*

still from family home movie, ca 1945

*

  

"Many years had elapsed during which nothing of Combray, save what was comprised in the theatre and the drama of my going to bed there, had any existence for me, when one day in winter, as I came home, my mother, seeing that I was cold, offered me some tea, a thing I did not ordinarily take. I declined at first, and then, for no particular reason, changed my mind. She sent out for one of those short, plump little cakes called ‘petites madeleines,’ which look as though they had been moulded in the fluted scallop of a pilgrim’s shell. And soon, mechanically, weary after a dull day with the prospect of a depressing morrow, I raised to my lips a spoonful of the tea in which I had soaked a morsel of the cake. No sooner had the warm liquid, and the crumbs with it, touched my palate than a shudder ran through my whole body, and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary changes that were taking place. An exquisite pleasure had invaded my senses, but individual, detached, with no suggestion of its origin. And at once the vicissitudes of life had become indifferent to me, its disasters innocuous, its brevity illusory — this new sensation having had on me the effect which love has of filling me with a precious essence; or rather this essence was not in me, it was myself. I had ceased now to feel mediocre, accidental, mortal. Whence could it have come to me, this all-powerful joy? I was conscious that it was connected with the taste of tea and cake, but that it infinitely transcended those savours, could not, indeed, be of the same nature as theirs. Whence did it come? What did it signify? How could I seize upon and define it?

 

I drink a second mouthful, in which I find nothing more than in the first, a third, which gives me rather less than the second. It is time to stop; the potion is losing its magic. It is plain that the object of my quest, the truth, lies not in the cup but in myself. The tea has called up in me, but does not itself understand, and can only repeat indefinitely with a gradual loss of strength, the same testimony; which I, too, cannot interpret, though I hope at least to be able to call upon the tea for it again and to find it there presently, intact and at my disposal, for my final enlightenment. I put down my cup and examine my own mind. It is for it to discover the truth. But how? What an abyss of uncertainty whenever the mind feels that some part of it has strayed beyond its own borders; when it, the seeker, is at once the dark region through which it must go seeking, where all its equipment will avail it nothing. Seek? More than that: create. It is face to face with something which does not so far exist, to which it alone can give reality and substance, which it alone can bring into the light of day.

 

And I begin again to ask myself what it could have been, this unremembered state which brought with it no logical proof of its existence, but only the sense that it was a happy, that it was a real state in whose presence other states of consciousness melted and vanished. I decide to attempt to make it reappear. I retrace my thoughts to the moment at which I drank the first spoonful of tea. I find again the same state, illumined by no fresh light. I compel my mind to make one further effort, to follow and recapture once again the fleeting sensation. And that nothing may interrupt it in its course I shut out every obstacle, every extraneous idea, I stop my ears and inhibit all attention to the sounds which come from the next room. And then, feeling that my mind is growing fatigued without having any success to report, I compel it for a change to enjoy that distraction which I have just denied it, to think of other things, to rest and refresh itself before the supreme attempt. And then for the second time I clear an empty space in front of it. I place in position before my mind’s eye the still recent taste of that first mouthful, and I feel something start within me, something that leaves its resting-place and attempts to rise, something that has been embedded like an anchor at a great depth; I do not know yet what it is, but I can feel it mounting slowly; I can measure the resistance, I can hear the echo of great spaces traversed.

 

Undoubtedly what is thus palpitating in the depths of my being must be the image, the visual memory which, being linked to that taste, has tried to follow it into my conscious mind. But its struggles are too far off, too much confused; scarcely can I perceive the colourless reflection in which are blended the uncapturable whirling medley of radiant hues, and I cannot distinguish its form, cannot invite it, as the one possible interpreter, to translate to me the evidence of its contemporary, its inseparable paramour, the taste of cake soaked in tea; cannot ask it to inform me what special circumstance is in question, of what period in my past life.

 

Will it ultimately reach the clear surface of my consciousness, this memory, this old, dead moment which the magnetism of an identical moment has travelled so far to importune, to disturb, to raise up out of the very depths of my being? I cannot tell. Now that I feel nothing, it has stopped, has perhaps gone down again into its darkness, from which who can say whether it will ever rise? Ten times over I must essay the task, must lean down over the abyss. And each time the natural laziness which deters us from every difficult enterprise, every work of importance, has urged me to leave the thing alone, to drink my tea and to think merely of the worries of to-day and of my hopes for to-morrow, which let themselves be pondered over without effort or distress of mind.

