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©All photographs on this site are copyright: ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams) 2011 – 2021 & GETTY IMAGES ®
No license is given nor granted in respect of the use of any copyrighted material on this site other than with the express written agreement of ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams). No image may be used as source material for paintings, drawings, sculptures, or any other art form without permission and/or compensation to ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams)
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I would like to say a huge and heartfelt 'THANK YOU' to GETTY IMAGES, and the 40.612+ Million visitors to my FLICKR site.
***** Selected for sale in the GETTY IMAGES COLLECTION on March 1st 2021
CREATIVE RF gty.im/1304469268 MOMENT ROYALTY FREE COLLECTION**
This photograph became my 5,343rd frame to be selected for sale in the Getty Images collection and I am very grateful to them for this wonderful opportunity.
©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams)
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Photograph taken at an altitude of Forty three metres at 07:46am on Saturday 27th February 2021 off Blackheath Avenue and Charlton Way in the grounds of Greenwich Park, one of the Royal Parks of London situated in Greenwich, South East London.
Here we see a group of Drakes, or mallards (Anas platyrhynchos), running around in the park. Mallards are dabbling ducks which breed all over temperate and sub tropical Americas, Eurasia and North Africa as well as New Zealand and a host of other territories. Belonging to the waterfowl family, the males or drakes are particularly beautiful with glossy green heads and bright yellow beaks.
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Nikon D850 Hand held with Tamron VR vibration reduction enabled on setting One. Focal length 600mm Shutter speed: 1/200s Aperture f/6.3 ISO1600 Image area FX (36 x 24) NEF RAW L (8256 x 5504). NEF RAW L (14 bit uncompressed) Focus mode AF-C focus. AF-C Priority Selection: Release. Nikon Back button focusing enabled. Auto ISO 3D Tracking watch area: Normal 55 Tracking points.AF-Area mode single point & 73 point switchable. Exposure mode: Manual mode. Matrix metering. White balance on: Auto1 (6990K). Colour space: RGB. Vignette control: Normal. Picture control: Auto (Sharpening A +1/Clarity A+1)
Tamron SP 150-600mm F/5-6.3 Di VC USD G2. Lee SW150 MKII filter holder. Lee SW150 95mm screw in adapter ring. Lee SW150 circular polariser glass filter.Lee SW150 Filters field pouch. Nikon GP-1 GPS module. Hoodman HEYENRG round eyepiece oversized eyecup.Mcoplus professional MB-D850 multi function battery grip 6960.Two Nikon EN-EL15a batteries (Priority to battery in Battery grip). Black Rapid Curve Breathe strap. My Memory 128GB Class 10 SDXC 80MB/s card. Lowepro Flipside 400 AW camera bag.
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LATITUDE: N 51d 28m 30.67s
LONGITUDE: E 0d 0m 19.20s
ALTITUDE: 43.0m
RAW (TIFF) FILE: 130.00MB NEF: 94.8MB
PROCESSED (JPeg) FILE: 28.10MB
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PROCESSING POWER:
Nikon D850 Firmware versions C 1.20 (14/01/2021) LD Distortion Data 2.018 (18/02/20) LF 1.00
HP 110-352na Desktop PC with AMD Quad-Core A6-5200 APU 64Bit processor. Radeon HD8400 graphics. 8 GB DDR3 Memory with 1TB Data storage. 64-bit Windows 10. Verbatim USB 2.0 1TB desktop hard drive. WD My Passport Ultra 1tb USB3 Portable hard drive. Nikon ViewNX-1 64bit Version 1.4.1 (18/02/2020). Nikon Capture NX-D 64bit Version 1.6.2 (18/02/2020). Nikon Picture Control Utility 2 (Version 2.4.5 (18/02/2020). Nikon Transfer 2 Version 2.13.5. Adobe photoshop Elements 8 Version 8.0 64bit.
Given the fact that the Governor has shut down all bars and nightclubs, and given the fact that all stage shows have gone Dark at least until late September or October -- what is a Gent to do on the Fabulous Las Vegas Strip between the hours of 5pm and 5am?
Eat Well! And Drink Well!!
Even on a Monday night in the midst of the COVID-19 Global Pandemic, one can still eat well and drink well on the Strip! You can order cocktails and drinks in any lounge that also serves bar food. And even though most restaurants are running on short staff and on short hours, there's still some very fine dining to be done here!
But you must wear your face mask and exercise Social Distancing!
Sooner or later your very lovely lady will call you from back home for her daily report, and you had better have some good answers for her!
ITALIAN HOT DOGS ~ Recipe and photo tutorial on my blog, sometimes SAVORY.
sometimessavory.wordpress.com/2019/05/27/memorial-day-eat...
5/27/19 MEMORIAL DAY
On this MEMORIAL DAY, we express our Gratitude and Honor for those who have given their lives in the service of our country.
Continuing with posting photos from my archives. Not sure when I will get out for a drive, given that our winter weather continues. November 23 2024: lots of snow and it looked like almost 10-12 inches of snow on top of my back fence. Can't complain, though, as mild, fall weather lasted well into November, which was wonderful. So thankful that I managed to get out for groceries a few days ago, so now I can hibernate for a little while.
28 November 2024: got up early, thinking of driving south to the Saskatoon Farm. However, change of plans, as our weather yesterday morning was -17°C (feels like -23°C), with freezing fog. More freezing fog today (29 November 2024), too. Another good day to stay home! Next week is forecast to be 'warmer'.
I will be adding the description that I wrote under a different, previously posted image taken on the same day.
"This photo was taken on 8 September 2015. In the morning, I joined a group of friends for a three-hour stroll at Inglewood Bird Sanctuary. 38 bird species were seen, though I didn't manage to see any of the tiny, fast-moving Warblers. It was good to see 28 Wood Ducks, but they were far, far away, in an area that is still closed due to devastating flood damage. The Sanctuary had been closed for about two years for this reason and only very recently re-opened just a part of the area.
The Calgary Zoo is very close to the Sanctuary, so after our morning walk, I decided to call in at the Zoo. I hadn't been for about a year and I really missed going there. Of course, many of the garden flowers were past their prime, but I did find a few that were fit to photograph. I love photographing the Water Lilies. They always seem to glow, as if they had a light inside.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nymphaeaceae
I knew I wouldn't be able to walk far, having already been walking all morning, but I really wanted to get to the ENMAX Conservatory to see what was going on. I had been longing all summer to see the tropical butterflies and plants. The butterfly season is coming to an end for these tropical beauties, but there were still plenty of them to be seen. Also, this month, the parking lot that I use will close for the winter and I don't like the drive back home from the north parking area, using Deerfoot Trail, so tend not to go to the Zoo all winter.
There was so much activity going on at the Zoo two days ago. People everywhere, carrying large animals wrapped in white, protective coverings, preparing for the upcoming ILLUMINASIA, Lantern & Garden Festival. Each animal is an individual lantern and there are so many of them. I noticed that several of the real animals in their enclosures were watching all the unaccustomed activity, which made me smile.
A good day, despite the overcast sky, and plenty of photo opportunities. Recently, I have been finding far fewer things to photograph, with fall on its way, so a day like this was more than welcome."
©All photographs on this site are copyright: ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams) 2011 – 2021 & GETTY IMAGES ®
No license is given nor granted in respect of the use of any copyrighted material on this site other than with the express written agreement of ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams). No image may be used as source material for paintings, drawings, sculptures, or any other art form without permission and/or compensation to ©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams)
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I would like to say a huge and heartfelt 'THANK YOU' to GETTY IMAGES, and the 45.208+ Million visitors to my FLICKR site.
***** Selected for sale in the GETTY IMAGES COLLECTION on Friday 10th February 2023
CREATIVE RF gty.im/1455733269 MOMENT ROYALTY FREE COLLECTION**
This photograph became my 5,863rd frame to be selected for sale in the Getty Images collection and I am very grateful to them for this wonderful opportunity.
©DESPITE STRAIGHT LINES (Paul Williams)
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Photograph taken at an altitude of Four metres, at 14:03pm on Monday 9th January 2023, off the Mall and Horse Guards Road within the grounds of St James's Park in Central London, one of the Royal parks of London situated in South West London.
Here we see an adult Red-breasted goose (Branta ruficollis) from Eurasia, and sadly currently classified as vulnerable. This goose is an example of hybrid specification, being the result of ancient interbreeding between the Brant goose and the white cheeked goose, some 3.5 million years ago.
Nikon D850 Single-lens reflex digital camera F Mount with FX CMOS 35.9mm x 23.9mm Image sensor 46.89 Million total pixels Focal length 260mm Shutter speed: 1/125s Aperture f/5.6 iso200 Hand held with no Tamron vibration control set Image area Full Frame FX (36 x 24) NEF RAW L 45.4Million pixels (8256 x 5504) 14 bit uncompressed AF-C Priority Selection: Release Nikon Back button focusing enabled 3D Tracking watch area: Normal 55 Tracking points Exposure mode: Manual mode Metering mode: Matrix metering Active D-Lighting: Auto Vignette control: ON Normal White balance on: Auto1, 0, 0 Normal (4650k) Colour space: Adobe RGB Picture control: (SD) Standard (Sharpening +3) High ISO Noise Reduction NR: Normal
Tamron SP 150-600mm F/5-6.3 Di VC USD G2. Nikon GP-1 GPS module. Lee SW150 MKII filter holder. Lee SW150 95mm screw in adapter ring. Lee SW150 circular polariser glass filter.Lee SW150 Filters field pouch. Hoodman HEYENRG round eyepiece oversized eyecup. Mcoplus professional MB-D850 multi function battery grip 6960.Two Nikon EN-EL15a batteries (Priority to battery in Battery grip). Black Rapid Curve Breathe strap. My Memory 128GB Class 10 SDXC 80MB/s card. Lowepro Flipside 400 AW camera bag.
LATITUDE: N 51d 30m 9.10s
LONGITUDE: W 0d 8m 8.50s
ALTITUDE: 4.0m
RAW (TIFF) FILE: 130.00MB NEF: 63.9MB
PROCESSED (JPeg) FILE: 26.60MB
PROCESSING POWER:
Nikon D850 Firmware versions C 1.21 (8/12/2022) LD Distortion Data 2.018 (16/01/20) LF 1.00 Nikon Codec Full version 1.31.2 (09/11/2021)
HP 110-352na Desktop PC with Windows 10 Home edition AMD Quad-Core A6-5200 APU 64Bit processor. Radeon HD8400 graphics. 8 GB DDR3 Memory with 1TB Data storage. 64-bit Windows 10. My Passport USB 3.0 2TB portable desktop hard drive. Nikon NX STUDIO 64bit Version 1.2.2 (08/12/2022). Nikon Capture NX-D 64bit Version 1.6.2 (18/02/2020). Nikon Picture Control Utility 2 (Version 2.4.5 (18/02/2020). Nikon Transfer 2 Version 2.16.0 (08/12/2022). Adobe photoshop Elements 8 Version 8.0 64bit.
Given all the junk that's pedaled around Tucson, this gem is a rare treat. University Medical Center parking lot. A. Homer HIlsen with full Rivendell accoutrements: Nitto racks, front basket, Brooks saddle, Nitto Noodles. What more do you want, except fenders.
Originally conceived by British Leyland, the Metro was built to similar principals as those of the Mini it was intended to replace, with a small, practical platform with as much use available to the passenger as was possible. The car came under various initial guises, including the Austin Metro, the Austin miniMetro, the Morris Metro van and the MG Metro, a version of the car with a 1.3L A-Series Turbo Engine.
Although the car was launched in 1980, development of a Mini replacement had dated back to the beginning of the 70's. Dubbed ADO88 (Amalgamated Drawing Office project number 88), the Metro was eventually given the go ahead in 1977, but wanted to have the appeal of some of the larger 'Supermini' (what a contradiction in terms) cars on the market, including cars such as the Ford Fiesta and the Renault 5. Designed by Harris Mann (the same guy who gave us the Princess and the Allegro), the car was given a much more angular body for the time, but despite its futuristic looks did share many features of the earlier Mini, including the 675cc BMC-A Series engine that dated back to 1959, and the gearbox. Initial cars also included the Hydragas Suspension system originally used on the Allegro and the Princess, though with no front/rear connection. The car was also built as a hatchback, which would eventually be a key part of its success as the Mini instead utilised only a small boot.
The Metro was originally meant for an earlier 1978 launch, but a lack of funds and near bankruptcy of British Leyland resulted in the car's launch being pushed back. This delay however did allow the folks at Longbridge to construct a £200m robotic assembly plant for the new Metro line, with the hope of building 100,000 cars per year. Finally the car entered sales 3 years late and got off to quite promising initial sales, often being credited for being the saviour of British Leyland. The Metro was in fact the company's first truly new model in nearly 5 years, with the 9 year old Allegro still in production, the 1980 Morris Ital being nothing more than a 7 year old Marina with a new face, and the 5 year old Princess not going anywhere!
As mentioned, an entire myriad of versions came with the Metro, including the luxury Vanden Plas version and the sporty MG with its top speed of 105mph and 0-60mph of 10.1 seconds. Eventually the original incarnation of the car, the Austin Metro, went on to sell 1 million units in it's initial 10 year run, making it the second highest selling car of the decade behind the Ford Escort. However, like most other British Leyland products, earlier cars got a bad reputation for poor build quality and unreliability, combined with the lack of rustproofing that was notorious on many BL cars of the time.
The show was not over however, as in 1990 the car was given a facelift and dubbed the Rover Metro. The 1950's A-Series engine was replaced by a 1.1L K-Series, and the angular bodyshell was rounded to similar principals as those by acclaimed styling house Ital to create a more pleasing look for the 90's. This facelift, combined with an improvement in reliability and build quality, meant that the car went on to win the 'What Car?' of the Year Award in 1991.
In 1994 the car was given yet another facelift, with once again a more rounded design and removal of the Metro name, the car being sold as the Rover 100. Engines were once again changed, this time to a 1.5L Peugeot engine and more audacious colour schemes were available for the even more rounded design of the new car. However, the car was very much starting to look and feel its age. Aside from the fact that the design dated back to 1977, the new car was not well equipped, lacking electric windows, anti-lock brakes, power steering, or even a rev counter! In terms of safety, it was very basic, with most features such as airbags, an alarm, an immobiliser and central locking being optional extras.
Eventually the curtain had to fall on the Metro, and in 1997, twenty years after the initial design left the drawing board, it was announced that the car would be discontinued. Spurred on by dwindling sales due to lack of safety and equipment, as well as losing out to comparative cars such as the ever popular Ford Fiesta, VW Polo and Vauxhall Corsa, with only fuel economy keeping the car afloat, Rover axed the Metro in 1998 with no direct replacement, although many cite the downsized Rover 200 a possible contender. Stumbling blindly on, the next car to fill the gap in Rover's market was the 2003 CityRover, based on the TATA Indica, which flopped abysmally and pretty much totalled the company (but that's another story).
In the end only 2,078,000 Metro's were built in comparison to the 5.3 million examples of the Mini that it was meant to replace. The main failings of the Metro were down to the fact that the car was too big compared to the Mini, and the rounded old-world charm of the Coopers and Clubmans was replaced by the angular corners. Because of this the car simply didn't have the novelty that the Mini continued to claim even 20 years after the first ones left the factory, and the Mini would even go on to outlive the Metro by another 2 years, ending production in 2000, then going on to have a revival in the form of BMW's New Mini Cooper that's still being built today. Unlike the Mini, the Metro also failed to conquer the international market in the same way, scoring its 2 million units pretty much in Britain alone, although some cars were sold in France and Spain, but only to the total of a few hundred.
The Metro however survived only on fuel economy and its spacious interior, but by the early 1990's, whilst other car manufacturers had moved on leaps and bounds, Rover continued to be stuck in the past with not the money or the enthusiasm to change what was a terribly outdated and extremely basic car. Towards the end the Metro, which had only a few years earlier won awards for its practical nature, was ending up on lists for Worst car on the market.
Today however you can still see Metro's, later editions are especially common on the roads of Britain. Earlier models built under British Leyland have mostly rusted away and are apparently only down to about a thousand nowadays, but the Rover 100's and Rover Metros continue to ply their trade, a lonely reminder of how here in Britain, we can never ever seem to move on!
Fehler bitte melden. Ich bin mir nicht sicher, ob alle Angaben richtig sind.
Displaying errors. I am not shure if all given informations are correct.
Given that this is the great Christmas Day for many Christians, a photograph showing that peace has broken out seems very appropriate! A group of Free State Army soldiers and officers with civilians at a barricade during the Irish Civil War is today's offering from the Hogan Photographic Collection. It is a nice candid shot with the subjects in relaxed and even jovial mood. The danger must have passed, for the time being at least?
Photographer: W.D. Hogan
Collection: Hogan Photographic Collection
Date: Circa 1922
NLI Ref.: HOG38
You can also view this image, and many thousands of others, on the NLI’s catalogue at catalogue.nli.ie
Given the fact that the Governor has shut down all bars and nightclubs, and given the fact that all stage shows have gone Dark at least until late September or October -- what is a Gent to do on the Fabulous Las Vegas Strip between the hours of 5pm and 5am?
Eat Well! And Drink Well!!
Even on a Monday night in the midst of the COVID-19 Global Pandemic, one can still eat well and drink well on the Strip! You can order cocktails and drinks in any lounge that also serves bar food. And even though most restaurants are running on short staff and on short hours, there's still some very fine dining to be done here!
But you must wear your face mask and exercise Social Distancing!
Sooner or later your very lovely lady will call you from back home for her daily report, and you had better have some good answers for her!
Turn of a Friendly Card
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Based on a true adventures of a rogue active in the waning years of the 1930’s as discovered in the criminal archives of Chatwick University.
Act 1
I begin my tale in the present…
That afternoon a soiree was given as part of the purchase price of the tickets for the annual Autumn Charity Ball to be presented later that evening at the manor’s great house. Since I was alone, I just went mainly for the free food and to rub my elbows with the wealthy guests who would be in happy attendance there, and at the Ball. I was alone, but certainly not bored. There was a game I enjoyed playing to pass the time at these affairs that entailed scoping out by their dress and day jewels worn, those ladies whom would be most likely to be wearing the better costumes and sparklers that evening. It often proved to be a most beneficial insight into the actions and mannerisms of the very rich. I walked amongst the cheerful guests, eying one here ( a lady in satin and pearls) and another there( a high spirited girl with a diamond pin at the throat of her frilly silken blouse). It was as I was passing the latter that the friend she had been talking too (dressed like a vamp), bumped up against me. I caught her, steadying her as they both giggled. I didn’t mind, for the lassie’s too tight satin sheath tea dress had been an enticement to hold, and the gold bracelet that had been dangling from her gloved wrist had been a pleasure to observe. I kissed her gloved hand, rings glittering, as I apologized gallantly for my clumsiness. Her eyes were bright, almost as bright as the twin necklaces of gold that hung swaying down pleasantly from between her ample bosom. I left them, moving on to greener pastures, and it was very green, all of it….
It was then that I detected another pretty lassie. It was her long fiery red hair with falling wispy curls that first captured my attention. She was wearing a fetchingly smart white chiffon party dress that commanded me to acquire a closer examination. She appeared to be a blithe spirit, seemingly content with just being by herself and roaming about with casual elegance, the extensive grounds of the manor proper. I began to discreetly follow her at a distance. Although she did not wear any jewelry, her manner and the eloquent way she moved is what attracted me the most. It would be very interesting to seek her out later that evening and she what she would have chosen to decorate herself with. I followed her as she sojourned into the depths of a traditional English garden with a maze of lushly green trimmed 8 foot high hedges
As I strolled through the hedgerows in her wake I allowed my mind to wander its own course. Suddenly I straightened up, my reverie broken by an epiphany of sorts. I allowed myself to grin and the lady whose enchantment I was swollen up in, at that moment turned, and seeing my beaming smile assumed it was for her and gave me a rather cute nod of her head. I answered in same, as I headed en route to a nearby stone garden bench to allow my thoughts to think through themselves.
But before I go on, allow me the pleasure to sojourn and reminisce about an incident that occurred several years prior:
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I was still working unaided in those days, travelling on to a new next quest that would take me just outside of Surrey.
I had just purchased my train ticket and had seen my luggage safe on board when I decided to rest in the lounge, it being some 45 minutes before allowed to enter personally aboard. Being so early the lounge was almost deserted, only one other occupant. I assumed she was waiting for someone on an incoming train due to the fact she carried no luggage. She was obviously well off, well dressed in satins and lace, and her jewels shone magnificently in the dim lights. Especially one of her rings, noticeably lying loosely around a finger, it sparkled with an expensive brilliance. I had seen one like it in a tiffanies store, worth almost 250 pounds. But she did not appreciate the show her jewelry was putting on under the lounge lights, for she was fast asleep.
