not little) peregrination, that you might consider sending your own contribution to the DEWC (you can find out about donating here). or, alternatively, that you consider donating to a women's shelter in your own community. A third alternative would be that you might consider donating to some worthy cause, either locally, nationally, or globally. I would only ask that you not donate to organizations that might further the ideals of the Ku Klux Klan, jihad, Russian oligarchs, or fast-food franchise proselytizers, most specifically McDonald's or Kentucky Fried Chicken (now known as KFC). A fourth alternative would be that when you see me, you buy me a beer, and, if you are feeling really generous, a large sausage, mushroom, and pepperoni pizza. If you are a vegetarian, you could get half mushrooms only.

When I got to the bus station in Cambridge (Ohio, if you haven't been paying attention), I called home and my mother probably drove out to get me. No doubt she shed a few tears---she's like that. I don't remember my reunion with my long-time girlfriend, but she didn't dump me, I can tell you that.

It would be the next summer that my relationship with my family would fall apart. My sister told my mother off, and we loaded up all her stuff into a rented U-Haul and together drove up north to our grandmother's (my father's mother's) house. I didn't speak to my Mother and stepfather for some time after that (though, of course, my mother continued to pay the bills.) And my girlfriend and I drifted apart (an outcome that seems now, in retrospect, inevitable).

I knew, even at the time, that what I had seen in Montreal, the warmth and familial decency of Ginette's family, which I have so inadequately conveyed here, was the real lesson of my trip. The next summer I would spend some weeks living with a German family in Bavaria, and I got a mammoth second helping of Wonderful Family.

I think, like Moses, I saw The Promised Land, but didn't quite have the tools to get there. Sex and Drugs and Rock & Roll are nice enough, in their way, but they are no substitute for the love of your friends and family.

And, as Porky Pig would say, "Th-th-th-that's all folks!" Add Roy Rogers in there: "Happy Trails to you, until we meet again."

This print, by York Show Prints in York, AL was hanging in the office at Annie Mae's Place (Burkville, AL) when we visited this weekend for the annual Okra Festival.

 

I had heard of York Show Prints before, as they've (or maybe more correctly, he's) been represented at Kentuck Festival of the Arts before. York is run by Amos Paul Kennedy, Jr. and the business doesn't have a phone...so I'll have to write him a letter (York Show Print, P.O. Box 154, York, Alabama, 36925) about getting a copy of this "proceed and be bold" print.

 

((Other really neat show print houses include Nashville's ultra-famous Hatch Show Print and (I especially like) Yee-Haw Industries of Knoxville.))

 

"Proceed and Be Bold!" is a catchphrase used by the incredibly talented Samuel "Sambo" Mockbee, cofounder of Auburn's Rural Studio (and winner in 2000 of a MacArthur 'genius' grant, among other awards).

 

The Rural Studio was developed within the Auburn School of Architecture with intent to get students out of the classroom and in to hands-on experience with members of a community that would actually be utilizing their work. In the past, the students' hands-on experience consisted of them building temporary works...a beam or truss, which would later be torn down. D.K. Ruth, who hired Mockbee at Auburn, discussed with Mockbee that one could take such materials and (rather than a temporary exercise) they could "build something substantial". The idea for Rural Studio was less pre-conceived notions of what architecture is - be it for glass skyscrapers or McMansions - and more a noble architecture of decency for poor people - beautiful whether built with carpet squares, car windshields, or tires. Mockbee died December 30, 2001 but left behind were stunning, noble works for people in one of the poorest areas in the country.

 

The Rural Studio is still going strong.

 

Here are a couple of excerpts from Rural Studio, Samuel Mockbee and an Architecture of Decency:

 

..."And here we are in the twenty-first century," Mockbee says, "and we're still ignoring the problem and southern blacks are still invisible." He concludes that addressing problems and trying to correct them is "the role an artist or architect should play."

 

..."The best way to make real architecture is by letting a building evolve out of the culture and place. These small projects designed by students at the studio remind us what it means to have an American architecture without pretense. They offer us a simple glimpse into what is essential to the future of American architecture, its honesty."

This shot sort of blew up but I didn't have the heart or the decency to delete it.