 

And suddenly the memory returns. The taste was that of the little crumb of madeleine which on Sunday mornings at Combray (because on those mornings I did not go out before church-time), when I went to say good day to her in her bedroom, my aunt Léonie used to give me, dipping it first in her own cup of real or of lime-flower tea. The sight of the little madeleine had recalled nothing to my mind before I tasted it; perhaps because I had so often seen such things in the interval, without tasting them, on the trays in pastry-cooks’ windows, that their image had dissociated itself from those Combray days to take its place among others more recent; perhaps because of those memories, so long abandoned and put out of mind, nothing now survived, everything was scattered; the forms of things, including that of the little scallop-shell of pastry, so richly sensual under its severe, religious folds, were either obliterated or had been so long dormant as to have lost the power of expansion which would have allowed them to resume their place in my consciousness. But when from a long-distant past nothing subsists, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered, still, alone, more fragile, but with more vitality, more unsubstantial, more persistent, more faithful, the smell and taste of things remain poised a long time, like souls, ready to remind us, waiting and hoping for their moment, amid the ruins of all the rest; and bear unfaltering, in the tiny and almost impalpable drop of their essence, the vast structure of recollection.

 

And once I had recognized the taste of the crumb of madeleine soaked in her decoction of lime-flowers which my aunt used to give me (although I did not yet know and must long postpone the discovery of why this memory made me so happy) immediately the old grey house upon the street, where her room was, rose up like the scenery of a theatre to attach itself to the little pavilion, opening on to the garden, which had been built out behind it for my parents (the isolated panel which until that moment had been all that I could see); and with the house the town, from morning to night and in all weathers, the Square where I was sent before luncheon, the streets along which I used to run errands, the country roads we took when it was fine. And just as the Japanese amuse themselves by filling a porcelain bowl with water and steeping in it little crumbs of paper which until then are without character or form, but, the moment they become wet, stretch themselves and bend, take on colour and distinctive shape, become flowers or houses or people, permanent and recognisable, so in that moment all the flowers in our garden and in M. Swann’s park, and the water-lilies on the Vivonne and the good folk of the village and their little dwellings and the parish church and the whole of Combray and of its surroundings, taking their proper shapes and growing solid, sprang into being, town and gardens alike, from my cup of tea."

 

From "Du côté de chez Swann" by Valentin Louis Georges Eugène Marcel Proust

 

(muito obrigado como sempre)

  

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Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.

 

Today however we are at Rippon Court, the ancient sprawling Baronial style* house and family seat of Sir John Nettleword Hughes, buried deep within his vast estate of Rippon in Bedforshire. Old enough to be Lettice’s father, wealthy Sir John was until recently still a bachelor, and according to London society gossip intended to remain so, so that he might continue to enjoy his dalliances with a string of pretty chorus girls of Lettice’s age and younger. After an abrupt ending to her understanding with Selwyn Spencely, son and heir to the title Duke of Walmsford, Lettice in a moment of both weakness and resolve, agreed to the proposal of marriage proffered to her by Sir John. More like a business arrangement than a marriage proposal, Sir John offered Lettice the opportunity to enjoy the benefits of his large fortune, be chatelain of all his estates and continue to have her interior design business, under the conditions that she agree to provide him with an heir, and that he be allowed to discreetly carry on his affairs in spite of their marriage vows. He even suggested that Lettice might be afforded the opportunity to have her own extra marital liaisons if she were discreet about them.

 

Lettice, her fiancée, Sir John, and his sister Clemance have motored over from Lettice’s family home of Glynes in Wiltshire, cutting their Christmas holiday with Lettice’s family short, to host the Rippon Hunt. Being a keen hunter, His Royal Highness, Prince Edward, the Prince of Wales has sent word to Sir John that he and a party of his equally enthusiastic foxhunting friends wish to participate in the Rippon Hunt, so Sir John has cut short his sojourn to Fontengil Park in Wiltshire, near to his fiancée’s family seat and has reluctantly returned to his sprawling, draughty and slightly tumbledown, dreaded childhood home to host the Prince. The Prince has also expressed his particular wish to reacquaint himself with Lettice, now that she is Sir John’s fiancée, so she is playing hostess to His Royal Highness, and as the future Lady Nettleford Hughes, has been bestowed the honour of handing out trophies to the winners. Clemance is attending as chaperone.