I circled around her, aiming for a seat next to her, eyeing her and her possessions carefully. I noticed her purse had fallen off her lap and lay on the floor. An idea popped into my head, and I picked the purse up, and looked around carefully, before placing my plan into action. But I was thwarted as an older, matronly lady was spotted heading our way. I slipped the purse into my jacket and moved off before I was noticed. Of course she came in and took the empty seat across form the sleeping princess, and soon busied herself with knitting. As the older lady had sat down, not quietly, the wealthy lady stirred waking up at the noise. I went into a corner and sat, waiting. The two ladies soon fell into conversation; the minute’s ticked by excruciatingly slow. Soon I noticed we even had more company.
He was a lad of only fourteen, but with a devilish look about him that marked him a kindred spirit to meself, and his quick eyes were darting about taking it all in as he stood outside the paned glass window.
It was as the first announcement of boarding the train that I saw a chance for opportunity to strike.
The older lady folded up her knitting and clinching her bag, bid adieu to her new friend,( befuddled a little by the old ladies constant stream of gossip), and headed to the train. I was twenty steps ahead of her and was standing behind the youth as she left the lounge. I tapped him on the shoulder; he looked around at me suspiciously, and then caught sight of the shilling I was holding in front of his nose. I quickly whispered a few words into his ear on how he could earn it, and his grin spread as he bought into my story. I still held onto the shilling as he darted around and inside the lounge. I watched as he ran up behind the lady, circling her, then running in front of her he tripped over her leg, as she helped him up, her hand with the ring reaching down, he turned and spat onto the wrist and sleeve of that hand, than standing he ran away. Running alongside me, I handed him the shilling in passing as he ran off, disappearing in to the street.
I went inside and approached the astonished lady, as she was looking for her purse to get a handkerchief, confused as to its absence, while she held up her soiled hand( ring glittering furiously) in utter disbelief. I approached, catching her attention by the soothing words I uttered to her. I took her hand, unbelieving with her at just had happened, and I as I apologized for the youth of today I produced my own silk handkerchief and starting with her silky sleeve, began to wipe it off, continuing my tirade of displeasure and contempt at what had just occurred to the dear lady as I did so. As I finishing wiping her down, ending with her warm slender fingers, I kissed them, just as the last boarding announcement came over (perfect timing!) I let her go, explaining that I must catch my train. I turned and without looking back made the train just as it was letting off steam before chugging off.
I gained my private carriage just as the train began to lurch away. It wasn’t until after the train began its journey that I casually removed my silk handkerchief from my pocket and unwrapped it carefully, admiring up close the shimmering, valuable tiffany ring that was lying inside. I pocketed it, and then remembered the purse. I took it out and examined its contents: coin and notes equaling a handsome amount, a gold (gilded) case, embroidered lacy handkerchief, small silver flask of perfume, and ( of all things)a large shimmering prism , like one that would have dangled from a fancy crystal chandelier. A prism?, I questioned with interest as I examined it. It was pretty thing, about the circumference of a cricket ball, but shaped like a pendulum, it shimmered and glittered like the most precious of jewels. Why she had it in her purse? I couldn’t guess, and I saw no value in it, so I pocketed it and allowed it to leave my mind.
As I settled into my seat I began to think of the lad I had just met, I had been right on the money as far as his eagerness for mischief. Actually he reminded me of myself at that age, and I wondered if that lad with the shifty eyes would also turn out to follow the same course I had explored.
Which Begs the question, what had I turned out to become. And since I’m still reminiscing
I’ll give little background material about me, hopefully I don’t come across as being too conceited about my self-taught skills..
I had never been one to take the hard road, and even at a young age I was always looking for angles, or short cuts to make some money.
Once, while watching for some time a street magician and his acts. I observed a pick pocket working the crowd. He approached a pair of well-dressed ladies in shiny clothes, and standing behind them bided his time and then lifted a small pouch from one velvet purse, and a fat wallet from a silken one, then he moved on. Now both ladies were wearing shiny bracelets, one with jewels. I thought that he could have realized a greater profit if he had nicked one or both of the bracelets first, than try for the contents of their purses. The bracelets’ alone would have realized a far greater profit than what he lifted from their purses. It further occurred to me that by mimicking some of the sleight of hand tricks and misdirection that the magician was using on his audience, it could be accomplished. A hand placed on the right shoulder and as the lady turned right, whisk off the bracelet from her left wrist, and excuse oneself, that sort of thing.
So, I practiced (on my sisters, who proved to be willing accomplices to “my game”) and learned to pick their purses and pockets. I than moved onto their jewelry, starting by lifting bracelets and slipping away rings, before advancing to the brooches, necklaces and earrings they were wearing. After I was satisfied at my skill level, I went out and worked the streets. Sometimes using my one sister who was also hooked on what I was doing as a willing partner.
But I found myself still not being satisfied, in the back of my mind I thought there had to be a more lucrative way to turn a profit.
I’d found my answer when an attractive lady in a rustling satin gown zeroed in on me while I was “visiting” a ballroom. She was jeweled like a princess right up to the diamond band she wore holding up her piles of soft locks like a glimmering crown. The more she drank, the closer she got and I decided that her necklace would definitely help pay my expenses more than the contents of her purse (although I had already lifted the fat wallet from her small purse), and I did have very expensive tastes to pay for. So I took her onto the dance floor.
I was amazed at how easily I had been able to open the necklace’s clasp , slipping it over her satiny shoulder, lifting it off and placing it safely in my pocket with almost no effort. Then she decided to be playful once the song ended and brushed up against me. She felt the necklace in my pocket and before I could act she had her hand in and pulled it out.
The silly naive twit thought I was teasing her and told me that for my penance I had to go up to her suite in order to put it back on for her. I kept up the charade as best as I could.
And that’s where we ended up. A little bit of light fondling began as I placed the necklace back around her throat. I began to tease her, plied her with more and more alcohol as I tried to keep my distance, and virginity. Finally she passed out in a drunken stupor, but not before I had learned where she hid her valuables by suggesting she should lock her jewels up for the night..
With her safely unconscious, I began to strip her clean off all her jewels, reclaiming the necklace first. Then I visited all her jewelry casket and began looting it. I even took her small rhinestone clutch with the diamond clasp; of course I already had liberated its small wallet.
When I’d left her lying happily asleep in bed, still in her satin gown( the only item left to her that shined), I knew I had found a much more profitable line of “work”
So I began making circuits around to the haunts of the very rich, I still kept may hand in pickpocketing, so to speak, but centered only on those “pockets” containing mainly jewelry. I also began to carefully explore new ways of acquiring jewels” in masse”, so to speak.
Soon I had accumulated many tricks and tools, having them at my disposal to put into action once required, and for the remaining years up till the present had managed to live quite comfortably off of the ill-gotten gains using them allowed me to acquire.
Which brings me back to the train ride, my prism, and the rest of my background story before I retun to the present tale. Please be patient.
*****
So, anyway, I reached Surry without any further incident and disembarking, made my way out to the large country house where I would be staying to take a short rest, vacation if you will. But, pardon the play on words, for there is never any rest for the wicked, is there?
I had become acquainted with a servant of the old mansion ( almost a small castle, really) , that was about a mile off. I managed to learn a great deal, and soon found myself, on the pretense of visiting her, exploring the grounds. There was to be a grand ball taking place a couple of weekends away , and the maid had filled my ears with the riches that would be displayed by the multitude of regal ladies making an appearance. I began to think about trying to make a little bit of profit from my vacation. I am not sure how the idea developed, but the prism that I still had in my possession, came up centrally into my plans.
Late on the evening of the regal affair, I snuck over, covered head to toe in black, with my small satchel off tools by my side. I set up a candle behind an old stone ivy covered wall in a far corner of the rather large and intricate English garden that surrounded the inner circle around the mansion. I than strung the jewel-like prism in front of it. Standing behind the wall, I would strike the prism with a long stick I was holding whenever I observed sparkles emanating from silkily gowned ladies walking in the distance, solitary or in pairs. The prism would flash fire, sort of like a showy lure being used when fishing in a crooked trout stream. Only I was fishing for far sweeter game than trout. My objective was to trick certain types of jeweled ladies (scatterbrains some may call them) by luring them down onto the path beyond the wall, using their natural curiosity to my advantage.
I had at least two strikes rise up to my lure in the second hour.
On was a pretty lady in flowing green satin number, decorated with plenty of emeralds, which, hidden in the shadows, I observed were probably paste. I let her wonder about; as she looked and played with the shiny toy, remaining hidden until she grew bored and wandered off.
The second was a slender maiden wearing a long sleek black gown with long ivory silk gloves. I had never before seen a lady so decked out in jewels, literally head to toe. With the exception of the rhinestones adorning her heels, the rest of the lot was real, so valuably real that I could feel my mouth salivating at the thoughts of acquiring her riches. Now in Edwardian times only older, married ladies would be allowed the privilege of wearing a diamond Tiara. But in these modern times, it had become culturally acceptable for any well-to do lady, single or otherwise, to wear one out in society. Even so, they were still rarely worn, and seldom seen outside the safety of large gatherings. But there it was, a small, delicately slender piece of intricate art that glistened from the top of her head like some elegant beacon. That piece alone was probably worth more than I had made all the last four months combined!
I began to skirt around in the shadows, placing myself in position to cut off her retreat. Her diamonds blazed as she approached, eyeing the swinging prism with total concentration. Which was unfortunate, because as I was about to leave the shadows, she walked into the thorns of a rose bush, screeching out, and attracting the notice of a pair of gentlemen who had just crossed the path quite a ways off, called out when they heard the commotion. She started to become chatty with them, obviously coming on to her rescuers, my prism all but forgotten. Than before I knew it, in a swishing of her long gown, she was gone, “swimming” off before I was able to set me ”hook”.
Which I was able to do on the third strike, almost an hour later, just as I was beginning to ponder wither I should call it off and head back home..
They were a pair of young damsels in their young twenties. They may have been sisters, or cousins at the least. I still remember how my heart leapt into my throat as they observed my colourful prism and turned down the old flagstone path. I had not seen anyone out and about for some time, so I knew they would be no would be rescuers around to come to their aid
And, best of all, they were both dressed for the kill!
One, the blonde, was clad in a black velvet number that one could cannily describe as quite form fitting. As were the small ropes of pearls that hung from all points of interest, pretty with a matching pricelessness.
But her cousin, as I will refer to her, out shone black velvet quite literally.
This one, a stunning raven haired beauty, wore a long streaming gown of liquid ivory satin. A diamond brooch sparkled as it held up a fold of the gown to her waist. The fold allowed her to show a rather daring amount of a slender bare calf. The brooch was not paste, but a real jewel that had been added for the nights festivities ( To be successful, one learns to read these signs accurately) Her ears and neckline were home to a matching set of pure white diamonds. A wide diamond bracelet graced a bare right wrist ,so she must be left handed I instinctively thought, an observation that would have aided me if I were planning on having a go for slipping the bracelet from her wrist, but tonight I was planning a much more daring attempt to empty the entire jewel casket, so to speak.
They went to the prism, playing with it a bit, I had begun to circle around, when I noticed black velvet pointing out with multiple ringed fingers, to something further down the path past the wall.
With a clicking of heels I let the pair pass, they apparently wanted to see what was on the other side of the wall. I followed; it was not hard, because the necklace the raven haired one wore, diamonds fully encircling her throat, rippled and sparkled from their perch, caught in the full harvest moon’s cast, giving me more than enough light to shadow them quietly .
After a while they caught on that something/someone was following them, but as they turned they could see nothing. I was in black, and hooded, invisible to them in the shadows of the trees. They whispered amongst themselves, now worried, realizing that there were dangers lurking beyond the pale, in their case, the safety of the gardens , especially for ones decked out as they were. They then turned and headed right back from where they had come, right into my waiting arms.
It is interesting what good breeding does for young, poised ladies. For, as I stepped out of the shadows, a finger of my right hand to my lips, my Fairborn in my left hand, its black blade glinting wickedly in the moonlight , they did not scream out or shout for help. Instead the pair merely let out small gasps, and then they both, in a quite charming synchronized display of disbelief, place each one hand over their open mouths, and the other upon their perspective necklaces.
And as I flourished my wicked looking Fairbairn–Sykes blade in their direction, they unquestioningly reached around and undid those pretty necklaces, tremblingly handing them out to me, like actresses following a well-read script. I took the little pretties and after stuffing them into my satchel, held out again my free hand, my fingers beckoning. Not a word was spoken between us, as the frightened pair of young ladies began removing their shimmering jewels and added them in a neat little growing pile along my open palm. The raven haired girl even undid her brooch without me having to command her to do so. Once I had stashed it all away, I motioned for them to turn back around, than with a little helpful prodding on my part, they began moving forward back down the hill, away from the garden. The one in white hobbling a little now as she kept tripping over the hem of her dress, now no longer held up by the stolen brooch.
After we had traveled about 200 meters I had them stop, and take off their high heels. Then picking the pretty things up, I motioned them to turn back around and made them walk back the way we had come in their bare feet, watching the pair awkwardly hobble barefooted down the wooded path. They would be quite a while on their journey back, allowing me more than ample time to make me escape. I threw their shoes off to the side and went briskly the other way, reaching the place was staying at , gaining my room without notice. But not before I had hidden the jewels inside an old stump to retrieve them at a later date. I never really heard so much as a whisper of the incident, other than from the pretty lips of my friendly maiden. The wee hours of the morning before my early departure for the train station found me revisiting the stump and retrieving my satchel and its precious cargo. After hiding it all in a false bottom of my case I laid my head on the pillow and drifted off to sleep as I wondered what had happened to the little prism, marveling at how useful it had ended up proving to be.
So, how does this story (journey rather) relate to the one I had already started? Please read on, and enrich your curiosity… my dear readers.
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Act 2
So, with apologies for my lengthy elucidation, but I now return you back to the garden party I was now attending on that warm fall day. But, as you will see, my prism story needed to be told in order to add a bit of flavor to what was about to unfold.
As I sat on the garden bench I formulated my plans. I should be able to acquire the main piece tonight at the Ball, I would have time this afternoon to retrieve my ever handy satchel and its array of tools and have it hidden at the spot I had already selected. It was perfect, located at the end of the path I had found, or rather the charming lady in the smart chiffon dress had found for me. A gas lamp would provide adequate light for my “lure”, and it led to a back wood where I could lead any victims away and liberate them of their valuables before making my escape. I rose, just enough time to walk my escape route, before setting up and then be dressed for the evening’s festivities. I looked around, I was alone now, my lady in white had disappeared, following her own course, whatever it may have been.
The Autumn Ball that evening was in full swing by the time I arrived. Being a cool fall day, most of the women were wearing long gowns and dresses, and that, for whatever the reason, usually meant they were decked out with more layers of jewelry than say , if it had been the middle of summer. In order to put my plan in action I need and intrinsic piece of the trap, a prism. The one I had once had was long ago lost, a minor pawn in a game to take a pair of princesses.
I knew exactly the type of prism required for my plan, and so began mingling amongst the guests with that in mind.
I started out by walking through to the chamber like ballroom where a full orchestra was starting to play. The first person I saw from the garden party was the little tramp who had been wearing the too tight satin tea dress. That dress had been replaced with a long silky gown, her gold jewelry replaced with emeralds; including a thin bracelet that had taken the place of the gold one that she had so obligingly dangled in my larcenous path. I decided to avoid her In principle, and in doing so spied someone quite interesting.
That someone was a pretty lady in a long velvet gown standing off to one side, idly watching the many dancers out on the floor. The dancing couples were forming an imagery of a rainbow coloured sea of slinky swirling gowns and with erupting fireworks of sparkling jewels, ignited by pair of immensely large chandeliers that hung over the dance floor, setting them off. I made my way, skirting the dance floor to reach her, my eyes on her jewels, which were making pretty fireworks of their own. I happened to walk up just as a waiter with a tray of drinks was passing by. Plucking off a drink I offered it to the lady with one hand, my other hand placed on her back as If to steady myself. She laughed prettily, and taking the drink I met her eyes, as she was focused on reaching and holding the glass in her slippery gloved hand, mine was on the ruby and diamond necklace. My hand behind her had flicked open the simple hook and eye clasp of the antique piece and was in the process of lifting it up and whisking it away from her throat. As I said a few words to her, I pocketed it, while also taking in the rest of her lovely figure and its shiny decorations, before biding adieu. She smiled, her pale bare neckline now quite glaringly extinguished of its fire.
It was about an hour later, after spotting, but unable to make inroads with several likely candidates, that I finally struck gold (figuratively). It came in the form of a young couple arguing between themselves in a far corner of the chamber. She was lecturing a rather handsome man in a tux, her jeweled fingers flying in his face. If she hadn’t been moving about in such an animated fashion as she lectured, I may not have even noticed her. But as it happened I did, especially noticeable was the sanctimonious lady’s wide jeweled bracelet that was bursting out in a rainbow of colorful flickers as her hand was emphatically waving, as her long gown of silk swished around with every movement she made. Perfect. I watched for a bit, and sure enough they moved off, the man heading for the patio leading outside, the wealthy girl following him, still giving him lashes with her tongue. I moved and managed to have her bump into me simply by stepping on the hemline of her long gown. For a few seconds I was the one on the receiving end of her wrath, but I took it like a man, I could see in the eyes of her tongue lashed husband, that he was grateful for the respite. I was also grateful; grateful for the quite wide, very shimmering, bracelet that I had removed from her wrist and now was residing in my pocket.
I began to leave the patio, but was stopped by a matronly lady in ruffles, laces and pearls, her breath heavy with alcohol. She started to question me on what the couple had been on about. Then without waiting for an answer she launched herself into a tirade of her own, her gem encrusted, silken gloved fingers, waving in my face for emphasis. It was almost ten minutes before I was able to make my escape. Which I did, but not before slipping off one of the lecturing ladies vulgarly large cocktail rings.
I headed onto the patio; the time was getting ripe for my plan, which I was now ready to put into motion, now having acquired its most essential piece. I went to the end of the large patio, weaving in and out of the by now well liquored guests whom had assembled there. Across the way I saw a lady tripping over her own gown. By the time I reached her she had fallen down, giggling merrily. Two of us rushed to her aid, she was busy gushed her thanks to the rescuer she knew, while ignoring the one she didn’t! Which was unfortunate on her part, for by ignoring me, she also was ignorant of the fact that I was busy lifting the small stands of black pearls from her wrist. I left unnoticed, much like a shadow fading out of the light, or at least that’s how it seemed. Finally I reached the patios outer edge without further incident, or gain. I went on the grass and turned a corner with the intention of going, post haste around the house to reach the gardens by the long way, hoping not to be seen by anyone. But I no sooner turned the corner, when I realized that it was not to be the case.
It was my blithe spirit in white chiffon from the garden party, pardon me, soiree. She was unescorted, looking up at the moon above a stone turret with one lit window, so intently that my presence had not been noticed. I had been absolutely correct in my observation of her as far as what she would be wearing for the evening. For what she had lacked in ornaments at the soiree, she had more than made up for in the evening festivities. She was absolutely gorgeous, resplendent in as beautiful a silvery satin gown that I had ever witness. It was just pouring down, shimmering along her delightful figure. Her long blazing red hair was still curling down and free, but now a pair of long chandelier earrings cascading down from her earlobes, were peeking out every now and then as they swayed with her every movement. Her blazingly rippling necklace was all diamonds, dripping down the front of her tightly satin covered bosom, twinkling iridescently like an intensively glimmering waterfall. Her slender gloved wrists were home to a pair of dangling diamond bracelets that were almost outshone by her many glistening rings. All in all she was quite a lure all too herself
I came up to her, starling her from her reverie. Taking up her hand, I looked into her startled, suddenly blushing face. I complimented her on the fine gown she wore. She thanked me, and I could see I that she suddenly remembered she me as the chap who she thought smiled to her in the garden. She seemed to accept my compliment quite readily. I chanced it( although Lord knows I was short on time) and asked her to a dance. I did not think she would agree, so it was with a little bit of surprise, hoping she would politely decline and walk off, leaving me free to go about my business unobserved. But she accepted, and I will admit that my heart leapt as she agreed (although in the back of my mind I knew I should be off if my plan was to work). The music had stopped so we made small talk as we slowly walked back to the ballroom. Her name was Katrina. It seems she was waiting for someone, which suited my plans, but he was late and so she had time. Which may have sounded dismissive, but from the apologetic way she said it, it was anything but the sort.
The orchestra started to tune back up as we entered, and taking her offered hand up, was soon lost in the elegance of my appealing partner. It was a long dance, and a formal one, but I could tell she was subtly anxious to be off on her meeting, as I was to be off to my own adventure. But Katrina did not really allow it to show, which was very uncharacteristic of her someone with her obvious breeding. So I was ready when the by the end of the music she begged her condolences and took flight. I watched her as she fluidly moved away, her jewels sparkling, all of them. On her mission to meet Mr. X I thought, for whom I was already harboring a quite jealous dislike. I should be off I thought to meself.
But I stood, still as stone; totally mesmerized by the way Katrina’s swirling silvery satin gown was playing out along her petite, jewel sparkling figure. It wasn’t till the last of her gown swished around a corner out of sight that I moved, but not without having to shake my head to clear the thoughts of her out of it. Well old son, focus. For by now the guests were starting to wander a bit afield in the waning hours of the Autumn Ball, and my small window of opportunity was closing fast. If my little plan was going to have any chance of success it would have to be now.