 

Today is the day of the Rippon Hunt, and all the participants, including the Prince of Wales and his current paramour, married socialite Freda Dudley-Ward**, have set out after Sir John and Lettice came out onto Rippon Court’s grassy forecourt and socialised with the mounted hunters. With the hunting party already mounted as they waited to set off on the hunt, Sir John and Lettice shared port and sherry with them, served by Rippon Court’s butler, Huntley, and several of the estate’s housemaids in Sir John’s father’s sterling silver stirrup cups*** so that they did not have to dismount. Lettice and Sir John shared pleasantries and titbits of county gossip with their guests, Sir John accepting congratulations and Lettice happiness**** at their impending nuptials*****. Lettice and Sir John wished them luck, even though neither enjoy the bloodsport****** of foxhunting, and Sir John gladly relinquished his hereditary right to be Master of the Hunt******* as owner of Rippon Court and the land on which the Rippon Hunt was conducted, to the current owner of nearby Wrest Park********, Mr. J.G. Murray*********.

 

We find ourselves on the front lawns of Rippon Court as heavy ancient oak front doors are opened by Huntley, their hinges creaking loudly in protestation as they are swung wide.

 

“Well, it looks like it has been nice weather for His Royal Highness at least,” Sir John says stepping out into the bright early afternoon sunshine with Lettice on his arm.

 

As she decreed at dinner on their first evening at Rippon Court, Lettice is arrayed in her uniform country tweeds**********, yet she had added her own distinctive style and elegance to the outfit by wearing a brightly hand painted Florentine silk scarf around her throat, a diamond spray belonging to Sir Johns grandmother on her lapel, and a neat hat atop her glossy honey blonde Marcelled waves***********. Her snakeskin handbag swings on its gold chain as it hangs at the crook of her arm.

 

“Indeed yes.” Lettice agrees. What a pity!”

 

“A pity?” Sir John queries.

 

“Yes,” Lettice answers. “Today would have been perfect for a steeplechase************, rather than a ghastly foxhunt.”

 

Sir John chuckles as they walk forwards on the gravel path before them. “You might have enjoyed a steeplechase, but His Royal Highness obviously prefers a hunt today.” He pauses. “And we all know that whatever His Royal Highness wants, his Royal Highness gets.” He looks knowingly down at Lettice with a wicked glint in his bright blue eyes. “Like Freda Dudley-Ward************* for example.”

 

Ignoring her fiancée’s alluding to the womanizing similarities that he shares with the Prince of Wales, Lettice replies, “His Royal Highness enjoys steeplechasing as well**************, you know, dear John, and as an excellent rider, I would have given him a challenge, and probably beaten him.”

 

“Such brave words, Lettice my dear.” Sir John says patting Lettice’s hand consolingly as they walk towards a green baize covered table on the lawns where several of Rippon Court’s maids are currently clustered.

 

“I’m an excellent rider, John, even if you aren’t.” Lettice insists.

 

“I don’t doubt it my dear, but for that very reason, I’m glad that the Prince wanted to go on a foxhunt today, even if I don’t care for it myself. The last thing I need is for my fiancée to best the future King of England at a sport he prides himself in being a champion of. There is such a thing as deference, even for the likes of you and I, my dear.”

 

“I see your point.” Lettice admits reluctantly.

 

It is then that Lettice notices several of the gardener’s boys with birchwood brooms sweeping the lawns around the house of the light dusting of snow that has fallen overnight.

 

“What are Mr. Grimsby’s men doing, John?”

 

“What does it look like, Lettice? Sweeping the snow off the lawns, of course.”

 

“Yes, I can see that,” Lettice replies a little peevishly. “But why are they sweeping the lawns of snow? The Times Daily Weather Report*************** this morning says we’re due for snow again, later today, although looking at the blue skies and sunshine now, I find that hard to believe. Still, it seems a fairly pointless job for the lads to do when we know more flurries are forecast.”

 

“Well, however much I dislike Rippon Court, I’d prefer to save the maids extra cleaning to do. Our guests from the hunting party will be filthy enough after riding across hill and dale when they get back here. So, if I can avoid them trudging in even more dirty snow into Rippon Court, I’m sure Mrs. Mason and her staff will appreciate it. Besides, don’t you remember what I said up in the Book Tower the other day, Lettice my dear?”