I walked out and made my way to one of the outside exist of the garden wall. Reaching into my pocket as I did so, fingering the bracelet, now cold, that had belonged to the quarrelsome lady,and soon would be playing another role, far from one its former mistress would ever have dreamed off. I also felt my new acquisition, still warm from my dance partner’s body. I will admit that I had felt a twinge of regret for taking it from a lady I had found to be most charmingly captivating. But slipping off the diamonds up and away from her throat had been as temptingly easy as it had been automatic. I had advantageously made use of the sleekness of her scintillatingly silky gown, and with the distractions created by the movements of the dance, successfully managed to keep Katrina’s attention safely diverted from the reality of why my fingers were ever so gently, caressingly sliding along her slippery gowns neckline. The truth was I had originally placed my hand there because it had felt so right, and I was a little startled when my fingers had subconsciously started playing with her necklaces clasp. Before I knew it, they had flicked open the gemstone clasp of her obviously expensive diamond necklace, and had lifted up. As I watched out of the corner of my eye, almost like I was a spectator, as opposed to being the perpetrator, I saw the chain move up and over her shoulder; its diamonds sparkling with is as the necklace disappeared from view behind her back.
It was a favored technique that I had perfected to the point that by this stage of my career I nearly always acquired my objective. But, as odd as it sounds, I was not happy with myself on this occasion.
But I did not long dwell on my mixed feelings on taking the charming lass’s diamonds, for by now I had reached my place of ambush. It was in one of the farthest reaches of the garden, at a bend on the end of a long path that, with a gas lamp at its beginning just off the patio, would allow me to see from some distance off. Behind me was a break in the hedge wide enough for a person to walk through comfortably. It was here, off a tree limb, underneath a second ornate cast iron gas lamp, which was now lit, that I hung the shimmering bracelet that I had sought out and acquired for just that reason
I walked around and saw that it could be seen flickered off in the distance from the woods, Perfect! Earlier I had hidden my satchel with a hood and knife and bit of rope in the hollow of an old tree. I now retrieved them, and after getting ready, found my position and waited. At 10 minutes past the first hour of my wait, with nary a single glimpse of anyone, I started to fidget. My corner may be just a bit too desolated I was beginning to admit to myself. It seemed that most of the guests were staying by the patio. I was starting to think that I should pack it in, possibly rejoining the guests for one last parting( of someone from her Jewelry). I was just reaching down to pick up my satchel when I suddenly saw something flash under the gas lamp at the beginning of the path, and my senses immediately perked up. I watched as the wisps of rich shimmery satin moved closer, I stiffened, drooling with anticipation, the game was afoot.
I could see clearly the flickering jewels she wore, and by their blazing sparkles of rippling fire, I knew that my long vigil would not have been in vain. As the lady drew I recognized her gown of silvery satin! I knew who was making those tantalizing flashes of appealing treasures. Katrina!
I watched as she approached, in all her glittering elegance. My heart and conscious was in turmoil, but I knew I probably would not get a second chance. I could not let her get away unscathed. Beside, from the shock of being confronted with a masked scoundrel wielding a wicked blade, she would be in no shape to recognize her assailant. She stopped, apprehensively looking back towards the bright lights of the Manor, Then turning back I saw she had a self-satisfied smile creeping upon her face. She reached up, and undoing her hair, shook it down, curls of softness cascading down, hanging loosely down. It was as she performed this provocative act, that I saw her eyes open wide in curiosity; she had spied my pretty little “prism”. The charming fish was hooked.
I waited, watching her approaching ever closer to fate, and from my concealment, I basked in her glow. My heart beating fast, my adrenaline pumping, for the remaining jewels (I thought of her necklace in my custody) that she possessed I already had witnessed were quite valuable. She passed my hiding spot and went to the hanging, shimmering object. As she reached up, looking around, she failed to see me approaching in the shadows. I came up from behind, jabbing a finger in her back as I reached her, I gruffly in no uncertain terms, snarled for her to freeze and make no sound. She stiffened under my touch, but made no move or outcry. I went around; pointing my knife in her direction, looking into her sad doe wide eyes as she realized what was going to happen next. She was trembling; from fear I guessed, and knew I had her right where I wanted. As I made my demands upon her, gimme them jewels sister, she, not surprisingly, was very compliant in giving them up to me. She reached for her necklace last, and looked entirely shocked to find her throat bare, as she searched the neckline of her gown I saw her look into my hand, now dripping with her precious jewelry, almost as if to see if she had not already removed it. She looked apologetically into my eyes, startled; almost pleading that she didn’t know what had happened to it. I just played dump. She than spoke for the first time, sir, may I ask to keep my purse? Her words would have instantly melted even the coldest chunk of ice, I looked down at the little silvery clutch hanging from her arm on its rhinestone chain, I nodded, indicating that she could, and saw relief wash over her face. I told her she now needed to turn around and walk off into the woods ahead of me. She hesitated, and I told her no harm would befall her, I had no intentions along those lines.
About 5 meters in I stopped her, and had her remove her shoes, as she bent over to undo the high heels rhinestone clasps I watched her gown tightly outlining her figure. She tripped on the hem of her gown, and as she attempted to keep her balance, accidently let her purse slip off her shoulder. Without thinking I reached down to pick it up for her as she tried reached for it simultaneously
The small purse was far heavier than it should have been. Curious I opened it, finding that it contained a rather extensive array of mismatched jewelry, glittering in unbelievably expensive fire . I looked into Katrina’s horror struck eyes dumb founded, as she looked guiltily into mine. The gig was up. The jewels belonged to the lady of the manor, my muse in silver was a thief, a female version of me very self.
Aye, what’s this than luv? I questioned her as she looked into my eyes, hers large with a mixture of fright and disbelief. She melted before me, fainting, I caught her in my arms, and it was no ruse. I held her as she came to, holding her warm, silky figure lovingly to mine. I did not know what to think. Nor could I ever explain what possessed me to do what I did next. As she came to, her eyes opened, and I removed my mask, looking back into them deeply.
Oh, she gasped, I’m glad it was you, startled that she had said the words out loud. She than started to coyly blushes, quite demurely. Something sparked in me, and unless she was an incredibly good actress, it did also for Katrina. Our eyes both looked into the others, melting away in the lust of the moment. We embraced, deeply, and I held her squirming warm slick figure tight in my enveloping arms. I looked over her shoulder, eyeing the glistening bracelet hanging from its branch. To catch a thief, the thought suddenly opened in my mind, what a great title for a novel I thought to myself, as I buried my nose into Katrina’s luxuriously soft hair.
We talked for a bit, walking off into the woods, then she looked into my eyes again, a coy, look that melted me on the spot, and that was the end of it, we embraced again, and wholly gave ourselves to one another. What about your man I asked suddenly remembering, my man she questioned , than oh, you mean the Lord, I was waiting for him to come down from smoking in his tower study, that’s where the lady’s jewels are kept. She broke into an Irish brogue as she said the last bit, and that I guessed was her natural tongue. she laid a hand on the side of my face, thanks for being jealous though, me lad.
I should collect my lure I said, which made her smile; it was such an enticing smile at that. We started to head back and watched as it dangled in front of us flickering. With a far off look in her green eyes, Katrina spoke as if in deep though.
The daughter of the house, she has a bracelet on like the one you have dangling, a bracelet of diamonds that I had taken a fancy to, wishing it had been in the safe along with the rest of the ladies of manors jewelry. I knew who she was talking about. The one in green taffeta I asked? Aye lad, that’s the one. Actually her necklace would be just as easy, and worth more I said. Just then her bright green eyes gleamed, Give me about a half an hour, she told me, we will put your little lure to use again. She noticed my hesitation, don’t worry luv she said soothingly placing a gloved hand to my cheek, no longer was it sparkly with its stolen bracelet and rings. I’ll leave my purse with you, can’t very well be carrying it around now can I? I nodded my consent, my mind burning with the thoughts she had alluringly placed there.
She turned, and then hesitated; turning back she said I probably should not go back in naked luv. I smiled, reaching in I pulled out her necklace and placed it around her throat. With a little gasp she blurted, so it was you, I was wondering who and when it had happened. It’s not the first time I’ve had me jewels lifted, but it’s a bloody annoyance to have to let them get away with it, crawls under my skin to have pretend not to notice so that I don’t draw any attention to me self before making my move to steal the posh ones jewels.
But you, mister, I never felt as much as a prickling. I was ready to assume my pretties had been a victim of a broken clasp this time. I gave a little nod in acceptance. That wasn’t exactly a compliment lad, she said in what I hopped was a subtle jest. Just last summer some clumsy bugger slipped of me earrings, my favorite pearls, as we were danc… she stopped, seeing the guilt in my eyes. Men! As thieves you are all of the same skin she spat out angrily, or attempted to sound angry, for the look in her eyes to me she wasn’t. I best be off, before I change me mind about out little endeavor.
With that she swirled around on her heels, and started off, but not before turning and giving me an extremely coy look of interest. As she swirled back around I heard her say loud enough for my ears, I’ll learn me self to be a picker of pockets, see how males like to be taken advantage of in their vulnerabilities! She nodded to herself as she said it. Then suddenly she stopped, than twirled on her heels, her gown swirling enticingly along her figure. Looking me dead in the eye she said, “Vie ne est pas d'attendre que la tempête , mais d'apprendre à danser sous la pluie” !
What does that mean? I questioned in a low voice, perplexed.
Maybe, Mon Cheri, someday I will tell you… And with that she turned on her heel, her gown once again swirling about, and went, determinedly, swishing her way back up the path. I just watched. I had never heard anyone speak French with an Irish Brogue and I had found it to be rather provocative!
I watched as she swished and swayed her way back through the hedge and regained the path leading back to the manor. Her plan was simple; she would lead the daughter of the house to my corner and as she had done, go out with her to look at the swinging charm. I would then make my appearance, rob both ladies of their finery, and telling the daughter to wait until I released her friend, walk off with Katrina as a hostage, and we would both take off and make good our escape. A simple plan, so simple it should actually work.
So, there I was. Holding a purse with a small fortune in jewels, my pocket full of more jewels worth an additional pretty farthing, and her charms were wearing off by her leaving. And my thieving nature coming back, reawakened from the spell they had been under!
The devil of my conscious crept out on my shoulder, the angel markedly absent from the other.
Look mate, she may not be all she seems, and possibly has some other game in mind. Maybe she does have a male confidante helping her out… and was actually on her way to fetch him. He said in my inner ear. And, after all, you took her diamonds twice, didn’t ye now? Do you really think shell forgive you of that me lad?
And there is no honor amongst thieves, as the saying goes, he added as a closing argument...
I rolled it over in my mind…I could leave, absconding with it all, book a cruise to the states or down under where there lay untried fertile grounds to ply my trade. Not to mention working over my fellow passengers aboard the cruise ship while they attended the fancy affairs that were always going on, or so the brochures always seemed to show……
Then In the distance I caught a wisp of Katrina’s long silvery gown. She was coming, and not only with the daughter of the manor, but also with a spare. For I could see a purple coloured gown swishing alongside with the prey in rustling green taffeta.. I watched as all three ladies, resplendent with the rippling fiery gems they all possessed, came up the path, gowns sweeping out , shimmery from the now misty distance.
The thought of making my escape with all the loot continued to haunt me, there was still time now to take off without notice, or I could rob all three, and leave with purple silk as my hostage, Katrina would not be able to say anything on chance of giving up her part of the game, or I could just be a good lad and sty with the script that Katrina had written. Take a chance, roll the dice and believe that she was all she had me believing she could ever be.
As they came closer I knew my time was running out. The thoughts of just looking out for myself kept coming up playing the devil with my conscience as the precious seconds ticked away…
No honor amongst thieves…
What will it be, old boy I challenged myself,
What will you have it be?........
To see what his decision ultimately was, and the eventual path it led to, see the album question answered)
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Life is not about waiting out the storm, but about learning to dance in the rain.
Vie ne est pas d'attendre que la tempête , mais d'apprendre à danser sous la pluie .
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I was given the opportunity to shoot inside the San Juan Bautista Mission in San Juan Bautista, California. Despite the fact that there were a couple of dozen people inside the church praying I was able to get some decent shots. After the first couple of shots I realized that I had the beep turned on and I promptly turned it off. No one seemed to mind that I was shooting around the church while they were praying.
These candles are lit in commemoration of the dead. It seemed like such a time-honored tradition that it warranted capture.
Given the location, I can only assume the driver was on a route learning exercise for the 88??
377 approaches the bottom of Chippenham Road with a Driver Training duty.
Origins
1938 Talbot-Lago T-150 CSS. Body by Carrosserie Marcel Pourtout, designer Georges Paulin
1937 Talbot Lago T150 SS. Teardrop Coupe bodywork by Figoni & Falaschi
Launched at the 1937 Paris Motor Show, the 13 CV Talbot Minor broadened the range, taking Talbot into four-cylinder territory where the 2323 cc Minor competed with equivalent models from Hotchkiss and Salmson.
The Anglo-French STD (Sunbeam-Talbot-Darracq) combine collapsed in 1935. The French Talbot company was acquired and reorganised by Venetian-born engineer Antonio Lago (1893–1960) and after that, the "Talbot-Lago" name was used internationally. On the home market the cars still bore the Talbot badge that they had carried since 1922, which was when, in France, the "Talbot-Darracq" name had given way to "Talbot".
At the same time, the British interests of Talbot were taken over by the Rootes Group and the parallel use of the Talbot brand in France and Britain ended. Talbot-Lago cars sold in Britain were now to be badged as Darracqs.
Reorganisation under Tony Lago
For 1935, the existing range continued in production but from 1936 these were steadily replaced with cars designed by Walter Becchia, featuring transverse leaf sprung independent suspension. These included the 4-cylinder 2323 cc (13CV) Talbot Type T4 "Minor", a surprise introduction at the 1937 Paris Motor Show, and the 6-cylinder 2,696 cc (15CV) Talbot "Cadette-15", along with and the 6-cylinder 2,996 cc or 3,996 cc (17 or 23CV) Talbot "Major" and its long-wheelbase version, the Talbot "Master": these were classified as Touring cars (voitures de tourisme).[1]
There was also in the second half of the 1930s a range of Sporting cars (voitures de sport) which started with the Talbot "Baby-15", mechanically the same as the "Cadette-15" but using a shorter slightly lighter chassis. The Sporting Cars range centred on the 6-cylinder 2,996 cc or 3,996 cc (17 or 23CV) Talbot "Baby" and also included the 3,996 cc (23CV) 23 and sporting Lago-Spéciale and Lago-SS models, respectively with two and three carburettors, and corresponding increases in power and performance.[1] The most frequently specified body for the Lago-SS was built by Figoni et Falaschi and featured a particularly eye-catching aerodynamic form.[2]
Lago was an excellent engineer who developed the existing six-cylinder engine into a high-performance 4-litre one. The sporting six-cylinder models had a great racing history. The bodies—such as of T150 coupé—were made by excellent coachbuilders such as Figoni et Falaschi or Saoutchik.
Talbot-Lago models 1935–1940
Although the proliferation of cars types and model names that followed Lago's acquisition of the business is at first glance bewildering, it actually involved only four standard chassis lengths as follows:
Short Châssis (2,950 mm (116.1 in) wheelbase):
Minor T4 (4 cylinders, 2323 cc)
Junior 11
Baby-15 (6 cylinders, 2696 cc)
Baby 3 litres (6 cylinders, 2996 cc)
T150 3 litres (6 cylinders, 2996 cc)
Baby 4 litres (6 cylinders, 3996 cc)
Lago Spécial (6 cylinders, 3996 cc with twin or triple carbs)
Extra short Châssis (2,650 mm (104.3 in) wheelbase):
Lago SS (6 cylinders, 3996 cc with triple carbs)
Normal Châssis (3,200 mm (126.0 in) wheelbase):
Cadette-15 (6 cylinders, 2696 cc)
Major 3 litres (6 cylinders, 2996 cc)
Major 4 litres (6 cylinders, 3996 cc)
Long (7-seater) Châssis (3,450 mm (135.8 in) wheelbase):
Master 3 litres (6 cylinders, 2996 cc)
Master 4 litres (6 cylinders, 3996 cc)
During the early years of the war the Walter Becchia left Talbot to work for Citroen, but Lago was joined in 1942 by another exceptional engineer, Carlo Machetti, and from then the two of them were working on the twin camshaft 4483 cc six-cylinder unit that would lie at the heart of the 1946 Talbot T26.
After World War II
After the war, the company continued to be known both for successful high-performance racing cars and for large luxurious passenger cars, with extensive sharing of chassis and engine components between the two. Nevertheless, the period was one of economic stagnation and financial stringency. The company had difficulty finding customers, and its finances were stretched.[3]
In 1946, the company began production of a new engine design, based on earlier units but with a new cylinder head featuring a twin overhead camshaft. This engine, designed under the leadership of Carlo Marchetti,[4] was in many respects a new engine. A 4483 cc six-cylinder in-line engine was developed for the Talbot Lago Record (1946–1952) and for the Talbot Grand Sport 26CV (1947–1954). These cars were priced against large luxurious cars from the likes of Delahaye, Delage, Hotchkiss and Salmson. Talbot would remain in the auto-making business for longer than any of these others, and the Talbot name had the further dubious distinction of a resurrection in the early 1980s.[4]
Talbot Lago Record T26
Talbot-Lago T26 "Record" ca. 1948
Main article: Talbot Lago Record
The Talbot Lago Record T26 was a large car with a fiscal horsepower of 26 CV and a claimed actual power output of 170 hp, delivered to the rear wheels via a four-speed manual gear box, with the option at extra cost of a Wilson pre-selector gear box, and supporting a claimed top speed of 170 km/h (105 mph). The car was commonly sold as a stylish four-door sedan, but a two-door cabriolet was also offered. There were also coachbuilt specials with bodywork by traditionalist firms such as Graber.[4]
Talbot Lago Grand Sport T26
1950 Talbot-Lago T26 Grand Sport, coachwork by Jacques Saoutchik, Paris
The T26 Grand Sport (GS) was first displayed in public in October 1947 as a shortened chassis,[5] and only 12 were made during 1948 which was the models's first full year of production.[6] The car was noted for its speed. The engine which produced 170 hp in the Lago Record was adapted to provide 190 bhp (140 kW) or, later, 195 bhp (145 kW) in the GS, and a top speed of around 200 km/h (124 mph) was claimed, depending on the body that was fitted.[4] The car was built for either racing or luxury and benefited directly from Talbot's successful T26C Grand Prix car. As such it was expensive, rare and helped Louis Rosier with his son to win the LeMans 24 Hour race in 1950. The GS replaced the Lago-Record chassis which was named for its remarkable top speed. The GS was one of the world's most powerful production cars at the time. It had several special features from the T26 Grand Prix cars, such as a 4.5-litre inline-6 aluminum cylinder head, a hollowed camshaft, multiport exhaust system and triple carburetors.[7] Chassis details were similar to the Grand Prix cars, but it was longer and wider. It came it two wheelbase lengths -104 and 110 inches (2,800 mm).
Almost all the Talbots sold during the late 1940s came with Talbot bodies, constructed in the manufacturer's extensive workshops. The T26 Grand Sport (GS) was the exception, however, and cars were delivered only as bare chassis, requiring customers to choose bespoke bodywork from a specialist coachbuilder.[6] The GS was a star turn in a dull world and coachbuilders such as Saoutchik, Franay, Oblin, and Figoni et Falaschi competed to trump Talbot's own designers with elaborately elegant bodies.[4]
Talbot Lago Baby
Main article: Talbot Baby
The Talbot Lago Baby (1948–1951) marked the return of a pre-war Talbot model name and was the third model presented by the company during the 1940s. The car was commonly sold as a four-door sedan, but a two-door cabriolet was also offered. Its engine comprised only four cylinders, but the twin overhead camshaft with cylinder valves on both sides of the engine block was again featured:[4] at 2690 cc the engine capacity equated to a fiscal horsepower of 15 CV[3] which was enough to attract the punitive levels of car tax applied by the French government to large cars. The power output was initially 110 bhp (82 kW), which in 1949 was increased to 120 bhp (89 kW).[4] Although the postwar Baby sedan closely resembled the more powerful Record on a brief glance, the Baby's 2,950 mm wheelbase was slightly shorter than the 3130 mm wheelbase of the Record, and the overall length was correspondingly 200 mm shorter, reflecting the shortened 4-cylinder engine block.[4] Additionally the cheaper car sat on a simplified suspension set-up. Baby customers could specify as an option a Wilson pre-selector gear box.[4]
Talbot Lago manufactured three special made seven-seater presidential cars one for the President of France, one for the President of Tunisia and one for the Royal family in Saudi.