 

Lettice screws up her face in disbelief. “You said a great many things, John. You cannot surely expect me to remember them all.”

 

“I don’t, but close attention paid to important matters about the estate won’t do the future chatelaine of Rippon Court any harm.”

 

“Well, I shall try to pay closer attention to important estate matters in the future, John.” Lettice says apologetically. “But since I failed that test, please enlighten me.”

 

“I said that the Rippon Estate is one of the biggest employers in these parts, especially with Wimpole House**************** shut up so much these days*****************, and Mr. Murray running Wrest Park with a staff budget more suited to his middle-class Thirsk townhouse than that which a great park needs. I take that responsibility seriously. Ahh…” He unlinks his arm from Lettice as he spies his chief groundsman and walks up to him with Lettice following in his wake. “Mr. Grimsby. How are you?”

 

The groundsman who quickly withdraws his tweed workman’s cap from his head and clutches it in his hands answers brightly, “Very well, Milord. Thank you for asking.”

 

“You and your staff seem to be doing a beautiful job with the gardens.” Sir John continues.

 

“Ahh, they’re a good bunch, my lads.” Mr, Grimsby says with pride. “Work hard, and don’t put up no nonsense. Good afternoon, Milady.” the gardener says, acknowledging Lettice as she sidles up alongside Sir John. “It’s good of you to come.”

 

“Oh, it’s my pleasure to visit Rippon Court, Grimsby, and to meet you.”

 

“Likewise, I’m sure, Milady.” the servant bobs his head down momentarily in a sign of deference.

 

“We were just admiring the hard work your staff are doing sweeping the snow from the lawns,” Lettice goes on. “Although it must be tedious work for them.”

 

“Ahh, I wouldn’t say that, Milady, more calming than tedious.” He chuckles good naturedly. “It gives them time to clear their heads, and just be at one with their work. Anyway, the lads have to learn their trade doing the less exciting jobs before they can go scaling trees to cut dead branches.”

 

“Where’s your son, Mr. Grimsby?” Sir John asks, scanning the figures of several of the men bent over their work with their backs to him.

 

“Oh, right there, Sir.” Mr. Grimsby answers, pointing to a broad-shouldered young man in a cap with rolled up shirtsleeves nearby.

 

“Good heavens!” Sir John exclaims. “Is that really your Erroll? “

 

“It is, Sir.” Mr. Grimsby says proudly.

 

“But he’s so grown up and bulked now.”

 

“Well,” Mrs. Grimsby says, shaking his head. “Time waits for no man, Sir, and you’ve been gone a while now. He’s not a boy anymore, but a young man, and old enough to have a sweetheart.”

 

“One of Mrs. Mason’s housemaids, or Mrs. Tabner’s kitchen maid?”

 

“Oh no, Sir! They’s all far too hoity-toity, being part of the indoor staff and with their noses stuck in the air, to ever give my Erroll a second glance. His hands are too dirty, Sir, if you know what I mean, Sir, for the likes of them.” He sniffs disparagingly as he nods at the maids in their formal black moiré uniforms with lace caps, cuffs and aprons, usually reserved for evenings, but also worn on special occasions like the visit of a member of the Royal Family.

 

“Nothing wrong with good, honest toil, Grimsby.” Sir John opines, patting his head gardener on the back.

 

“I agree, Sir, but they think otherwise. So, he’s got himself a sweetheart better suited to him, who don’t look down on him: one of the milkmaids from the home farm******************, if it pleases you, Sir.”

 

“Jolly good, Grimsby.” Sir John beams. “Well, I really must congratulate him after His Royal Highness’ visit, before we leave.”

 

“He’d appreciate that, Sir.”

 

“I’ll pop in to visit him, Mrs. Grimsby and you at the cottage before we take our leave.”

 

“That’s very good of you, Sir.” Mr. Grimsby replies in admiration.

 

“I’ll come too, Mr. Grimsby.” Lettice pipes up. “If you’ll have me.”

 

“It’d be an honour, Milady, to have such fine and exalted company in our humble parlour. Mrs. Grimsby will be rightly chuffed, and no mistake!”