Talbot-Lago T26C
1948 Talbot-Lago T26C
The T26C was a single-seater racing car with a box section chassis, an unsupercharged 4.5 litre straight six engine and a four speed Wilson preselector gearbox.[8] Chassis and gearbox were derived from the company's 1930s racing cars and were similar to those used on their post-war road cars.[8]
The T26C made its racing debut in the 1948 Monaco Grand Prix, finishing second in the hands of Louis Chiron.[8] Grand Prix victories were achieved the following year with Louis Rosier winning the 1949 Belgian Grand Prix [9] and Louis Chiron winning the 1949 French Grand Prix.[10] A modified two-seat version won the 1950 24 Hours of Le Mans driven by Louis Rosier and Jean-Louis Rosier.[8]
New bodies for 1952
In 1951, as rumours of the company’s financial difficulties intensified, a new Ponton format body appeared for the Talbot Baby and Record.[4] The wheelbases were carried over from the earlier models. Although in many ways strikingly modern, the new car featured a two piece front windscreen in place of the single flat screen of its predecessor, presumably reflecting the difficulties at the time of combining the strength of a windscreen with curved glass at an acceptable price and quality. The new car’s large rear window was itself replaced by a larger three-piece “panoramic” wrap around back window as part of the car’s first face-lift, which took place in time for the 1952 Paris Motor Show.[3] The engine specification of the four-cylinder unit was unchanged as was the claimed performance even though the new body was some 100 kg heavier than the old. A new development with the Ponton-bodied cars body was the availability of the larger six-cylinder unit from the Talbot Record in the top of the line Talbot Baby, which in this form was called the Talbot Baby/6 Luxe, and had the slightly longer wheel-base and overall length enforced by the greater length of the six-cylinder engine.[4]
T14 LS engine / Talbot Lago Sport
Main article: Talbot Lago Sport
1956 Talbot-Lago T14 LS
At the 1954 Salon de L'Automobile de Paris, Talbot-Lago presented their last new engine: the new four-cylinder still had the typical twin laterally mounted camshafts, although it was upgraded to five main bearings. The new 120 PS (88 kW) 2,491 cc engine was called the T14 LS, but it did not have a car to go in until May 1955 when the Talbot-Lago 2500 Coupé T14 LS was finally presented.[11] The first car had all-aluminium bodywork, but later cars used more steel. 54 of these coupés were built, but they proved hard to sell - the stylish bodywork couldn't quite hide the thirties' underpinnings, and the rough engine offered little elasticity nor longevity.[12]
Lacking the resources to engineer the necessary improvements, for 1957 Talbot-Lago had to resort to buying in an engine. They chose the V8 2580 cc made available by BMW, albeit with the bore diameter slightly reduced, to 72.5 mm, which gave rise to a 2476 cc engine displacement, positioning the car (just) within the 14CV car tax band.[13] Reflecting the company's export plans, Talbot now rebranded the car as the "Talbot Lago America" and (finally) came into line with other French automakers by placing the driver on the left side of the car.[13] Unfortunately market response remained lukewarm, however, and only about a dozen of the BMW powered Talbot Lago Americas were produced.[13] It was now, in the early summer of 1958, that Tony Lago decided to accept an offer from Simca president, Henri Pigozzi, for the sale of the Talbot brand to Simca.[13] The sale of the business went ahead in 1959.[14]
With the sale of the business to Simca, the new owners found themselves with a handful of the final Talbot Lago Americas which were awaiting engines.[15] There was now no question of Simca being permitted, or wishing, to produce cars with BMW engines, and the only solution available was to fit the last batch of cars with Simca's own 2351 cc V8.[4] This engine had its roots in 1930s Detroit, and was originally provided by Ford to give the (then) Ford Vedette produced by their French subsidiary a flavor of the driving experience offered by an unstressed US style V8 sedan.[15] It was by no stretch of the imagination an engine for a sports car, and even with a second carburetor produced only 95 bhp (71 kW), as against the 138 bhp (103 kW) of the BMW-engined cars from the previous year's production.[15] Claimed top speed was now 165 km/h (103 mph) in place of the 200 km/h (124 mph) listed the previous year.[15] At the 1959 Paris Motor Show a stand had been booked for what was by now the Simca-Talbot brand, but a late decision was taken not to exhibit a Lago America and the stand was instead given up to a hastily constructed "motorshow special" prototype of which, after the motor show, nothing more would be heard.[15]
Commercial and financial
Sales data by model were kept confidential, possibly in connection with the company’s financial difficulties, but the overall totals for the early 1950s tell a dire story. The Suresnes plant produced 155 cars in 1947, an output which increased by 23 in 1948.[6] 433 cars were produced in 1950, but this then fell to 80 in 1951 and to 34 in 1952. In 1953 it is thought that the company turned out just 13 of the 26CV Record model and 4 of the 15 CV Babys.[3] During the rest of the decade volumes did not recover significantly; no more than 54 of the T14 LS were built in 1955 and 1956.[12]
As the company’s commercial trajectory implies, the years following the end of the war were marked by the slow financial collapse of Anthony Lago’s Talbot company. Other luxury automakers whose glory years had been the 1930s fared no better in the 1940s and 1950s than Talbot, with Delage, Delahaye, Hotchkiss and Bugatti disappearing from the car business while Panhard, nimbly if slightly improbably, reinvented itself as a manufacturer of small fuel efficient cars. Customers with enough money to spend on a luxury car were hard to find, and even among those with sufficient funds, in a country where well into the 1950s the Communists, buoyed by the heroic role played by some of their leaders during the years of Resistance, regularly polled 25% of the vote in national elections, there was little of the “live for today: pay later” spirit that had supported extravagant spending patterns in the 1930s. Government policy supported the austerity by creating a post-war tax regime that savagely penalised owners of cars with engines above two litres in size, and an Economic Plan, the Pons Plan,[6] which bestowed government favour (and allocations of materials still in short supply such as steel) on just five automakers, these being the businesses that became France’s big five automakers in the 1950s and early 60s. For France’s other luxury automakers, meanwhile, including Talbot, the tide had simply gone out.[3]
The money ran out, and Anthony Lago was obliged to seek court protection from his creditors, under a procedure known at that time as a ”Dépôt de bilan”. On 6 March 1951 the court agreed a debt moratorium which permitted a limited restart to production at the company’s Suresnes plant, but the affair provided unwelcome publicity for Talbot’s cash flow problems, and the company now experienced increased difficulty in obtaining credit. Production was also limited by the extent to which it had been necessary to cut the workforce, and by the reputational damage caused by reports of the whole process.[3]
The business staggered on till 1959, but never had the financial strength to support the development and production of its last model, the Talbot-Lago 2500 Coupé T14 LS, launched after a lengthy gestation in May 1955. In 1958 Lago decided to throw in the sponge and put the business up for sale. An offer was received from Henri Pigozzi under the terms of which the remains of the Talbot business would become part of Simca. In order to avoid bankruptcy, Lago agreed to sell the business on the terms proposed by the Simca president-director, a fellow Italian expatriate. Talbot-Lago was transferred to Simca in 1959.[14] Despite the sorry state of the Talbot business during the preceding ten years, commentators suggest that Pigozzi got a good bargain, receiving at Suresnes an industrial site and buildings worth many times the amount paid, along with a brand name that still resonated strongly with anyone old enough to remember the glory days of Talbot.[14]
Tony Lago died in 1960.[14]
Today
Talbot-Lagos have become a top-prized car at various auctions. A Figoni et Falaschi-bodied T150C SS Teardrop Coupe, owned by Brooks Stevens, would sell for US$3,535,000 at Christie's Pebble Beach Concours d'Elegance auction on Aug 18, 2005,[16] another for US$3,905,000 at the Palm Beach International Concours d'Elegance Gooding & Company auction on January 22, 2006 where it was unanimously voted "Best in Show",[17][18][19] and another for US$4,620,000 at the Pebble Beach Concours d'Elegance RM Auctions Sports & Classics of Monterey auction on August 14, 2010.[20][21][22] A T150 C SS with a Pourtout Aerocoupé body, designed by Georges Paulin, sold for US$4,847,000 at the 2008 Bonhams & Butterfields Sale of Exceptional Motorcars and Automobilia at Quail Lodge.[23]
An unrestored 1948 T26 Grand Sport, with coachwork by Oblin and chassis #110106, is a part of the permanent collection of the Simeone Foundation Automotive Museum in Philadelphia, PA, USA.[7]
A 1949 Talbot-Lago T26 Grand Sport Coupé by Saoutchik from the Baillon Collection sold for €1.450.000 at the Artcurial auction in February 2015.[24]
Even Talbot-Lagos with factory bodies, rather than custom coachwork, are highly valued; a factory-bodied 1939 T150 C SS selling in 2013 for US$418,000 at the Gooding & Company Scottsdale auction.[25]
Given that the weather has prevented me from going into Swansea CIty Centre for some LE shots, this is a hand held shot of The Christmas Tree on Swansea's newly revamped Kingsway taken after being out to lunch with an old school pal
Given our current weather, I thought that it would in context to explore the exquisite arrangements of clusters of minute water droplets (nominally <0.5 mm in diameter) resting on orchid flower petals. The petal surfaces are clearly hydrophobic in that they repel water, forcing the water droplets to take on spherical shapes with the smaller drops generally approaching spherical perfection. What’s more interesting to me is the fact that large clusters of touching droplets remained stable for considerable lengths of time, being “hydrophobic” to one another, with their individual surface tensions prevailing over their affinity to merge into larger drops. Indeed, they were more incline to evaporate rather than joining; their small sizes inhibiting coalescence.
[256:366]
Wasn't feeling very motivated to spend a lot of time on today's photo so I was pleasantly surprised when I came home to find this guy loitering outside my front door.
The focus isn't quite as I would have liked it, but with only the macro adapter I'm quite limited on the focal point. And when I came back with the tripod to try a few shots to focus stack with, he'd gone away. I guess this was the end of his photo shoot.
Also, I'm a bit behind tonight, thanks to the traffic caused by Ottawa's sinkhole, so I will be playing catch up with your streams, comments and messages tomorrow.
Happy half way point everyone!
Click "L" to view on a darker background.
Given myself an alphabet soup game. Two new photos and another two from my photostream or archives, when possible.
As I loathe sewing with a passion it's amazing that I have any needles in the flat to photo. Let alone find one for my game.
You can see the whole set/album here in alphabetic order.
www.flickr.com/photos/44506883@N04/sets/72157650127170829
Thank you for your favourites. :O)
The peg is off . Northern Rail 150110 and 150220 are about to pass Buxton SB working the 2B18 1208 Manchester Piccadilly - Buxton terminating service .
19 4 21
St Peter, Ketteringham, Norfolk
In 2006, I wrote: Ketteringham is just south of the main A11 road, but clever planning policies have left it feeling remote; more remote than it felt before the new road was built, probably. The village straggles along a mile or so of street, and the church is about half a mile to the south. My OS map showed a road leading up to it, but when we looked for this road it turned out to be the private drive of Ketteringham Hall, and was very firmly locked off. Instead, we had to go out into the country on the road to East Carleton and then come back northwards towards the church. It sits immediately beside another entrance to the Hall grounds, and you can see at once that it was a park church, the main churchyard entrances pointing towards gates into the grounds, the public lychgate in the corner added almost as an afterthought.
Another sign that this was a park church is that it was patently given a good going over in the late 18th century. The antiquarian-minded squirearchy of the times didn't know much about medieval architecture, but it knew what it liked. Hence, the fortress-like pinnacle to the tower stairway, and the guardian angels at the other three corners. The residents of the Hall at the time were the Atkyns; their successors were the Boileaus, whose famous mausoleum is to the east of the church. It was built under very traumatic circumstances, one of the central incidents in Owen Chadwick's masterly Victorian Miniature, a book I only read after my visit here, but which will send me back there as soon as possible.
There have been four main families that have left their impression here - the Grays, the Heveninghams, the Atkyns and the Boileaus. The atmosphere of the interior, at once rustic and grand, tells you that the Boileaus had more say in the 19th century than the ecclesiologists of Oxford and Cambridge ever did. Sir John Boileau, the hot-tempered, paternalistic Squire, was responsible for the elegant west gallery; he spent thirty years in dispute with the vain, egotistical, Calvinist Rector William Andrew, and his appalling wife Ellen, a tale recounted in Chadwick's book.
The key lets you in through the vestry, and you step into a chancel which is quite overwhelming in the quantity of its memorials. There are over 500 years worth of them from all four families, and the best thing is that they are almost all both interesting and quirky - few of them are merely pompous or run of the mill.
There are, broadly speaking, four groups. On the south side of the chancel is a large table tomb which might once have formed an Easter sepulchre. Set in its recess are two late 15th century brasses to Sir Henry and Lady Gray. An older brass to Jane Gray is set on the wall to the west of it. Moving west, the massive tomb by Robert Page for Edward Atkyns, who died in 1750, looks like nothing so much as a bath tub with lion's feet.
Directly opposite is the family pew of the Atkyns, later that of the Boileaus - memorials of both families tower above it, most prominently the weeping woman and urn on the Richard Westmacott memorial to father and son Edward and Wright Atkyns; the array of weapons stacked beside the urn recall that the son died in battle.
This is echoed in one of the later brass inscriptions set below to Charles Augustus Penryn Boileau, youngest son of Sir John Boileau. Something of a rake, he went to the Crimean War as a way of escaping his debts, and died in Malta on his way home as a result of injuries suffered at the 1855 seige of Sebastapol; a tangle of musket, sword, bugle and so on, is starkly carved from stone beneath.
A memorial of similar size to John, Charles' eldest brother, matches it; more successful in public life than his brother, he was a parliamentary private secretary to Lord John Russell. Russell's retirement coincided with the end of the Crimean War; John rushed out to see it end, but caught a fever in Austro-Hungary. He came home, but was sent to the south of France to recuperate. He got as far as Dieppe, and died there in 1861.
Between the two brasses is a central, larger one to their parents; SIr John Boileau, his movements, talents and emotions known to us today from Chadwick's book, a bull-headed yet sympathetic character who might have stepped out of the pages of Trollope, and his wife Catherine.
Catherine should have been remembered by a memorial window depicting the Saint that gave her name; but there was such an uproar in the parish, fanned by the Rector, about having an image of a Saint in the church that Sir John relented. The Rector, who was not unkind, reported to Sir John that his greatest fear was that the simple people of the parish might think it was the Virgin Mary.
Perhaps the most curious memorial is the most westerly one of this group. It is a 1910 memorial to Charlotte Atkyns, who died in Paris in 1836, and is buried in an unmarked grave; born a Walpole, she found herself caught up in the events of the French Revolution, and the inscription further recalls that she was the friend of Marie Antoinette, and made several brave attempts to rescue her from prison; and after that Queen's death strove to rescue the Dauphin of France. She bankrupted the family fortunes in her quest, mortgaging the Ketteringham estate and claiming to have spent an extraordinary eighty thousand pounds, about fifteen million in today's money.
Owen Chadwick recalls that, on her death, she requested that her body be returned to Ketteringham and a marble slab be placed on the chancel walls. Her relatives of the time, left destitute by her enthusiasms, not unreasonably failed to carry out either request. You might think that Charlotte's Francophile adventures and the French name of the Boileaus might indicate a family connection; in fact, the Boileaus were an old Huguenot family who came to Norfolk by way of Dublin, and already owned Tacolneston Hall. They bought the bankrupt Ketteringham estate after Charlotte's death.
Perhaps the best of all the memorials is in the north-east corner of the chancel, to Sir William Heveningham and his wife Mary. It is curious, the way the figures and prayerdesk at the bottom, and the ascending angel above, appear to obscure the inscription; but there may be a reason for this. Sir William was one of those who sat in judgement on Charles I, and although he did not actually sign the death warrant, he was deprived of his inheritance, and for many years his name was under a cloud.
St Peter is obviously worth the visit for the memorials alone, but there is rather more to it than that. The church has one of the best collections of medieval and Flemish glass in central Norfolk. One of the most interesting aspects of the collection, given that the Hall was in the hands of four powerful families over the centuries, is that it includes a 15th century Grey arms, and so we may perhaps assume that the families that collected the later continental glass were adding it to English medieval glass that was already in situ.
The most important glass is an English medieval Coronation of the Queen of Heaven, an extraordinarily rare pair of panels. Also English are numerous angels, a Saint Cecilia playing her psaltery, and a Bishop. Continental roundels include St Barbara, and there is also a fascinating St Christopher with a hermit looking on, which I take to be 15th century continental.
One of the striking things about the east window is that this is a collection set for display. I assume that this was the work of the late 18th century Atkyns family. Mary Parker tells me that the entire window was reset in 1908 by the King workshop of Norwich, and that some of it is now in reverse order to that given in an account of 1851. Some of the panels are in poor condition, and I fear that this may be because they were originally set back-to-front, that is to say with the painting outside, exposed to the elements. The King restoration corrected this, but not before the damage had been done.
If St Peter had none of the glass, and none of the memorials either, there would still be much to recommend it. The font is fascinating; four of the panels feature evangelistic symbols, and two others flowers; but the final two panels are very unusual. They are the only two that appear to have suffered iconoclasm; one is clearly a crucifixion scene, something like that which you find often on fonts in the seven sacraments series. The eighth panel is harder to decode. It shows a seated figure holding a staff - could it be Christ in judgement? Or the Mother of God enthroned? It is hard to say. The renewed roof, with its restored angels, is set on outstanding corbels, and there is a good view of them from up in the gallery. This is a small, narrow church, and the intimacy of the views from aloft is much to be recommended. In such a small building it even gives a good vantage point for photographing the east window if you have a decent zoom.
Sir John Boileau built the gallery as a way of providing accommodation for the Sunday School, an interference that the Rector deeply resented. There was no way that Sir John's liberal paternalism and the Rector's fundamentalist intransigence were ever likely to accommodate each other. The firm security of tenure enjoyed by both, and the further sources of friction that arose between them, not least the interference of the Rector's wife, made the situation explosive.
All around are hatchments of Atkyns and Boileaus. There is no doubt that they had their say, but strangely enough there is no sense of triumphalism; rather, they mark a church which is a real backwater, both geographically and in terms of English church furnishing and decoration. But if this was a backwater, it was a moneyed one; there is a real quality to the way everything was carried out here, and this remains today. As a good example, take the late 16th century painting on boards of the Wedding at Canaa in use as a reredos. My goodness, what a thing to find in an English country church! At the time it was painted, we were all enthusiastic protestants, stripping our churches and our lives of things of beauty. But here it is, an extraordinary Flemish survival, probably collected in the early 19th century.
As I said at the start, Norfolk is still full of surprises. This is not a church you find by accident, and so it fully repays the effort of getting here and getting in. What must it have been like to attend divine service here in the 19th century? I assume that the entire parish, pretty much, worked for the Hall. Whose side were they on in the long-running dispute between Squire and Rector? The Rector had the advantage of a three-decker pulpit. The reading light now faces north-west, but at one time he would have faced north-east, to address the Hall pew. This must have given him something of an advantage on a Sunday.
But today it is the Hall families we remember; the Grays, the Heveninghams, the Atkyns and especially the Boileaus. So, spare a glance and a thought before leaving for the cold stone memorial on the south nave wall for William Wayte Andrew, Rector through the middle years of the 19th century. In his evangelical Calvinist zeal he faced up to the Boileaus, but it must be with pursed lips that he is a silent witness to them now.
Simon Knott, 2006, updated 2016
Rolleiflex 3.5f
Ilford HP5 plus, pushed to 800.
Ilford Microphen.
9min 36sec
Epson V600
(16bit grey scale, 2400dpi, medium sharp, dust removal)
Aperture
Given my very, very brief visit in Boston, sleep was, unfortunately, not quite on the agenda for this night photographer. After exploring the city the night before, I went to bed around midnight only to wake up around 3:45am so I could find the location I had in mind for the sunrise at 5:48am.
I have never used GPS to find any location. I’m an avid connoisseur of maps, globes, and road atlases. (Yes, I’m rather "19th century" in that sense). Of course, in my confused state of mind somewhere between lethargy and exhilaration, I realized I had forgotten my maps in the hotel room. It was too late, though -- the key was in the ignition and I was already driving through the empty streets of downtown Boston. Going back to get the maps would waste precious time, which I had so little of, so I had to use my wits and regional topography to get me to East Boston.
For me, there’s always something very enjoyable about cruising on the empty highways of a major American city when everyone’s asleep! With the cool wind blowing through the windows, I began to wake from my drowsy stupor. With a few right turns and a few wrong turns, I managed to reach an alternative spot to get the view you see posted above.
The place I really wanted to be was a good mile and a half (2.4km) away, which is where this photo was achieved (after jogging the distance and avoiding a skunk in the park who seemed to be oddly drawn to me and wanted my company that early in the morning -- I had to dodge that fellow with stealth). Running with one's camera, backpack, and tripod while racing with the sunrise is no easy feat. That skunk almost blew my chances too!
Regardless, these are the entertaining details of my adventures of capturing Boston before dawn! Have an excellent week!
The Boston galleries (City Images) (Aerials) are completed and now available on my official website, which has also been overhauled, and undergoing more changes! Enjoy!