 

As Mr. Grimsby backs away, and falls out of earshot, Sir John says, “That was very good of you, Lettice. The staff are all so thrilled to meet their new future mistress.” Sir John links his arm with Lettice again, and directs her over towards the cluster of maids around the table.

 

Lettice remarks as they walk, “You amaze me, dear John.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Well, you admit that you seldom come to Rippon Court, and then only under sufferance, and yet, you know all your staff here so well, it’s as though you are here frequently. I don’t think, since moving up to London, that I know the staff at Glynes half as well as you do the staff here, and they obviously admire and respect you, even though you are seldom here.”

 

“As their employer, I make it my business to keep up with what goes on here, and my Estate Manager Mr. Sutton is the real genius behind this operation, keeping me abreast of all the comings, goings and happenings on the estate. It’s the difference between being an absent landlord who is disinterested, and thus is despised by his staff and treated with suspicion and contempt, like Lord Robartes*******************, and an absent landlord who has genuine interest in his tenants and employees, like me.”

 

“It’s worked very successfully in your favour, John.” Lettice remarks with admiration.

 

The pair approach the green baize covered table where Mrs. Mason and three of her housemaids have been gossiping and twittering like birds as they work, but their cheerful chatter ceases with the approach of their master and future mistress.

 

“Your Lordship. Miss Chetwynd.” Mrs, Mason and her staff politely greet Sir John and Lettice, dropping polite curtseys and lowering their gazes.

 

For the first time, Lettice can see what they were so industriously doing in their cluster. On the table’s surface stand two ornate lidded silver trophies – one large and one small – a punch bowl and three horse trophies, all gleaming in the early afternoon sun. The maids all hold cleaning cloths that show marks where they have polished away tarnish on the silverware.

 

“Thank you, Mrs. Mason, that will be all.” Sir John says dismissing his domestics politely. “You’ve all done a splendid job polishing the silver.”

 

“Thank you, Sir.” Mrs, Mason replies as she shoos and corrals her girls back towards Rippon Court.

 

“So, these are the trophies that you will award to the winners, Lettice my dear.” Sir John says kindly with a sweeping gesture over the pieces.

 

“I wasn’t aware we were presenting trophies, John darling.”

 

Sir John chortles. “Surely you jest, Lettice. How can we host the Prince, and not award trophies? Now, the large one,” he winds his elegant hand with its long fingers around the finial of the largest trophy. “You will present to His Royal Highness.”

 

“If he wins.” Lettice interjects. “We don’t know who the winner of the foxhunt is yet.”

 

“Of course we know, Lettice my dear.” Sir John replies breezily. “It will be the Prince. He is a keen and active sportsman who doesn’t appreciate losing. There can be no other plausible outcome.”

 

“But that isn’t right, if someone else genuinely beats him, John.”

 

“This isn’t a best in show, Lettice.” Sir John insists seriously. “You will present the largest trophy to His Royal Highness out of deference to him.”

 

“Deference I am not unhappy with,” Lettice retorts hotly. “But forgive me for saying, John, but this seems far more like toadying to me.”

 

“Call it what you will, my dear,” Sir John replies dismissively with arched eyebrows and a sour purse of his thin lips. “But whether you like it or not, one day His Royal Highness will be our King. As a Member of Parliament, and a successful businessman, I need the Prince’s favourable opinion now, so that it furthers my own interests in both politics and business once he becomes our Sovereign.”

 

“But I…” Lettice stammers.

 

Sir John sighs deeply. “What did I remark upon about the Prince before, Lettice my dear?”

 

Determined not be caught not paying full attention to what her fiancée said again, and perhaps earning his ire, Lettice thinks quickly. “What His Royal Highness wants, His Royal Highness gets.” she parrots.

 

“Exactly!” Sir John replies with a satisfied sigh and a proud smile. “That’s my clever girl.” He reaches out and tweaks her on the left cheek, a gesture she finds belittling and dislikes so intensely that she moves her head away from his hand with irritation. Seemingly unperturbed by her reaction, Sir John goes on seriously, “You will present His Royal Highness with the large trophy. The smaller trophy may go to whomever Mr. Fitzwilliam, the Master of the Hounds******************** tells you is the official winner of the hunt.”

 

“And if perchance His Royal Highness legitimately wins the hunt?”

 

“The second-place winner.”

 

“Very good.”