TIA INTERNATIONAL PHOTOGRAPHY / TIA Facebook / TIA Twitter / TIA Blogger
+++ DISCLAIMER +++
Nothing you see here is real, even though the conversion or the presented background story might be based on historical facts. BEWARE!
Some background:
With the end of the conflict in Africa in early 1974, the Portuguese Armed Forces went through a reorganization and shifted their focus back from counter-insurgency to honoring Portugal's commitments to NATO and preparing for a possible conflict in Europe against the Warsaw Pact. The Portuguese Air Force's F-86F Sabre and G.91 fighters were considered to be outdated in both the air defense and ground attack roles to face Soviet forces in the European operations theater. Furthermore, only a few Sabre fighters were actually in service due to problems with the engines and lack of spare parts.
After the revolution Portugal faced financial problems and the new government didn't see the modernization of the armed forces as a priority. As such the Air Force counted on the support from the United States through the military assistance programs and the offsets and compensations for the use of the Lajes Air Base. In June 1974 the Air Force Chief of Staff, General Manuel Diogo Neto, informed the US Military Assistance Advisory Group (MAAG) in Lisbon of the interest in acquiring one F-5E Tiger II squadron and one F-4E Phantom II squadron, as well as T-38A Talon and T-41, to replace the T-33 Shooting Star and the DHC-1 Chipmunk, respectively.
The United States’ NATO delegation was worried about Portugal's capability in contributing to NATO operations and felt that the intention to purchase either the F-4E Phantom II or the F-5E Tiger II to replace the F-86F Sabre was inappropriate, given that the USA felt that the A-7D Corsair II or the A-4N Skyhawk provided a better platform for the Portuguese role in an eventual conflict with the Warsaw Pact, which was to mainly protect the Atlantic Ocean resupply routes from the United States to Europe.
By 1976 the Northrop F-5E Tiger II had become the sole preferred aircraft by the military command, which believed that this aircraft could be supplied by The Pentagon at a lower cost through the Military Assistance Program (MAP) and the Foreign Military Sales (FMS). To this end, Portugal leased Northrop T-38A Talon jet trainers, as part of the "Peace Talon" program, to establish and provide supersonic-capable lead-in fighter training and to eventually provide operational conversion.
Later in March 1976, a camouflage scheme for the F-5 was published in the Diário da República, stirring public awareness and political pressure. Nonetheless, at the time the FAP had already started analyzing the acquisition of the A-7 Corsair II as an alternative to the F-5, per the suggestion of the United States. This led to the acquisition of 30 A-7A Corsair II for 49 million dollars. But even with the A-7 taking precedence, the FAP continued interest in acquiring the F-5 for the air defense role and as a proper replacement for the outdated F-86F Sabre.
As such, a delegation was sent to Norway in July 1979 to evaluate F-5A/B aircraft of the Royal Norwegian Air Force. This offer was turned down, since the offered 11 F-5As turned out to require considerable repairs due to cracks found in the airframe. Furthermore, the FAP was particularly interested in twin-seat F-5 fighters, but the RNoAF did not plan on retiring any of its F-5B aircraft at that time. In November 1984, the United States offered four F-5As with spare engines to Portugal, but this offer was also declined, since the aircraft had already logged over 3,000 flight hours and needed thorough repair, too. In the same year, the RNoAF made a new offer of 15 to 20 F-5A/Bs, but this time the FAP declined, once more due to the airframes’ age and poor condition.
Unable to purchase any F-5 in decent condition, the FAP studied in the meantime the procurement of other second-hand fighters like the French Mirage IIIs or the SAAB 35 Draken. Negotiations with France, even though the preferred partner and with the intention to procure Mirage V fighter bombers, too, went nowhere. Eventually, a deal with Sweden could be settled in 1985 and the Saab 35 was chosen as the FAP’s new air superiority fighter.
The Draken had been developed during the 1940s and 1950s to replace Sweden's first generation of jet-powered fighter aircraft, the Saab J 29 Tunnan and, later, the fighter variant (J 32 B) of the Saab 32 Lansen. Fully developed in Sweden, the Draken was introduced into service with the Swedish Air Force in 1960 under the designation J 35 (the prefix J standing for “Jakt”, meaning “pursuit”). Early models were intended purely to perform air defense missions and the type was considered to be a capable dogfighter for the Cold War era. Later models were technically very advanced and the J 35 underwent a constant development that led to a long line of variants with several upgrades.
By the 1980s, the Swedish Air Force’s Drakens had largely been replaced by the more advanced Saab 37 Viggen fighter, while the introduction of the more capable Saab JAS 39 Gripen fighter was expected in service within a decade, although delayed. Many J 35s of earlier versions, primarily the D type as well as some early J 35 F, were therefore mothballed and/or offered for sale. Takers were Finland and Austria, some Draken also sold to private operators in the United States. A dedicated export version for Denmark, rather a strike aircraft than an interceptor, was built, too.
The FAP was interested in the J 35 F, since these aircraft were the most modern Draken variant at the time and the relatively young airframes promised a long service life. An initial batch of eight aircraft – six single seaters plus a pair of two-seat trainers – was leased by Portugal and delivered in 1986. These were effectively refurbished former Swedish Saab J 35 F interceptors and Sk 35 C trainers. Internally at Saab, the Draken versions for Portugal were designated Saab J or Sk 35 XP (“X” for export and “P” for Portugal), but this designation was not adopted officially.
For Portugal, the machines were stripped off of specialized Swedish equipment and instead outfitted with NATO-compatible avionics and other updates like the Hawé mods I & II on the P/S-01/011 radar sets to improve its resistance to ECM. In contrast to the Swedish Saab J 35 F, the avionics that were necessary to deploy the Rb 27 and Rb 28 missiles (Hughes AIM-4 Falcon with radar and IR guidance) were removed and the second gun reinstalled. The J 35 F’s IR sensor under the nose was retained and a Sherloc radar warning system of French origin, as well as chaff/flare dispensers, were added, too.
In Portuguese service, the machines were called Saab 35 FP and TP and dubbed “Dragõe”. The fighters’ main armament were, beyond the internal 30 mm cannons, AIM-9 Sidewinders. Typically, a pair of these missiles was carried under the wings, together with a pair of 500 l drop tanks under the fuselage, since the Draken had no in-flight refueling capability and just a range of 1.120 km (696 mi) in clean configuration and with internal fuel only. The machines retained a secondary strike capability, though, with iron bombs of up to 1.000 lb caliber, napalm tanks and unguided missiles in pods. The trainers were unarmed but could carry an optional single 500 l drop tank on a ventral hardpoint.
The leased aircraft batch arrived in bare metal finish, but, due to the country’s proximity to the open sea, they quickly received an overall coat with a grey anti-corrosive lacquer. They were allocated to Esquadra 201 "Falcões" at Monte Real air base, where they replaced the last operational F-86F’s. They were officially allocated to an interceptor role, but effectively they were primarily used for conversion training, together with the T-38’s which had been based at Monte Real since 1977, too.
With enough trained Draken crews at hand, a second batch of former Swedish Draken (this time twelve single seaters plus two more trainers) was bought and delivered in 1987, the machines from the initial leasing batch were eventually bought, too. This small fleet was split between Esquadra 201 and 103 (the latter at Beja air base), so that the FAP could now field two fully operational interceptor squadrons. Upon arrival, the new machines received a tactical camouflage with toned-down national and the J 35s from the initial batch were re-painted accordingly.
The ongoing process of the modernization of the Portuguese Air Force also included the launching of the SICCAP/PoACCS (Portugal Air Command and Control System) project, which was a pioneer in adopting the new architecture and concept of the NATO ACCS, being intended to replace Portugal’s old SDA air defense system. As part of these project, the air surveillance and detection units were re-equipped, including the reception of new radars and the air control center at Monsanto was enhanced. The Saab 35 FPs became an integral part of this system, so that interceptors could be guided from the ground towards potential targets.
This scenario did not last long, though: The end of the Cold War caused the Portuguese Air Force to accompany the shift of the focus of the Portuguese Armed Forces from a conventional war in Europe against the Warsaw Pact forces to the international peace enforcement missions. The FAP started to participate in a number of missions by itself or in support of missions led by the Army and the Navy, but the Saab 35s were not involved since they remained, due to their small number, dedicated to Portugal’s air space patrol and defense.
With the arrival of the first F-16 Fighting Falcon in 1994, the Saab 35s, as well as the FAP’s A-7 Corsair IIs, were gradually retired and fully replaced until 1998.
The last Saab 35 in Swedish service was retired in 1999, the last Saab 35 Draken was withdrawn from military use in Austria in 2005 – 50 years after the type first flew. However, several aircraft still fly today in private operators’ service.
General characteristics:
Crew: 1
Length: 15.35 m (50 ft 4 in)
Wingspan: 9.42 m (30 ft 11 in)
Height: 3.89 m (12 ft 9 in)
Wing area: 49.2 m2 (530 ft²)
Airfoil: 5%
Empty weight: 7,865 kg (17,339 lb)
Gross weight: 11,000 kg (24,251 lb)
Max takeoff weight: 11,914 kg (26,266 lb)
Powerplant:
1× Svenska Flygmotor RM6C (license-built Rolls Royce Avon with Swedish afterburner)
turbojet engine, 56.5 kN (12,700 lbf) thrust dry, 78.4 kN (17,600 lbf) with afterburner
Performance:
Maximum speed: 2,450 km/h (1,520 mph, 1,320 kn) at 11,000 m (36,089 ft)
Maximum speed: Mach 2
Range: 1.120 km (605 nmi; 696 mi); clean, internal fuel only
Ferry range: 2,750 km (1,480 nmi; 1,710 mi) with four external 500 l drop tanks
Service ceiling: 20,000 m (66,000 ft)
Rate of climb: 199 m/s (39,200 ft/min)
Wing loading: 231.6 kg/m² (47.4 lb/ft²)
Thrust/weight: 0.7
Takeoff roll: 800 m (2,625 ft)
Armament:
2× 30 mm AKAN M/55 ADEN cannon with 100 rounds per gun
4× hardpoints with a capacity of 2,900 kg (6,393 lb); typical interceptor ordnance:
2× 500 l ventral drop tanks and 2× AIM-9 Sidewinder under the wings
The kit and its assembly:
This what-if model came as a spontaneous idea when I browsed through the WWW for inspiration. I stumbled upon the history of the Portuguese Air Force and the fact that it did not operate any dedicated interceptor for 15 years – this task was taken over by the PAF’s A-7s(!) until the F-16 arrived in the Nineties This gap offered a lot of whiffing potential, and I had actually considered to build a whiffy FAP Mirage III for some time, since I knew that this was, together with the F-5, the favored type. However, there was also serious consideration of the Saab 35 as potential fighter alternative, too!
I found this idea so weird/exotic that I decided to build a Draken in FAP colors. The kit is the Hasegawa model, in a Revell re-boxing. I also considered the vintage Revell Saab 35 (a mold from 1957!), but after I saw the kit in a current re-boxing from Polish company Akkura, I took the chance of a reasonably priced Hasegawa kit instead. While the Akkura kit is crisply molded, it would take a lot of work to create a satisfactory “modern” Draken from it. I also had a Heller kit in store (my personal favorite), but I did not want to “sacrifice” it for this project.
The Hasegawa/Revell kit was basically built OOB. The kit is a simple, straightforward affair, with fine recessed engravings and good fit, but it’s IMHO far from extraordinary. It also has its flaws: the dashboard is totally blank, any instruments have to be created by yourself or taken from the decal sheet. There are ejection marks on the wheels and the landing gear covers, and the fit quality of some areas (e .g. the seam between the fuselage and the afterburner section) calls for PSR. The two-piece canopy is thin, very clear and fits well, the landing gear is sufficiently detailed – including the interior of the main landing gear wells.
For the FAP version I did not change much; I just replaced the seat (which OOB looks fine, I just wanted “something else”), added a radar warning antenna to the fin’s tip and chaff dispensers around the tail section, all carved from styrene profiles.
Unfortunately, the Revell re-boxing just comes with a pair of launch rails and underwing pylons, but no AA weapons at all. That’s acceptable for the anniversary machine that you can build from the kit, but leaves the other option, a grey, Swedish J35 H, without any ordnance.
The drop tanks on my build are OOB, together with their ventral hardpoints, and I added a pair of decent AIM-9J Sidewinders from a Hasegawa air-to-air weapon set for a suitable interceptor ordnance. The launch rails were recycled from the kit: they are actually missile rails with attachment points to mount them under the air intakes. The rails were separated and then attached to the OOB underwing pylons, this worked very well.
Painting and markings:
The livery was not an easy choice. Initially I favored a uniform pale grey livery with blue squadron markings, inspired by the late F-86s of FAP 51 squadron, but found this, despite being a plausible look for an interceptor, to look quite boring. For the same reason I rejected an Austria-style “Hill II” scheme or a light-grey USN-inspired “Compass Ghost” livery. The Hellenic “Ghost” wraparound scheme was another potential option, but I recently used something similar on another whif build (the Catalonian L-159 ALCA), and it would not have a typically Portuguese Cold War look.
Keeping in style with the FAP’s livery fashion during the Eighties, I rather settled upon a USAF SEA scheme, which was carried by many PAF aircraft during the Eighties, e .g. the A-7P, the G.91, and their replacement from 1993 onwards, the Alpha Jet. Instead of a wraparound version for ground attack aircraft, I rather gave the Draken light grey undersides.
The camouflage pattern itself was improvised, since I did not want to copy an existing delta wing aircraft (e.g. the USAF’s F-102 or F-106 SEA pattern, or the Belgian Mirage Vs). The basic colors are Humbrol 75 (Bronze Green; the authentic tone is FS 34079, but this lacks IMHO contrast to the lighter green), 117 (FS 34102) and 118 (FS 30219) from above, and Humbrol 28 (FS 36622) underneath.
A large ventral section was, typical for the J 35, left in bare metal, since leaking fuel and oil would frequently eat away any paint there. The section was painted with Steel Metallizer (ModelMaster) and later treated with Matt Aluminum Metallizer (Humbrol).
Internal details like the cockpit and the landing gear were painted with the help of Swedish and Austrian Saab 35 reference pictures. The cockpit tub was painted in a dark, bluish green (Humbrol 76) with grey-green (Revell 67) side walls. A piece of paper tissue covers the cockpit’s back wall, since the kit leaves a visible and rather ugly seam there, which is only partly hidden behind the seat.
The landing gear and its respective wells were painted with Humbrol 56 (Aluminum Dope), parts of the struts were painted in a bright turquoise (a mix of Humbrol 89 and 80; looks quite weird, but I like such details!). The front wheel received a dark green mudguard (Humbrol 30), the same color was also partially used on the extended emergency current generator. Missiles and launch rails were painted in gloss white (Humbrol 22).
As per usual, the model received a light black ink wash and some post-shading in order to emphasize the panels and dramatize the surface. Some extra weathering was done around the gun ports and the jet nozzle with graphite.
For markings I used the contemporary A-7Ps as benchmark: they were minimal, there were even no squadron markings or other decorations, and I think they even lacked roundels on their wings!
I gave the Draken slightly more markings: The small FAP roundels come from a PrintScale A/T-37 sheet, the fin flashes are from a TL Modellbai sheet and the tactical codes belong to a Japanese T-4 trainer. Most stencils were taken from the Revell OOB sheet, which also includes decals for the reddish sealer around the cockpit windows.
I didn’t want to leave the Draken without any squadron marking, though, so I gave it a blue band on top of the fin, as a reminiscence of the FAP 51 squadron’s markings, the former final F-86 operator which became 201 squadron in the early Eighties. These were simply done with layered white and blue decal stripes.
Finally, the model was sealed with matt acrylic varnish (Italeri), except for the black radome, which received a sheen varnish coat.
A relatively simple whif project, since the model was mostly built OOB with just minor cosmetic changes. However, despite its exotic operator, the USAF South East Asia scheme suits the Draken well, the whole thing looks disturbingly convincing!?
It’s also a kind of tribute build for “Sport16ing”, apparently a great fan of my what-if builds who frequently re-posts pictures and background stories (with kind permission to do so!) at deviantart.com.
A couple weeks ago I was given an assignment in a photography course to photograph what I see in my physical and social environment - nothing monumental or exotic, just to really SEE and photograph things around me. One of the things I love about photography is that it really does make me look at everything as if through a lens - looking for something interesting out of something ordinary. For two weeks I have tried and tried. I took pictures of clothes in my closet, stuff on my bathroom sink, a stethoscope at work and cat accoutrements in a plastic storage bin. My most honest critics came right out and told me that these pictures didn't work - I was trying too hard. Finally, I joked to George that what I really see in my every day environment are fur balls and kitty litter. So I sprawled out on the dirty floor (dried snow, rain, mud and salt) to photograph one of the many handy fur balls. Then I noticed Jimmy sitting right by me. I moved the direction of my lens slightly and took one shot before he got up and walked away. It's the picture I like best. Let's face it - in my own environment, what I really see are Jimmy, Mack and Ella.
I'll turn in Jimmy and the fur ball pictures to my instructor. It and my four rejects are in the comments. They are the 5 comments following my mom's glowing compliment of Jimmy - unless she figures out how to edit the time of her comment. lol
Back in early 2012, I was given a quick ring by Matt telling me to get across to Sutton's Idlewells Shopping Centre for a promotional photo shoot for The Threes, as Trent Barton were wanting groups of three people to appear on the backs of each of the new buses when they entered service, the possibility of us featuring on one of them!!
When I got there, we went through the list they had, and the one that caught our attention was Threes Musketeers. So with that in mind, we hotfooted over to Home Bargains for some plastic toy swords that were like a quid each and entered the shoot.
Much to our surprise, we were chosen for one, with the tagline 'why fight the traffic to college?'. College?? I was 24 at the time of the photo, in full time employment, so I took that as a real result!! Ever since, the three of us have been gracing the Nottingham, Hucknall, Kirkby, Sutton and Mansfield corridor with our faces, and hopefully will continue to do so for a while yet....
811 enters Nottingham Victoria Bus Station with a 3C, all ready to head back out to Mansfield on the 3A via the world.
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I would like to say a huge and heartfelt 'THANK YOU' to GETTY IMAGES, and the 38.260+ Million visitors to my FLICKR site.
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Photograph taken at an altitude of Fifty six metres at 10:00am on a cold winter morning on Saturday 13th February 2021 off Woolwich Road A206 and New Road in the grounds of Lesnes Abbey Woods in the London Borough of Bexley, England.
Here we see an adult Carrion crow (Corvus corone) is a passerine bird of the family Corvidae and the genus Corvus which is native to western Europe and eastern Asia. It can grow to twenty inches in length with a wingspan of up to thirty nine inches.
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Nikon D850 Hand held with Sigma OS Optical Stabilization enabled on normal setting. Focal length 600mm Shutter speed: 1/320s (Electronic front-curtain) Aperture f/6.3 ISO1000 Image area FX (36 x 24) NEF RAW L (8256 x 5504). NEF RAW L (14 bit uncompressed) Focus mode AF-C focus. AF-C Priority Selection: Release. Nikon Back button focusing enabled. 3D Tracking watch area: Normal 55 Tracking points.AF-Area mode single point & 73 point switchable. Exposure mode: Manual mode. Matrix metering. White balance on: Auto1 (5300K). Colour space: RGB. Vignette control: Normal. Picture control: Auto (Sharpening A +1/Clarity A+1)
Sigma 60-600mm f/4.5-6.3DG OS HSM SPORTS. Lee SW150 MKI filter holder with MK2 light shield and custom made velcro fitting for the Sigma lens. Lee SW150 circular polariser glass filter.Lee SW150 Filters field pouch.Nikon GP-1 GPS module. Hoodman HEYENRG round eyepiece oversized eyecup.Mcoplus professional MB-D850 multi function battery grip 6960.Two Nikon EN-EL15a batteries (Priority to battery in Battery grip). Black Rapid Curve Breathe strap. My Memory 128GB Class 10 SDXC 80MB/s card. Lowepro Flipside 400 AW camera bag.
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LATITUDE: N 51d 29m 11.57s
LONGITUDE: E 0d 8m 12.02s
ALTITUDE: 56.0m
RAW (TIFF) FILE: 130.00MB NEF: 91.5MB
PROCESSED (JPeg) FILE: 29.20MB
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PROCESSING POWER:
Nikon D850 Firmware versions C 1.10 (9/05/2019) LD Distortion Data 2.018 (18/02/20) LF 1.00
HP 110-352na Desktop PC with AMD Quad-Core A6-5200 APU 64Bit processor. Radeon HD8400 graphics. 8 GB DDR3 Memory with 1TB Data storage. 64-bit Windows 10. Verbatim USB 2.0 1TB desktop hard drive. WD My Passport Ultra 1tb USB3 Portable hard drive. Nikon ViewNX-1 64bit Version 1.4.1 (18/02/2020). Nikon Capture NX-D 64bit Version 1.6.2 (18/02/2020). Nikon Picture Control Utility 2 (Version 2.4.5 (18/02/2020). Nikon Transfer 2 Version 2.13.5. Adobe photoshop Elements 8 Version 8.0 64bit.