 

“The punch bowl you present after the small horse trophies the recipients of which and reasons as to why they receive them you will be told by Mr. Fitzwilliam as well.” He pauses for a moment and thinks. “Be prepared, Lettice my dear, that they are more than likely to be all in the Prince’s coterie.”

 

Lettice sighs and nods. “I understand. And who is the punchbowl for?”

 

“Mr. Murphy, for being Master of the Hunt. Being a businessman, he will expect a quid pro quo for his help with today’s hunt, since I clearly have no aptitude for it, nor wish to participate in it.”

 

“I take it the roses,” Lettice indicates to a bunch of beautiful, full red roses resting on the table’s surface as she places her handbag next to them. “Are for Mrs. Dudley-Ward?”

 

“How perceptive you are, my dear Lettice.” Sir John purrs. “You will make an admirable chatelain of Rippon Court. I always knew you were far more intelligent than all those flibbertigibbet********************* flappers that cloy around me like a swarm of annoying insects at the theatre and parties and balls. The more I come to know you, the more I know I have made the right decision by proposing marriage to you. We will make an excellent team, you and I.”

 

And so saying he winds his arm around Lettice and pulls her closer to him, a gesture she struggles not to react to by pulling away from him in the opposite direction. Just as he does, the sound of horns blasting and hounds barking down the driveway behind a coppice of cedars, can be heard, along with cheerful and voluble conversations.

 

“Ahh! Perfect timing!” Sir John says with satisfaction. “Here comes the victorious hunting party now.”

 

*Baronial style, primarily Scottish Baronial, is a Nineteenth Century Gothic Revival architectural style mimicking medieval Scottish castles, featuring crow-stepped gables, conical towers (tourelles/witches\' hats), battlements, and turrets, creating a romantic, fortified look with asymmetrical plans and heavy stonework, heavily popularized by Sir Walter Scott\'s Abbotsford. It blends Scottish vernacular with French and Gothic elements, evolving from fortified tower houses into grand country homes and public buildings.

 

**Winifred May Mones, Marquesa de Casa Maury, commonly known by her first married name as Freda Dudley Ward, was an English socialite. She was best known for being a married paramour of Edward, Prince of Wales, who later became Edward VIII. She was twice married and divorced. Her first marriage was on 9 July 1913 to William Dudley Ward, the Liberal MP for Southampton. Her first husband\'s family surname was Ward, but \'Dudley Ward\' became their surname through common usage. They divorced on the ground of adultery in 1931 and were the parents of two daughters. Although married in 1913 to William Dudley Ward, Freda was also in a relationship with Edward, Prince of Wales from 1918, until she was supplanted by American Thelma Furness from 1929 to 1934 before he then took up with Wallis Simpson, whom he eventually married and abdicated for.

 

***A stirrup cup is a special drinking vessel, often shaped like an animal\'s head (fox, hound, stag), used historically for a parting drink of fortified wine like port, or sherry, offered to mounted horsemen before a fox hunt, or as a farewell drink as they set off or returned, hence also called a "parting cup". The term can also refer to the drink itself, traditionally consumed in one quick gulp with feet still in the stirrups.

 

****In more socially conscious times it was traditional to wish the bride-to-be happiness, rather than saying congratulations as we do today. Saying congratulations to a bride in past times would have implied that she had won something – her groom. The groom on the other hand was to be congratulated for getting the lady to accept his marriage proposal.

 

*****Nuptials is an alternative word for marriage. The term “nuptials” emphasizes the ceremonial and legal aspects of a marriage, lending a more formal tone to wedding communications and documentation.

 

******Bloodsports are sports or entertainment involving bloodshed, pain, and suffering, typically between animals or humans, like cockfighting, dog fighting, bullfighting, and often including certain types of hunting (like fox hunting or hare coursing) where killing or severe harm is integral to the "sport". These activities are often illegal and controversial today, focusing on violent combat for gambling or amusement, rather than traditional, regulated field sports like normal hunting or fishing. However, in the Victorian and Edwardian eras, fox hunting, grouse shooting and hare coursing were not only commonplace amongst the aristocracy, but a standard part of the London Season, with wealthy families decamping London and retreating to country estates before Christmas to pursue the hunting season and the county balls that went with them throughout January and February.

 

*******In the 1920s, a Master of the Hunt was the individual with ultimate authority over the management and conduct of a fox hunting club and its activities. The role involved significant financial and organisational responsibility.