St Andrew, Honingham, Norfolk
I had almost given up hope of seeing inside Honingham church, until my friend John told me he'd arranged for it to be open, and would I like to come along? In truth, I was wary about meeting a character I had encountered at the church some ten years previously; not so much for what had happened, but that I had written about it in some detail afterwards. I was a little apprehensive, therefore, to turn up and discover that the man opening the church was the same one I had met all those years before. But it didn't matter, because he didn't remember me, and probably had never read what I had written.
And I found I liked Honingham church rather more than I had expected to. There is a rich atmosphere of the last decade of the 19th Century and the first decade of the 20th, and the Victorian glass is really very good. It can't have much of a congregation, and I decided that it was essentially a churchwarden's hobby church, a fiefdom. He obviously did everything here, kept in in good order looking spick and span and shipshape, and locked it determinedly against anyone who wanted to see inside without attending a service. I imagined that even God would have to wipe his feet and mumble apologetically if he wanted to get inside. All well and good for now, but once the churchwarden has gone it will soon be lost to us.
In 2006, I wrote: This big, locked, Perpendicular building, the nave and chancel rebuilt by the Victorians, is surrounded by a wide graveyard. On the north side there are sparsely scattered headstones, but to the south the church is set within a wide murderous curve of the A47. To describe this church as a landmark on the road is to assume that it would be safe to look up from the wheel to spot it; the stretch of the road between here and Hockering has claimed more deaths than any other since the A47 was taken outside the villages. I'm not suggesting that the church is responsible for this, of course, just that spotting it shouldn't be one of your priorities.
If a Martian came down and landed in the graveyard of St Andrew, Honingham, what on earth he would make of it? Would he think it was an art object? A barn, or storage facility? Or would he search for an industrial purpose? Perhaps the tall pinnacles on the tower might suggest to him that he was at the site of a scientific experiment. If the Martian had any brains, and I assume that he would have if he'd made it this far, he might perceive that the road is a lot newer than the church, and perhaps he would decide that the church was a relic of the past, its function now sidelined, perhaps forgotten altogether. Indeed, he might wonder if the road had been built deliberately to speed humans past this building and the tall stones set around it.
Perhaps this was a dangerous place. Or, maybe, it was simply an embarrassing reminder of past superstitions, a haunted site. An unlucky place, perhaps. The Martian might watch the traffic hurtling past, the drivers deliberately not looking, and think yes, that must be right. Whatever he decided, it would have to be based on a survey of the exterior, because St Andrew is always locked, unless the Sunday club is in session. He wouldn't even be able to look through the windows, because they are filled with frosted quarries.
Eventually, he might find the porch, and think it is some sort of antechamber (not an entrance, of course, for the doors beyond are locked) and for a moment ponder the holy water stoup, now filled with an old birds nest. What on earth would he make, I wonder, of the signboard on the wall that reads in part:
Friend, you have come to this church. Leave it not without a prayer.
No one entering a house ignores him who dwells in it.
This is the house of God, and He is here.
Pray, then, to him who loves you, and bids you welcome, and awaits your greeting.
A lovely sentiment, no doubt; but the Martian would still be left locked out of the house of God - if it is the house of God, of course, for if the locks and chains keep out the stranger and the pilgrim, how on earth can it be that God is in there to bid us welcome?
My friend Peter had been trying to see inside this church for years. We came this way most recently in early March, 2006. The day had started in bright sun, but as we headed here from Marlingford the east wind blew sheets of glacial cloud above us, which turned grey and, as we parked the car, turned to snow. Parking is difficult; there is a layby, but you need to approach from the west to park here. Otherwise, there is a drive which goes up to the east end of thechurch, but this was already occupied by a large BMW estate. We parked in the layby, and sat in the car for a moment, watching the fat flakes thicken.
What to do? We decided that we might just as well get out and go and take a look. Either, by some miracle, the church would be open and offer us shelter, or we could confirm our prejudices about the perpetual locking of St Andrew and be on our way.
The south side of the church has been cleared of headstones, and they have been placed in two perfectly straight lines, about 15 m apart. What would the Martian make of this? Some sort of sports arena, perhaps? Or a place to worship the sun at the solstice?
Our Martian couldn't possibly be expected to know about the great lawnmower enthusiasm of the 1960s and 1970s, when so many graveyards were cleared like this one. But the dead have their revenge, and this wide open space is now scattered with an acne of molehills.
We got into the porch and tried the inner door, which was locked of course; although it did feel as though one great shove with a shoulder would probably open it. And that was when the heavens opened. The snow was so thick in the air we could only just make out the suicidal cars thrashing up the main road to and from the Midlands. Peter is a careful driver, and he didn't much fancy heading on in a blizzard, and there didn't seem much point getting caked in snow just to go back and sit in the car, so we sheltered from the weather in the porch, and read the notices miserably.
I noticed that the presentation to the living had been suspended, which sounds drastic but simply means that the parish can't afford a Rector. The annual accounts were posted, and I noticed that the total income for the year was roughly the same as the weekly income of the church I attend in the middle of Ipswich, so this is a small parish. Eventually, I exhausted the possibilities of the noticeboard, and, feeling that I had probably squeezed the last ounce of pleasure out of the porch, I gazed out at the graveyard. This was when I noticed something rather curious. The back of the BMW estate was open, and beyond the second line of gravestones a smartly dressed man was standing in the snow bashing molehills with a spade.
At first I thought this must be an act of devotion on the part of a parishioner, or simply a Saturday morning habit. And then I wondered if it might be some kind of East Anglian country lore: if in the snow you clear his stack, mister mole will not be back. Perhaps this man had been waiting for it to snow for months.
We watched him for a while, the snow blanketing the sound of his spade into silence, rendering it surreal. But the wind was vicious, and so we stepped back into the porch, and worked out where we wanted to go next. It was while we were pondering over the map that we heard footsteps, and looking up saw that the smartly dressed man had approached us. He looked at us quizzically.
"Just here out of interest?" he asked.
"Well, we'd like to be", I replied, indicating the door. "But the church is locked."
This was such a heavy hint that, once dropped, it hit the floor with a loud clang. Surely, if this man had a key, he'd give it to us, or let us in. But he just smiled sadly and nodded in agreement, as if to say yes, the church was locked, and there was nothing he could do about it. Perhaps he'd been trying to see inside for years as well. Instead, the three of us exchanged a few polite comments about the weather, and he wandered off back to the moles.
The snow gradually thinned, and at last it stopped. We stepped out, examining the sky for signs. An uneasy truce had set in. Just a thin dusting remained on the grass to show that it had ever snowed; the sun was edging to come out, the white rime on the green fading, but there were more sheets of greying clouds huddled off in the distance. It was time to go. We wanted to make a statement of some kind, and so we left the porch gates open, as if to suggest that the the doors were not barred, and that God was in His dwelling house waiting to bid a welcome.
But by the time we got back to the car and headed eastwards past the church, someone had already closed them.
Barfreston and the surrounding lands were given as a fief by William the Conqueror to the De Port family (from Port-en-Bessin in Normandy) for services rendered at the Castle of Dover, at a time when Odo, half-brother of William, was both earl of Kent and bishop of Bayeux in Normandy. This French family built the parochial church that was dedicated to Saint Nicholas.
One of the most remarkable Romanesque (aka “Norman”) churches in the United Kingdom, Barfreston was built with local flintstone for the lower parts of the wall, and in “pierre de Caen”, a kind of limestone found in Normandy and lending itself quite well to sculpture, for the upper parts. Most of the church was built during the late 11th century, with some parts remodeled around 1180 by Hugo’s grandson. While the outside remains very genuine, the inside of this church was unfortunately completely ravaged by Victorian “restorers”: alfresco wall paintings from the late 1100s disappeared forever in this disaster, and only drawings of them remain. In this respect, English monuments were not better treated than their counterparts in France —in fact, it was often even worse. The apse wall, in particular, with its great rose, was entirely rebuilt in the 19th century, although mostly with original stones, as least for the decorated upper part.
The big Romanesque rose (or wheel window) with its French-influenced, wheel-like spokes and monsters pretending to consume them into their gaping maws... Surrounding the rose is an interesting and picturesque gallery of monsters from the Mediæval bestiary.
Notice the lineup of grotesque modillions: it runs all around the church, not only under the roof of the side walls.
Notice also a probable Emperor Constantine trampling over Paganism —although the statue is very small and it is unclear whether it is actually trampling over anything... It is also damaged and probably came from somewhere else. This theme is never touched upon in British religious sculpture and reveals a direct influence from Elinor’s Poitou or Saintonge provinces.
Finally, one also hopes to identify severely mutilated symbols of the Evangelists. Those may have come from somewhere else, too, although some scholars opine (without clear documentary proof) that there was at one point a Christ in Majesty somewhere on this gable, and a Tetramorph to accompany Him.
Sheffield a city in South Yorkshire, England.
Sheffield was founded in the early 12th century by the Lord of the manor, William de Lovetot. He built a castle on the site of Castle Market as it was on an easily defended site as it had a river on the north and east. The garrison of the castle provided a market for the townspeople's goods.
In 1297 Sheffield was given a charter of rights for the residents, giving them the right to have a weekly market and an annual fair were held and people would come from all the wider county.
Despite a booming cutlery trade there was a great deal of poverty in Sheffield in the 17th century a survey showed 725 people, about a third of the population were 'not able to live without the charity of their neighbours and 'They are all begging poor'.
During the English Civil War parliamentary soldiers occupied the castle but then they abandoned it when a royalist army and they took the town without a fight. In 1644 the parliamentarians counterattacked, the royalists made no attempt to defend the town but they tried to hold Sheffield castle and were forced to surrender after a short siege.
Sheffield grew rapidly in the 18th century. A survey in 1763 showed it had a population of over 10,000 a large town of the times. In 1768 it was described as 'very large and populous but exceedingly dirty and ill paved'. Sheffield grew to have a reputation as a grimy industrial town.
In 18th century Sheffield industry boomed and was noted for its iron industry. In the early 1740s Benjamin Huntsman invented a way of making better quality steel called crucible steel and Thomas Bolsover discovered a way of plating copper with silver. By 1751 the River Don was made navigable all the way to Sheffield aenabling the goods produced to be transoported
In 1843 Sheffield was given a charter giving townspeople certain rights. this enabled an elected town council, which gradually took over the powers of the old Improvement Commissioners. Sheffield was made a city in 1893 and the Town Hall was built in 1897.
In the early 19th century a private company provided piped water and built a dam across Dale Dike. In 1864 the dam burst resulting in 240 people drowned in Sheffield. The council took over the water supply and the council built sewers and drains. At first raw sewage was pumped into rivers but in 1886 a sewage treatment plant was built.
In 1899 the the old industries like iron and button making continued to boom. In 1856 Henry Bessemer invented a way of producing better quality steel and a way was found to make silver plate by electroplating replacing the old Sheffield plate.
In 1916 Sheffield was bombed by German zeppelins leaving 28 people dead. After World War I the heavy industries of Sheffield entered a recession and there was severe unemployment in the city in the 1920-30s. That era also marked the beginning of large-scale slum clearance and the first council houses were built in Sheffield at that time. During the Second World War 589 people were killed in Sheffield by German bombing and nearly 3,000 houses were destroyed.
Information gained from www.localhistories.org/sheffield.html
Peter Paul Rubens -
Briseis given back to Achilles [1630-35]
53.356 Detroit Institute of Arts
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This small panel is part of a series of eight oil sketches made for a group of tapestries depicting the story of Achilles, one of the heroes of the Greek epic poem the Illiad. As if on a stage, all the important characters are present. The painting is remarkable for the apparent swiftness and ease of its execution, the brightness of palette, and the sensitive rendering of the protagonists' emotions.
During the Greeks' campaign against Troy, Achilles had been awarded the lovely Briseis as part of his share of the booty. When the expedition leader Agamemnon took her for himself, Achilles refused to participate in any further battles. He reconsidered, however, after his best friend Patroclus was killed and Agamemnon restored Briseis untouched to him.
www.dia.org/art/collection/object/briseis-given-back-achi...
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A very comprehensive and useful description of the story and the components of Rubens' series of eight scenes from the life of Achilles (from the draft over the modello to the final tapestries)
medium.com/@kv.achilles/the-life-of-achilles-epic-tapestr...
Notre-Dame de Paris (French: [nɔtʁ(ə) dam də paʁi] ⓘ; meaning "Our Lady of Paris"), referred to simply as Notre-Dame,[a] is a medieval Catholic cathedral on the Île de la Cité (an island in the Seine River), in the 4th arrondissement of Paris, France. The cathedral, dedicated to the Virgin Mary, is considered one of the finest examples of French Gothic architecture. Several attributes set it apart from the earlier Romanesque style, particularly its pioneering use of the rib vault and flying buttress, its enormous and colourful rose windows, and the naturalism and abundance of its sculptural decoration.[5] Notre-Dame also stands out for its three pipe organs (one historic) and its immense church bells.[6]
Built during medieval France, construction of the cathedral began in 1163 under Bishop Maurice de Sully and was largely completed by 1260, though it was modified in succeeding centuries. In the 1790s, during the French Revolution, Notre-Dame suffered extensive desecration; much of its religious imagery was damaged or destroyed. In the 19th century, the coronation of Napoleon and the funerals of many of the French Republic's presidents took place at the cathedral. The 1831 publication of Victor Hugo's novel Notre-Dame de Paris (in English: The Hunchback of Notre-Dame) inspired interest which led to restoration between 1844 and 1864, supervised by Eugène Viollet-le-Duc. On 26 August 1944, the Liberation of Paris from German occupation was celebrated in Notre-Dame with the singing of the Magnificat. Beginning in 1963, the cathedral's façade was cleaned of soot and grime. Another cleaning and restoration project was carried out between 1991 and 2000.[7]
The cathedral is a widely recognized symbol of the city of Paris and the French nation. In 1805, it was awarded honorary status as a minor basilica. As the cathedral of the archdiocese of Paris, Notre-Dame contains the cathedra of the archbishop of Paris (currently Laurent Ulrich). In the early 21st century, approximately 12 million people visited Notre-Dame annually, making it the most visited monument in Paris.[8] The cathedral is renowned for its Lent sermons, a tradition founded in the 1830s by the Dominican Jean-Baptiste Henri Lacordaire. These sermons have increasingly been given by leading public figures or government-employed academics.
Over time, the cathedral has gradually been stripped of many decorations and artworks. However, the cathedral still contains Gothic, Baroque, and 19th-century sculptures, 17th- and early 18th-century altarpieces, and some of the most important relics in Christendom – including the Crown of Thorns, and a sliver and nail from the True Cross.
On 15 April 2019, while Notre-Dame was undergoing renovation and restoration, its roof caught fire and burned for 15 hours. The cathedral sustained serious damage. The flèche (the timber spirelet over the crossing) was destroyed, as was most of the lead-covered wooden roof above the stone vaulted ceiling.[9] This contaminated the site and nearby environment with lead.[10] Restoration proposals suggested modernizing the cathedral, but the French National Assembly rejected them, enacting a law in July 2019 that required the restoration preserve the cathedral's "historic, artistic and architectural interest".[11] The task of stabilizing the building against potential collapse was completed in November 2020.[12] The cathedral is expected to reopen on 8 December 2024; the date was confirmed by President Macron.
Key dates
4th century – Cathedral of Saint Étienne, dedicated to Saint Stephen, built just west of present cathedral.[14]
1163 – Bishop Maurice de Sully begins construction of new cathedral.[14]
1182 or 1185 – Choir completed, clerestory with two levels: upper level of upright windows with pointed arches, still without tracery, lower level of small rose windows.
c. 1200 – Construction of nave, with flying buttresses, completed.
c. 1210–1220 – Construction of towers begins.
c. 1210–1220 – Two new traverses join towers with nave. West rose window complete in 1220.
After 1220 – New flying buttresses added to choir walls, remodeling of the clerestories: pointed arched windows are enlarged downward, replacing the triforia, and get tracery.
1235–1245 – Chapels constructed between buttresses of nave and choir.
1250–1260 – North transept lengthened by Jean de Chelles to provide more light. North rose window constructed.[15]
1270 – South transept and rose window completed by Pierre de Montreuil.[16]
1699 – Beginning of major redecoration of interior in Louis XIV style by Hardouin Mansart and Robert de Cotte.[17]
1725–1727 – South rose window, poorly built, is reconstructed. Later entirely rebuilt in 1854.
1790 – In the French Revolution the Revolutionary Paris Commune removes all bronze, lead, and precious metals from the cathedral to be melted down.[16]
1793 – The cathedral is converted into a Temple of Reason and then Temple of the Supreme Being.
1801–1802 – With the Concordat of 1801, Napoleon restores the use of the cathedral (though not ownership) to the Catholic Church.
1804 – On 2 December, Napoleon crowns himself Emperor at Notre-Dame.
1805 – The cathedral is conceded the honor of minor basilica by Pope Pius VII, making it the first minor basilica outside of Italy.[18]
1844–1864 – Major restoration by Jean-Baptiste Lassus and Eugène Viollet-le-Duc with additions in the spirit of the original Gothic style.[19]
1871 – In final days of the Paris Commune, Communards attempt unsuccessfully to burn the cathedral.
1944 – On 26 August, General Charles de Gaulle celebrates the Liberation of Paris with a special Mass at Notre-Dame.
1949 – On 26 April, the Archbishop of Paris, Emmanuel Célestin Suhard, crowns the venerated image of Our Lady of Guadalupe in the name of Pope Pius XII.
1963 – Culture Minister André Malraux orders the cleaning of the cathedral façade of centuries of grime and soot.
2019 – On 15 April, a fire destroys a large part of the roof and the flèche.
2021 – Reconstruction begins two years after the fire that destroyed a large part of the roof and the flèche.
2024 - Expected reopening of the Cathedral to occur on 8 December.
It is believed that before the arrival of Christianity in France, a Gallo-Roman temple dedicated to Jupiter stood on the site of Notre-Dame. Evidence for this includes the Pillar of the Boatmen, discovered beneath the cathedral in 1710. In the 4th or 5th century, a large early Christian church, the Cathedral of Saint Étienne, was built on the site, close to the royal palace.[14] The entrance was situated about 40 metres (130 ft) west of the present west front of Notre-Dame, and the apse was located about where the west façade is today. It was roughly half the size of the later Notre-Dame, 70 metres (230 ft) long—and separated into nave and four aisles by marble columns, then decorated with mosaics.[7][20]
The last church before the cathedral of Notre-Dame was a Romanesque remodeling of Saint-Étienne that, although enlarged and remodeled, was found to be unfit for the growing population of Paris.[21][b] A baptistery, the Church of Saint-John-le-Rond, built about 452, was located on the north side of the west front of Notre-Dame until the work of Jacques-Germain Soufflot in the 18th century.[23]
In 1160, the Bishop of Paris, Maurice de Sully,[23] decided to build a new and much larger church. He summarily demolished the earlier cathedral and recycled its materials.[21] Sully decided that the new church should be built in the Gothic style, which had been inaugurated at the royal abbey of Saint Denis in the late 1130s.
The chronicler Jean de Saint-Victor [fr] recorded in the Memorial Historiarum that the construction of Notre-Dame began between 24 March and 25 April 1163 with the laying of the cornerstone in the presence of King Louis VII and Pope Alexander III.[24][25] Four phases of construction took place under bishops Maurice de Sully and Eudes de Sully (not related to Maurice), according to masters whose names have been lost. Analysis of vault stones that fell in the 2019 fire shows that they were quarried in Vexin, a county northwest of Paris, and presumably brought up the Seine by ferry.
The first phase began with the construction of the choir and its two ambulatories. According to Robert of Torigni, the choir was completed in 1177 and the high altar consecrated on 19 May 1182 by Cardinal Henri de Château-Marçay, the Papal legate in Paris, and Maurice de Sully.[28][failed verification] The second phase, from 1182 to 1190, concerned the construction of the four sections of the nave behind the choir and its aisles to the height of the clerestories. It began after the completion of the choir but ended before the final allotted section of the nave was finished. Beginning in 1190, the bases of the façade were put in place, and the first traverses were completed.[7] Heraclius of Caesarea called for the Third Crusade in 1185 from the still-incomplete cathedral.
Louis IX deposited the relics of the passion of Christ, which included the Crown of thorns, a nail from the Cross and a sliver of the Cross, which he had purchased at great expense from the Latin Emperor Baldwin II, in the cathedral during the construction of the Sainte-Chapelle. An under-shirt, believed to have belonged to Louis, was added to the collection of relics at some time after his death.
Transepts were added at the choir, where the altar was located, in order to bring more light into the centre of the church. The use of simpler four-part rather than six-part rib vaults meant that the roofs were stronger and could be higher. After Bishop Maurice de Sully's death in 1196, his successor, Eudes de Sully oversaw the completion of the transepts, and continued work on the nave, which was nearing completion at the time of his death in 1208. By this time, the western façade was already largely built, though it was not completed until around the mid-1240s. Between 1225 and 1250 the upper gallery of the nave was constructed, along with the two towers on the west façade.
Another significant change came in the mid-13th century, when the transepts were remodelled in the latest Rayonnant style; in the late 1240s Jean de Chelles added a gabled portal to the north transept topped by a spectacular rose window. Shortly afterward (from 1258) Pierre de Montreuil executed a similar scheme on the southern transept. Both these transept portals were richly embellished with sculpture; the south portal depicts scenes from the lives of Saint Stephen and of various local saints, while the north portal featured the infancy of Christ and the story of Theophilus in the tympanum, with a highly influential statue of the Virgin and Child in the trumeau.[30][29] Master builders Pierre de Chelles, Jean Ravy [fr], Jean le Bouteiller, and Raymond du Temple [fr] succeeded de Chelles and de Montreuil and then each other in the construction of the cathedral. Ravy completed de Chelles's rood screen and chevet chapels, then began the 15-metre (49 ft) flying buttresses of the choir. Jean le Bouteiller, Ravy's nephew, succeeded him in 1344 and was himself replaced on his death in 1363 by his deputy, Raymond du Temple.
Philip the Fair opened the first Estates General in the cathedral in 1302.
An important innovation in the 13th century was the introduction of the flying buttress. Before the buttresses, all of the weight of the roof pressed outward and down to the walls, and the abutments supporting them. With the flying buttress, the weight was carried by the ribs of the vault entirely outside the structure to a series of counter-supports, which were topped with stone pinnacles which gave them greater weight. The buttresses meant that the walls could be higher and thinner, and could have larger windows. The date of the first buttresses is not known with precision beyond an installation date in the 13th century. Art historian Andrew Tallon, however, has argued, based on detailed laser scans of the entire structure, that the buttresses were part of the original design. According to Tallon, the scans indicate that "the upper part of the building has not moved one smidgen in 800 years,"[31] whereas if they were added later some movement from prior to their addition would be expected. Tallon thus concluded that flying buttresses were present from the outset.[31] The first buttresses were replaced by larger and stronger ones in the 14th century; these had a reach of fifteen metres (50') between the walls and counter-supports.[7]
John of Jandun recognized the cathedral as one of Paris's three most important buildings [prominent structures] in his 1323 Treatise on the Praises of Paris:
That most glorious church of the most glorious Virgin Mary, mother of God, deservedly shines out, like the sun among stars. And although some speakers, by their own free judgment, because [they are] able to see only a few things easily, may say that some other is more beautiful, I believe, however, respectfully, that, if they attend more diligently to the whole and the parts, they will quickly retract this opinion. Where indeed, I ask, would they find two towers of such magnificence and perfection, so high, so large, so strong, clothed round about with such multiple varieties of ornaments? Where, I ask, would they find such a multipartite arrangement of so many lateral vaults, above and below? Where, I ask, would they find such light-filled amenities as the many surrounding chapels? Furthermore, let them tell me in what church I may see such a large cross, of which one arm separates the choir from the nave. Finally, I would willingly learn where [there are] two such circles, situated opposite each other in a straight line, which on account of their appearance are given the name of the fourth vowel [O]; among which smaller orbs and circles, with wondrous artifice, so that some arranged circularly, others angularly, surround windows ruddy with precious colours and beautiful with the most subtle figures of the pictures. In fact, I believe that this church offers the carefully discerning such cause for admiration that its inspection can scarcely sate the soul.
— Jean de Jandun, Tractatus de laudibus Parisius
On 16 December 1431, the boy-king Henry VI of England was crowned king of France in Notre-Dame, aged ten, the traditional coronation church of Reims Cathedral being under French control.[33]
During the Renaissance, the Gothic style fell out of style, and the internal pillars and walls of Notre-Dame were covered with tapestries.[34]
In 1548, rioting Huguenots damaged some of the statues of Notre-Dame, considering them idolatrous.[35]
The fountain [fr] in Notre-Dame's parvis was added in 1625 to provide nearby Parisians with running water.[36]
Since 1449, the Parisian goldsmith guild had made regular donations to the cathedral chapter. In 1630, the guild began donating a large altarpiece every year on the first of May. These works came to be known as the grands mays.[37] The subject matter was restricted to episodes from the Acts of the Apostles. The prestigious commission was awarded to the most prominent painters and, after 1648, members of the Académie Royale.
Seventy-six paintings had been donated by 1708, when the custom was discontinued for financial reasons. Those works were confiscated in 1793 and the majority were subsequently dispersed among regional museums in France. Those that remained in the cathedral were removed or relocated within the building by the 19th-century restorers.
Today, thirteen of the grands mays hang in Notre-Dame although these paintings suffered water damage during the fire of 2019 and were removed for conservation.
An altarpiece depicting the Visitation, painted by Jean Jouvenet in 1707, was also located in the cathedral.
The canon Antoine de La Porte commissioned for Louis XIV six paintings depicting the life of the Virgin Mary for the choir. At this same time, Charles de La Fosse painted his Adoration of the Magi, now in the Louvre.[38] Louis Antoine de Noailles, archbishop of Paris, extensively modified the roof of Notre-Dame in 1726, renovating its framing and removing the gargoyles with lead gutters. Noailles also strengthened the buttresses, galleries, terraces, and vaults.[39] In 1756, the cathedral's canons decided that its interior was too dark. The medieval stained glass windows, except the rosettes, were removed and replaced with plain, white glass panes.[34] Lastly, Jacques-Germain Soufflot was tasked with the modification of the portals at the front of the cathedral to allow processions to enter more easily.
After the French Revolution in 1789, Notre-Dame and the rest of the church's property in France was seized and made public property.[40] The cathedral was rededicated in 1793 to the Cult of Reason, and then to the Cult of the Supreme Being in 1794.[41] During this time, many of the treasures of the cathedral were either destroyed or plundered. The twenty-eight statues of biblical kings located at the west façade, mistaken for statues of French kings, were beheaded.[7][42] Many of the heads were found during a 1977 excavation nearby, and are on display at the Musée de Cluny. For a time the Goddess of Liberty replaced the Virgin Mary on several altars.[43] The cathedral's great bells escaped being melted down. All of the other large statues on the façade, with the exception of the statue of the Virgin Mary on the portal of the cloister, were destroyed.[7] The cathedral came to be used as a warehouse for the storage of food and other non-religious purposes.[35]
With the Concordat of 1801, Napoleon Bonaparte restored Notre-Dame to the Catholic Church, though this was only finalized on 18 April 1802. Napoleon also named Paris's new bishop, Jean-Baptiste de Belloy, who restored the cathedral's interior. Charles Percier and Pierre-François-Léonard Fontaine made quasi-Gothic modifications to Notre-Dame for the coronation of Napoleon as Emperor of the French within the cathedral. The building's exterior was whitewashed and the interior decorated in Neoclassical style, then in vogue.
In the decades after the Napoleonic Wars, Notre-Dame fell into such a state of disrepair that Paris officials considered its demolition. Victor Hugo, who admired the cathedral, wrote the novel Notre-Dame de Paris (published in English as The Hunchback of Notre-Dame) in 1831 to save Notre-Dame. The book was an enormous success, raising awareness of the cathedral's decaying state.[7] The same year as Hugo's novel was published, however, anti-Legitimists plundered Notre-Dame's sacristy.[45] In 1844 King Louis Philippe ordered that the church be restored.[7]
The architect who had hitherto been in charge of Notre-Dame's maintenance, Étienne-Hippolyte Godde, was dismissed. In his stead, Jean-Baptiste Lassus and Eugène Viollet-le-Duc, who had distinguished themselves with the restoration of the nearby Sainte-Chapelle, were appointed in 1844. The next year, Viollet-le-Duc submitted a budget of 3,888,500 francs, which was reduced to 2,650,000 francs, for the restoration of Notre-Dame and the construction of a new sacristy building. This budget was exhausted in 1850, and work stopped as Viollet-le-Duc made proposals for more money. In totality, the restoration cost over 12 million francs. Supervising a large team of sculptors, glass makers and other craftsmen, and working from drawings or engravings, Viollet-le-Duc remade or added decorations if he felt they were in the spirit of the original style. One of the latter items was a taller and more ornate flèche, to replace the original 13th-century flèche, which had been removed in 1786.[46] The decoration of the restoration included a bronze roof statue of Saint Thomas that resembles Viollet-le-Duc, as well as the sculpture of mythical creatures on the Galerie des Chimères.[35]
The construction of the sacristy was especially financially costly. To secure a firm foundation, it was necessary for Viollet-le-Duc's labourers to dig 9 metres (30 ft). Master glassworkers meticulously copied styles of the 13th century, as written about by art historians Antoine Lusson and Adolphe Napoléon Didron.[47]
During the Paris Commune of March through May 1871, the cathedral and other churches were closed, and some two hundred priests and the Archbishop of Paris were taken as hostages. In May, during the Semaine sanglante of "Bloody Week", as the army recaptured the city, the Communards targeted the cathedral, along with the Tuileries Palace and other landmarks, for destruction; the Communards piled the furniture together in order to burn the cathedral. The arson was halted when the Communard government realised that the fire would also destroy the neighbouring Hôtel-Dieu hospital, filled with hundreds of patients
During the liberation of Paris in August 1944, the cathedral suffered some minor damage from stray bullets. Some of the medieval glass was damaged, and was replaced by glass with modern abstract designs. On 26 August, a special Mass was held in the cathedral to celebrate the liberation of Paris from the Germans; it was attended by General Charles De Gaulle and General Philippe Leclerc.
In 1963, on the initiative of culture minister André Malraux and to mark the 800th anniversary of the cathedral, the façade was cleaned of the centuries of soot and grime, restoring it to its original off-white colour.[49]
On 19 January 1969, vandals placed a North Vietnamese flag at the top the flèche, and sabotaged the stairway leading to it. The flag was cut from the flèche by Paris Fire Brigade Sergeant Raymond Belle in a daring helicopter mission, the first of its kind in France.[50][51][52]
The Requiem Mass of Charles de Gaulle was held in Notre-Dame on 12 November 1970.[53] The next year, on 26 June 1971, Philippe Petit walked across a tight-rope strung between Notre-Dame's two bell towers entertaining spectators.[54]
After the Magnificat of 30 May 1980, Pope John Paul II celebrated Mass on the parvis of the cathedral.[55]
The Requiem Mass of François Mitterrand was held at the cathedral, as with past French heads of state, on 11 January 1996.[56]
The stone masonry of the cathedral's exterior had deteriorated in the 19th and 20th century due to increased air pollution in Paris, which accelerated erosion of decorations and discoloured the stone. By the late 1980s, several gargoyles and turrets had also fallen or become too loose to safely remain in place.[57] A decade-long renovation programme began in 1991 and replaced much of the exterior, with care given to retain the authentic architectural elements of the cathedral, including rigorous inspection of new limestone blocks.[57][58] A discreet system of electrical wires, not visible from below, was also installed on the roof to deter pigeons.[59] The cathedral's pipe organ was upgraded with a computerized system to control the mechanical connections to the pipes.[60] The west face was cleaned and restored in time for millennium celebrations in December 1999.
The Requiem Mass of Cardinal Jean-Marie Lustiger, former archbishop of Paris and Jewish convert to Catholicism, was held in Notre-Dame on 10 August 2007.[62]
The set of four 19th-century bells at the top of the northern towers at Notre-Dame were melted down and recast into new bronze bells in 2013, to celebrate the building's 850th anniversary. They were designed to recreate the sound of the cathedral's original bells from the 17th century.[63][64] Despite the 1990s renovation, the cathedral had continued to show signs of deterioration that prompted the national government to propose a new renovation program in the late 2010s.[65][66] The entire renovation was estimated to cost €100 million, which the archbishop of Paris planned to raise through funds from the national government and private donations.[67] A €6 million renovation of the cathedral's flèche began in late 2018 and continued into the following year, requiring the temporary removal of copper statues on the roof and other decorative elements days before the April 2019 fire.[68][69]
Notre-Dame began a year-long celebration of the 850th anniversary of the laying of the first building block for the cathedral on 12 December 2012.[70] During that anniversary year, on 21 May 2013, Dominique Venner, a historian and white nationalist, placed a letter on the church altar and shot himself, dying instantly. Around 1,500 visitors were evacuated from the cathedral.[71]
French police arrested two people on 8 September 2016 after a car containing seven gasoline canisters was found near Notre-Dame.[72]
On 10 February 2017, French police arrested four persons in Montpellier already known by authorities to have ties to radical Islamist organizations on charges of plotting to travel to Paris and attack the cathedral.[73] Later that year, on 6 June, visitors were shut inside Notre-Dame cathedral in Paris after a man with a hammer attacked a police officer outside.
Paris is the capital and most populous city of France. With an official estimated population of 2,102,650 residents as of 1 January 2023[2] in an area of more than 105 km2 (41 sq mi) Paris is the fourth-most populated city in the European Union and the 30th most densely populated city in the world in 2022. Since the 17th century, Paris has been one of the world's major centres of finance, diplomacy, commerce, culture, fashion, and gastronomy. For its leading role in the arts and sciences, as well as its early and extensive system of street lighting, in the 19th century, it became known as the City of Light.
The City of Paris is the centre of the Île-de-France region, or Paris Region, with an official estimated population of 12,271,794 inhabitants on 1 January 2023, or about 19% of the population of France, The Paris Region had a GDP of €765 billion (US$1.064 trillion, PPP) in 2021, the highest in the European Union. According to the Economist Intelligence Unit Worldwide Cost of Living Survey, in 2022, Paris was the city with the ninth-highest cost of living in the world.
Paris is a major railway, highway, and air-transport hub served by two international airports: Charles de Gaulle Airport (the third-busiest airport in Europe) and Orly Airport. Opened in 1900, the city's subway system, the Paris Métro, serves 5.23 million passengers daily; it is the second-busiest metro system in Europe after the Moscow Metro. Gare du Nord is the 24th-busiest railway station in the world and the busiest outside Japan, with 262 million passengers in 2015. Paris has one of the most sustainable transportation systems and is one of the only two cities in the world that received the Sustainable Transport Award twice.
Paris is especially known for its museums and architectural landmarks: the Louvre received 8.9. million visitors in 2023, on track for keeping its position as the most-visited art museum in the world. The Musée d'Orsay, Musée Marmottan Monet and Musée de l'Orangerie are noted for their collections of French Impressionist art. The Pompidou Centre Musée National d'Art Moderne, Musée Rodin and Musée Picasso are noted for their collections of modern and contemporary art. The historical district along the Seine in the city centre has been classified as a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1991.
Paris hosts several United Nations organizations including UNESCO, and other international organizations such as the OECD, the OECD Development Centre, the International Bureau of Weights and Measures, the International Energy Agency, the International Federation for Human Rights, along with European bodies such as the European Space Agency, the European Banking Authority and the European Securities and Markets Authority. The football club Paris Saint-Germain and the rugby union club Stade Français are based in Paris. The 80,000-seat Stade de France, built for the 1998 FIFA World Cup, is located just north of Paris in the neighbouring commune of Saint-Denis. Paris hosts the annual French Open Grand Slam tennis tournament on the red clay of Roland Garros. The city hosted the Olympic Games in 1900 and 1924, and will host the 2024 Summer Olympics. The 1938 and 1998 FIFA World Cups, the 2019 FIFA Women's World Cup, the 2007 Rugby World Cup, as well as the 1960, 1984 and 2016 UEFA European Championships were also held in the city. Every July, the Tour de France bicycle race finishes on the Avenue des Champs-Élysées in Paris.
The Parisii, a sub-tribe of the Celtic Senones, inhabited the Paris area from around the middle of the 3rd century BC. One of the area's major north–south trade routes crossed the Seine on the île de la Cité, which gradually became an important trading centre. The Parisii traded with many river towns (some as far away as the Iberian Peninsula) and minted their own coins.
The Romans conquered the Paris Basin in 52 BC and began their settlement on Paris's Left Bank. The Roman town was originally called Lutetia (more fully, Lutetia Parisiorum, "Lutetia of the Parisii", modern French Lutèce). It became a prosperous city with a forum, baths, temples, theatres, and an amphitheatre.
By the end of the Western Roman Empire, the town was known as Parisius, a Latin name that would later become Paris in French. Christianity was introduced in the middle of the 3rd century AD by Saint Denis, the first Bishop of Paris: according to legend, when he refused to renounce his faith before the Roman occupiers, he was beheaded on the hill which became known as Mons Martyrum (Latin "Hill of Martyrs"), later "Montmartre", from where he walked headless to the north of the city; the place where he fell and was buried became an important religious shrine, the Basilica of Saint-Denis, and many French kings are buried there.
Clovis the Frank, the first king of the Merovingian dynasty, made the city his capital from 508. As the Frankish domination of Gaul began, there was a gradual immigration by the Franks to Paris and the Parisian Francien dialects were born. Fortification of the Île de la Cité failed to avert sacking by Vikings in 845, but Paris's strategic importance—with its bridges preventing ships from passing—was established by successful defence in the Siege of Paris (885–886), for which the then Count of Paris (comte de Paris), Odo of France, was elected king of West Francia. From the Capetian dynasty that began with the 987 election of Hugh Capet, Count of Paris and Duke of the Franks (duc des Francs), as king of a unified West Francia, Paris gradually became the largest and most prosperous city in France.
By the end of the 12th century, Paris had become the political, economic, religious, and cultural capital of France.[36] The Palais de la Cité, the royal residence, was located at the western end of the Île de la Cité. In 1163, during the reign of Louis VII, Maurice de Sully, bishop of Paris, undertook the construction of the Notre Dame Cathedral at its eastern extremity.
After the marshland between the river Seine and its slower 'dead arm' to its north was filled in from around the 10th century, Paris's cultural centre began to move to the Right Bank. In 1137, a new city marketplace (today's Les Halles) replaced the two smaller ones on the Île de la Cité and Place de Grève (Place de l'Hôtel de Ville). The latter location housed the headquarters of Paris's river trade corporation, an organisation that later became, unofficially (although formally in later years), Paris's first municipal government.
In the late 12th century, Philip Augustus extended the Louvre fortress to defend the city against river invasions from the west, gave the city its first walls between 1190 and 1215, rebuilt its bridges to either side of its central island, and paved its main thoroughfares. In 1190, he transformed Paris's former cathedral school into a student-teacher corporation that would become the University of Paris and would draw students from all of Europe.
With 200,000 inhabitants in 1328, Paris, then already the capital of France, was the most populous city of Europe. By comparison, London in 1300 had 80,000 inhabitants. By the early fourteenth century, so much filth had collected inside urban Europe that French and Italian cities were naming streets after human waste. In medieval Paris, several street names were inspired by merde, the French word for "shit".
During the Hundred Years' War, Paris was occupied by England-friendly Burgundian forces from 1418, before being occupied outright by the English when Henry V of England entered the French capital in 1420; in spite of a 1429 effort by Joan of Arc to liberate the city, it would remain under English occupation until 1436.
In the late 16th-century French Wars of Religion, Paris was a stronghold of the Catholic League, the organisers of 24 August 1572 St. Bartholomew's Day massacre in which thousands of French Protestants were killed. The conflicts ended when pretender to the throne Henry IV, after converting to Catholicism to gain entry to the capital, entered the city in 1594 to claim the crown of France. This king made several improvements to the capital during his reign: he completed the construction of Paris's first uncovered, sidewalk-lined bridge, the Pont Neuf, built a Louvre extension connecting it to the Tuileries Palace, and created the first Paris residential square, the Place Royale, now Place des Vosges. In spite of Henry IV's efforts to improve city circulation, the narrowness of Paris's streets was a contributing factor in his assassination near Les Halles marketplace in 1610.
During the 17th century, Cardinal Richelieu, chief minister of Louis XIII, was determined to make Paris the most beautiful city in Europe. He built five new bridges, a new chapel for the College of Sorbonne, and a palace for himself, the Palais-Cardinal. After Richelieu's death in 1642, it was renamed the Palais-Royal.
Due to the Parisian uprisings during the Fronde civil war, Louis XIV moved his court to a new palace, Versailles, in 1682. Although no longer the capital of France, arts and sciences in the city flourished with the Comédie-Française, the Academy of Painting, and the French Academy of Sciences. To demonstrate that the city was safe from attack, the king had the city walls demolished and replaced with tree-lined boulevards that would become the Grands Boulevards. Other marks of his reign were the Collège des Quatre-Nations, the Place Vendôme, the Place des Victoires, and Les Invalides.
18th and 19th centuries
Empire, and Haussmann's renovation of Paris
Paris grew in population from about 400,000 in 1640, to 650,000 in 1780. A new boulevard named the Champs-Élysées extended the city west to Étoile, while the working-class neighbourhood of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine on the eastern side of the city grew increasingly crowded with poor migrant workers from other regions of France.
Paris was the centre of an explosion of philosophic and scientific activity, known as the Age of Enlightenment. Diderot and d'Alembert published their Encyclopédie in 1751, and the Montgolfier Brothers launched the first manned flight in a hot air balloon on 21 November 1783. Paris was the financial capital of continental Europe, and the primary European centre of book publishing, fashion and the manufacture of fine furniture and luxury goods.
In the summer of 1789, Paris became the centre stage of the French Revolution. On 14 July, a mob seized the arsenal at the Invalides, acquiring thousands of guns, and stormed the Bastille, which was a principal symbol of royal authority. The first independent Paris Commune, or city council, met in the Hôtel de Ville and elected a Mayor, the astronomer Jean Sylvain Bailly, on 15 July.
Louis XVI and the royal family were brought to Paris and incarcerated in the Tuileries Palace. In 1793, as the revolution turned increasingly radical, the king, queen and mayor were beheaded by guillotine in the Reign of Terror, along with more than 16,000 others throughout France. The property of the aristocracy and the church was nationalised, and the city's churches were closed, sold or demolished. A succession of revolutionary factions ruled Paris until 9 November 1799 (coup d'état du 18 brumaire), when Napoleon Bonaparte seized power as First Consul.
The population of Paris had dropped by 100,000 during the Revolution, but after 1799 it surged with 160,000 new residents, reaching 660,000 by 1815. Napoleon replaced the elected government of Paris with a prefect that reported directly to him. He began erecting monuments to military glory, including the Arc de Triomphe, and improved the neglected infrastructure of the city with new fountains, the Canal de l'Ourcq, Père Lachaise Cemetery and the city's first metal bridge, the Pont des Arts.
The Eiffel Tower, under construction in November 1888, startled Parisians—and the world—with its modernity.
During the Restoration, the bridges and squares of Paris were returned to their pre-Revolution names; the July Revolution in 1830 (commemorated by the July Column on the Place de la Bastille) brought to power a constitutional monarch, Louis Philippe I. The first railway line to Paris opened in 1837, beginning a new period of massive migration from the provinces to the city. In 1848, Louis-Philippe was overthrown by a popular uprising in the streets of Paris. His successor, Napoleon III, alongside the newly appointed prefect of the Seine, Georges-Eugène Haussmann, launched a huge public works project to build wide new boulevards, a new opera house, a central market, new aqueducts, sewers and parks, including the Bois de Boulogne and Bois de Vincennes. In 1860, Napoleon III annexed the surrounding towns and created eight new arrondissements, expanding Paris to its current limits.
During the Franco-Prussian War (1870–1871), Paris was besieged by the Prussian Army. Following several months of blockade, hunger, and then bombardment by the Prussians, the city was forced to surrender on 28 January 1871. After seizing power in Paris on 28 March, a revolutionary government known as the Paris Commune held power for two months, before being harshly suppressed by the French army during the "Bloody Week" at the end of May 1871.
In the late 19th century, Paris hosted two major international expositions: the 1889 Universal Exposition, which featured the new Eiffel Tower, was held to mark the centennial of the French Revolution; and the 1900 Universal Exposition gave Paris the Pont Alexandre III, the Grand Palais, the Petit Palais and the first Paris Métro line. Paris became the laboratory of Naturalism (Émile Zola) and Symbolism (Charles Baudelaire and Paul Verlaine), and of Impressionism in art (Courbet, Manet, Monet, Renoir).
20th and 21st centuries
World War, Paris between the Wars (1919–1939), Paris in World War II, and History of Paris (1946–2000)
By 1901, the population of Paris had grown to about 2,715,000. At the beginning of the century, artists from around the world including Pablo Picasso, Modigliani, and Henri Matisse made Paris their home. It was the birthplace of Fauvism, Cubism and abstract art, and authors such as Marcel Proust were exploring new approaches to literature.
During the First World War, Paris sometimes found itself on the front line; 600 to 1,000 Paris taxis played a small but highly important symbolic role in transporting 6,000 soldiers to the front line at the First Battle of the Marne. The city was also bombed by Zeppelins and shelled by German long-range guns. In the years after the war, known as Les Années Folles, Paris continued to be a mecca for writers, musicians and artists from around the world, including Ernest Hemingway, Igor Stravinsky, James Joyce, Josephine Baker, Eva Kotchever, Henry Miller, Anaïs Nin, Sidney Bechet and Salvador Dalí.
In the years after the peace conference, the city was also home to growing numbers of students and activists from French colonies and other Asian and African countries, who later became leaders of their countries, such as Ho Chi Minh, Zhou Enlai and Léopold Sédar Senghor.
General Charles de Gaulle on the Champs-Élysées celebrating the liberation of Paris, 26 August 1944
On 14 June 1940, the German army marched into Paris, which had been declared an "open city". On 16–17 July 1942, following German orders, the French police and gendarmes arrested 12,884 Jews, including 4,115 children, and confined them during five days at the Vel d'Hiv (Vélodrome d'Hiver), from which they were transported by train to the extermination camp at Auschwitz. None of the children came back. On 25 August 1944, the city was liberated by the French 2nd Armoured Division and the 4th Infantry Division of the United States Army. General Charles de Gaulle led a huge and emotional crowd down the Champs Élysées towards Notre Dame de Paris, and made a rousing speech from the Hôtel de Ville.
In the 1950s and the 1960s, Paris became one front of the Algerian War for independence; in August 1961, the pro-independence FLN targeted and killed 11 Paris policemen, leading to the imposition of a curfew on Muslims of Algeria (who, at that time, were French citizens). On 17 October 1961, an unauthorised but peaceful protest demonstration of Algerians against the curfew led to violent confrontations between the police and demonstrators, in which at least 40 people were killed. The anti-independence Organisation armée secrète (OAS) carried out a series of bombings in Paris throughout 1961 and 1962.
In May 1968, protesting students occupied the Sorbonne and put up barricades in the Latin Quarter. Thousands of Parisian blue-collar workers joined the students, and the movement grew into a two-week general strike. Supporters of the government won the June elections by a large majority. The May 1968 events in France resulted in the break-up of the University of Paris into 13 independent campuses. In 1975, the National Assembly changed the status of Paris to that of other French cities and, on 25 March 1977, Jacques Chirac became the first elected mayor of Paris since 1793. The Tour Maine-Montparnasse, the tallest building in the city at 57 storeys and 210 m (689 ft) high, was built between 1969 and 1973. It was highly controversial, and it remains the only building in the centre of the city over 32 storeys high. The population of Paris dropped from 2,850,000 in 1954 to 2,152,000 in 1990, as middle-class families moved to the suburbs. A suburban railway network, the RER (Réseau Express Régional), was built to complement the Métro; the Périphérique expressway encircling the city, was completed in 1973.
Most of the postwar presidents of the Fifth Republic wanted to leave their own monuments in Paris; President Georges Pompidou started the Centre Georges Pompidou (1977), Valéry Giscard d'Estaing began the Musée d'Orsay (1986); President François Mitterrand had the Opéra Bastille built (1985–1989), the new site of the Bibliothèque nationale de France (1996), the Arche de la Défense (1985–1989) in La Défense, as well as the Louvre Pyramid with its underground courtyard (1983–1989); Jacques Chirac (2006), the Musée du quai Branly.
In the early 21st century, the population of Paris began to increase slowly again, as more young people moved into the city. It reached 2.25 million in 2011. In March 2001, Bertrand Delanoë became the first socialist mayor. He was re-elected in March 2008. In 2007, in an effort to reduce car traffic, he introduced the Vélib', a system which rents bicycles. Bertrand Delanoë also transformed a section of the highway along the Left Bank of the Seine into an urban promenade and park, the Promenade des Berges de la Seine, which he inaugurated in June 2013.
In 2007, President Nicolas Sarkozy launched the Grand Paris project, to integrate Paris more closely with the towns in the region around it. After many modifications, the new area, named the Metropolis of Grand Paris, with a population of 6.7 million, was created on 1 January 2016. In 2011, the City of Paris and the national government approved the plans for the Grand Paris Express, totalling 205 km (127 mi) of automated metro lines to connect Paris, the innermost three departments around Paris, airports and high-speed rail (TGV) stations, at an estimated cost of €35 billion.The system is scheduled to be completed by 2030.
In January 2015, Al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula claimed attacks across the Paris region. 1.5 million people marched in Paris in a show of solidarity against terrorism and in support of freedom of speech. In November of the same year, terrorist attacks, claimed by ISIL, killed 130 people and injured more than 350.
On 22 April 2016, the Paris Agreement was signed by 196 nations of the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change in an aim to limit the effects of climate change below 2 °C.
Reading, Pennsylvania Motorcycle Club. Prayers are given for the safety of the riders at this event. The rider on the right shares prayers for their mutual safety.
Given that this was my last few months in the DC area, I had to go out to Shenandoah for the foliage one last time. I think we hit it better this year than we did last. We spent one night (last year we camped, and it was cold!) this year, and I only brought my serious hiking boots and flip-flops (my year-round, go anywhere footwear). My boots were drenched from the night before, so all I had were my flip flops. Standing out on this rock face for 45 minutes waiting for the sunrise with temperatures near 30º and a tremendous wind gust (must've been close to 50 mph -- note the movement in the foreground most tree) gave my feet a really hard time. Painful. Single RAW exposure. Stacked 2 and 3 soft stop Singh-Ray GNDs. Slight level adjustments in CS4.
[ Most Interesting | Set: Shenandoah National Park | View On Black ]
I was given an assignment by modeling agency in San Francisco to do a test with one of their veteran model for a fashion driven shoot. The scouting of the location was a little bit stressing for the reason that I want the location to mesh with the designer's dress that was provided to the model during the takes. The location is pretty remote--though workable spot to shoot. So here is one of the frames from that October gig.
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Photographer: Ditus Alviar
Model: Jazzy Goh (City Modeling Agency SF)
Hair/MUA: Erica Tweeden
Wardrobe Designer: Tina Pinnaza Styling
Assistants: Wesley Mai
Organizer: Cassey Escobar
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Title: Menu from Dinner Given During President Nixon's Visit to Peking, China, 02/25/1972
Production Date: February 25, 1972
Menu from Dinner Given During President Nixon's Visit to Peking, China, 02/25/1972 (ARC ID 595300); Collection RN-SMOF: White House Staff Member and Office Files (Nixon Administration), 01/20/1969 - 08/09/1974; Nixon Presidential Materials Staff (NLNS), National Archives and Records Administration.
Persistent URL: arcweb.archives.gov/arc/action/ExternalIdSearch?id=595300
Access Restrictions: Unrestricted
Use Restrictions: Unrestricted
Have given the X100s a good run on landscapes and quite a bit of street photography, these are some other experiments.
Given that Taylor Wimpey have decided to build all over my go-to field just outside Morpeth, I've been on the scout for a replacement. I'd spotted this cracking field of barley near airport a few days ago and it ticked all the right boxes - nice and quick to get to from my house, interesting background and close to a parking spot.
When I saw Sunday's storm developing on the weather radar, it was too good an opportunity to miss. Unfortunately I misjudged the speed a bit which meant we got there just as the storm was about to break, leaving me with little time to get any shots before the rain hit.
In the end, I did everything hand-held with the a6000 and Samyang 14mm f2, then hopped back in the car before the rain hit!
Sony A6000 / Samyang 14mm
Slightly confusingly, given that the sphinx is associated with Egypt, this is a memorial to those of the 80th Staffordshire Regiment of Foot who lost their lives in the Indian campaign of 1845. It was made by Peter Hollins.
Luke 12:48
But he who did not know, yet committed things deserving of stripes, shall be beaten with few. For everyone to whom much is given, from him much will be required; and to whom much has been committed, of him they will ask the more.
St Andrew, Honingham, Norfolk
I had almost given up hope of seeing inside Honingham church, until my friend John told me he'd arranged for it to be open, and would I like to come along? In truth, I was wary about meeting a character I had encountered at the church some ten years previously; not so much for what had happened, but that I had written about it in some detail afterwards. I was a little apprehensive, therefore, to turn up and discover that the man opening the church was the same one I had met all those years before. But it didn't matter, because he didn't remember me, and probably had never read what I had written.
And I found I liked Honingham church rather more than I had expected to. There is a rich atmosphere of the last decade of the 19th Century and the first decade of the 20th, and the Victorian glass is really very good. It can't have much of a congregation, and I decided that it was essentially a churchwarden's hobby church, a fiefdom. He obviously did everything here, kept in in good order looking spick and span and shipshape, and locked it determinedly against anyone who wanted to see inside without attending a service. I imagined that even God would have to wipe his feet and mumble apologetically if he wanted to get inside. All well and good for now, but once the churchwarden has gone it will soon be lost to us.
In 2006, I wrote: This big, locked, Perpendicular building, the nave and chancel rebuilt by the Victorians, is surrounded by a wide graveyard. On the north side there are sparsely scattered headstones, but to the south the church is set within a wide murderous curve of the A47. To describe this church as a landmark on the road is to assume that it would be safe to look up from the wheel to spot it; the stretch of the road between here and Hockering has claimed more deaths than any other since the A47 was taken outside the villages. I'm not suggesting that the church is responsible for this, of course, just that spotting it shouldn't be one of your priorities.
If a Martian came down and landed in the graveyard of St Andrew, Honingham, what on earth he would make of it? Would he think it was an art object? A barn, or storage facility? Or would he search for an industrial purpose? Perhaps the tall pinnacles on the tower might suggest to him that he was at the site of a scientific experiment. If the Martian had any brains, and I assume that he would have if he'd made it this far, he might perceive that the road is a lot newer than the church, and perhaps he would decide that the church was a relic of the past, its function now sidelined, perhaps forgotten altogether. Indeed, he might wonder if the road had been built deliberately to speed humans past this building and the tall stones set around it.
Perhaps this was a dangerous place. Or, maybe, it was simply an embarrassing reminder of past superstitions, a haunted site. An unlucky place, perhaps. The Martian might watch the traffic hurtling past, the drivers deliberately not looking, and think yes, that must be right. Whatever he decided, it would have to be based on a survey of the exterior, because St Andrew is always locked, unless the Sunday club is in session. He wouldn't even be able to look through the windows, because they are filled with frosted quarries.
Eventually, he might find the porch, and think it is some sort of antechamber (not an entrance, of course, for the doors beyond are locked) and for a moment ponder the holy water stoup, now filled with an old birds nest. What on earth would he make, I wonder, of the signboard on the wall that reads in part:
Friend, you have come to this church. Leave it not without a prayer.
No one entering a house ignores him who dwells in it.
This is the house of God, and He is here.
Pray, then, to him who loves you, and bids you welcome, and awaits your greeting.
A lovely sentiment, no doubt; but the Martian would still be left locked out of the house of God - if it is the house of God, of course, for if the locks and chains keep out the stranger and the pilgrim, how on earth can it be that God is in there to bid us welcome?
My friend Peter had been trying to see inside this church for years. We came this way most recently in early March, 2006. The day had started in bright sun, but as we headed here from Marlingford the east wind blew sheets of glacial cloud above us, which turned grey and, as we parked the car, turned to snow. Parking is difficult; there is a layby, but you need to approach from the west to park here. Otherwise, there is a drive which goes up to the east end of thechurch, but this was already occupied by a large BMW estate. We parked in the layby, and sat in the car for a moment, watching the fat flakes thicken.
What to do? We decided that we might just as well get out and go and take a look. Either, by some miracle, the church would be open and offer us shelter, or we could confirm our prejudices about the perpetual locking of St Andrew and be on our way.
The south side of the church has been cleared of headstones, and they have been placed in two perfectly straight lines, about 15 m apart. What would the Martian make of this? Some sort of sports arena, perhaps? Or a place to worship the sun at the solstice?
Our Martian couldn't possibly be expected to know about the great lawnmower enthusiasm of the 1960s and 1970s, when so many graveyards were cleared like this one. But the dead have their revenge, and this wide open space is now scattered with an acne of molehills.
We got into the porch and tried the inner door, which was locked of course; although it did feel as though one great shove with a shoulder would probably open it. And that was when the heavens opened. The snow was so thick in the air we could only just make out the suicidal cars thrashing up the main road to and from the Midlands. Peter is a careful driver, and he didn't much fancy heading on in a blizzard, and there didn't seem much point getting caked in snow just to go back and sit in the car, so we sheltered from the weather in the porch, and read the notices miserably.
I noticed that the presentation to the living had been suspended, which sounds drastic but simply means that the parish can't afford a Rector. The annual accounts were posted, and I noticed that the total income for the year was roughly the same as the weekly income of the church I attend in the middle of Ipswich, so this is a small parish. Eventually, I exhausted the possibilities of the noticeboard, and, feeling that I had probably squeezed the last ounce of pleasure out of the porch, I gazed out at the graveyard. This was when I noticed something rather curious. The back of the BMW estate was open, and beyond the second line of gravestones a smartly dressed man was standing in the snow bashing molehills with a spade.
At first I thought this must be an act of devotion on the part of a parishioner, or simply a Saturday morning habit. And then I wondered if it might be some kind of East Anglian country lore: if in the snow you clear his stack, mister mole will not be back. Perhaps this man had been waiting for it to snow for months.
We watched him for a while, the snow blanketing the sound of his spade into silence, rendering it surreal. But the wind was vicious, and so we stepped back into the porch, and worked out where we wanted to go next. It was while we were pondering over the map that we heard footsteps, and looking up saw that the smartly dressed man had approached us. He looked at us quizzically.
"Just here out of interest?" he asked.
"Well, we'd like to be", I replied, indicating the door. "But the church is locked."
This was such a heavy hint that, once dropped, it hit the floor with a loud clang. Surely, if this man had a key, he'd give it to us, or let us in. But he just smiled sadly and nodded in agreement, as if to say yes, the church was locked, and there was nothing he could do about it. Perhaps he'd been trying to see inside for years as well. Instead, the three of us exchanged a few polite comments about the weather, and he wandered off back to the moles.
The snow gradually thinned, and at last it stopped. We stepped out, examining the sky for signs. An uneasy truce had set in. Just a thin dusting remained on the grass to show that it had ever snowed; the sun was edging to come out, the white rime on the green fading, but there were more sheets of greying clouds huddled off in the distance. It was time to go. We wanted to make a statement of some kind, and so we left the porch gates open, as if to suggest that the the doors were not barred, and that God was in His dwelling house waiting to bid a welcome.
But by the time we got back to the car and headed eastwards past the church, someone had already closed them.
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Photograph taken at an altitude of Two hundred and thirty five metres, at 13:50pm on Saturday 18th September 2019 off Ainslie Point Road and Canal Road at the summit of Mount Norman on South Pender Island in British Columbia, Canada.
The summit is nestled within the forest within the Gulf Islands National Park Reserve, and here we have a view out across to North Pender Island, and the Southern Gulf Islands of British Columbia.
Designated as the fortieth national park in 2003 and covering 36 square kilometres (14 sq mi) of area with 16 islands and more than 30 islets, reefs and surrounding waters, it also contains Douglas-fir trees as well as Pacific dogwood, bigleaf maple, red alder and Western red cedar.
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Nikon D850. Focal length 120mm Shutter speed 1/125s Aperture f/16.0 iso200 RAW (14 bit uncompressed) Image size L (8256 x 5504 FX). Focus mode AF-C focus 51 point with 3D- tracking. AF-Area mode single point & 73 point switchable. Exposure mode - Aperture priority exposure. Nikon Back button focusing enabled. Matrix metering. ISO Sensitivity: Auto. White balance: Natural light auto. Colour space Adobe RGB. Nikon Distortion control on. Picture control: Auto. High ISO NR on. Vignette control: normal. Active D-lighting Auto.
Nikkor AF-S 24-120mm f/4G ED VR. Lee SW150 MKII filter holder. Lee SW150 77mm screw in adapter ring. Lee SW150 0.9 (3 stops) Neutral density graduated soft resin filter. Lee SW150 Filters field pouch. Nikon EN-EL15a battery.Mcoplus professional MB-D850 multi function battery grip 6960. Matin quick release neckstrap. My Memory 128GB Class 10 SDXC 80MB/s card. Lowepro Flipside 400 AW camera bag. Nikon GP-1 GPS module. Hoodman HEYENRG round eyepiece oversized eyecup.
LATITUDE: N 48d 45m 30.86s
LONGITUDE: W 123d 14m 28.20s
ALTITUDE: 237.0m
RAW (TIFF) FILE: 130.00MB NEF: 90.5MB
PROCESSED (JPeg) FILE: 40.90MB
PROCESSING POWER:
Nikon D850 Firmware versions C 1.10 (9/05/2019) LD Distortion Data 2.017 (20/3/18) LF 1.00
HP 110-352na Desktop PC with AMD Quad-Core A6-5200 APU 64Bit processor. Radeon HD8400 graphics. 8 GB DDR3 Memory with 1TB Data storage. 64-bit Windows 10. Verbatim USB 2.0 1TB desktop hard drive. WD My Passport Ultra 1tb USB3 Portable hard drive. Nikon ViewNX-1 64bit (Version 1.3.1 11/07/2019). Nikon Capture NX-D 64bit (Version 1.4.7 15/03/2018). Nikon Picture Control Utility 2 (Version 1.3.2 15/03/2018). Adobe photoshop Elements 8 Version 8.0 64bit.