 

********Wrest Park is a country estate located in Silsoe, Bedfordshire. It comprises Wrest Park, a Grade I listed country house, and Wrest Park Gardens, also Grade I listed, formal gardens surrounding the mansion.

 

*********In 1917, with her brother dead and Wrest House house having suffered a fire when used as a Military Hospital during the Great War, Nan Ino Cooper, 10th Baroness Lucas of Crudwell and 6th Lady Dingwall put Wrest Park up for sale by auction after selling off most of the contents. John George Murray of Thirsk in North Yorkshire bought it. He had been born in 1864 in Consett, Durham, son of Richard Murray JP of Benfieldside, Durham. He married Isabella, daughter of William Charleton in 1892. He became president of Bedfordshire Chamber of Agriculture in 1921 and 1922, and was High Sheriff of the county in 1923. He was essentially a businessman, being Chairman of Associated Breweries Limited, of North Eastern Breweries Limited, of Seaton Burn Coal Company Limited, of North Walbottle Coal Company Limited and of the Owners of Redheugh Colliery Limited. However he also enjoyed county pursuits, including hunting.

 

**********Both men and women wore tweed in the countryside during Edwardian times because of its warmth, durability, and water resistance, making it ideal for outdoor pursuits like hunting, shooting, and cycling, while also signalling association with the elite who popularised it for sporting activities on country estates, with styles like the Norfolk jacket and plus-fours being common for active gentlemen. Originally worn by Scottish peasants, tweed was adopted by the aristocracy for their country estates and sporting pastimes, making it a fashionable symbol of leisure and status for the middle and upper classes.

 

***********Marcelling is a hair styling technique in which hot curling tongs are used to induce a curl into the hair. Its appearance was similar to that of a finger wave but it is created using a different method. Marcelled hair was a popular style for women\'s hair in the 1920s, often in conjunction with a bob cut. For those women who had longer hair, it was common to tie the hair at the nape of the neck and pin it above the ear with a stylish hair pin or flower. One famous wearer was American entertainer, Josephine Baker.

 

************A steeplechase is a long-distance race involving both galloping and jumping over obstacles, primarily fences and water jumps. In horse racing, steeplechases involve horses jumping over various obstacles like fences and ditches.

 

*************Freda Dudley-Ward was the Prince of Wales\'s paramour for many years, with their affair beginning in the early 1920s. Their relationship was not a secret; it was openly acknowledged by their social circles, families, and the public. His parents the King George V and Queen Mary were concerned about the Prince of Wales\'s affair with Freda Dudley-Ward, as it was a public relationship that threatened to cause scandal and damage his reputation, especially given the expectation that he would marry a foreign royal. They disapproved of the affair, viewing it as a public scandal and hoping the situation could be managed and kept out of the papers to protect the monarchy and the future king. It was a source of considerable tension between father and son. The constant disapproval from his father contributed to Edward\'s already existing resentment and hatred for his royal role and the constraints it placed upon him.

 

**************During the 1920s the Prince of Wales, later Edward VIII and Duke of Windsor, was ranked among the most daring horsemen in England. Having forged an impressive reputation in the hunting field for courage, determination and skill, he moved on to steeplechasing furthering the indignation of George V and Queen Mary who urged their son to abandon the dangerous sport. Unheeded Edward broke his collar bone, blacked his eyes and suffered concussion with what seemed to be alarming regularity. The Prince’s addiction to his hazardous hobby even caused the Prime Minister Ramsay Macdonald to request discontinuance. The prince stubbornly refused. Only after the near fatal illness of the King in 1928, did the he finally renounce the sport and order the sale of his entire stud.

 

***************The first daily weather forecasts in UK newspapers were published in The Times on August 1, 1861, by the Meteorological Department of the Board of Trade, the forerunner of the modern Met Office. The Times began publishing daily meteorological reports in September 1860, which provided observational data (temperature, air pressure, rainfall) from around the British Isles, but did not yet include predictions. The first official, government-sanctioned weather "forecasts" (a term coined by the department\'s head, Vice-Admiral Robert FitzRoy) were published daily in The Times and syndicated in other newspapers as of August 1861. These reports predicted the probable weather for the next two days. Following FitzRoy\'s death in May 1866 and a period of scientific scepticism and political debate about their accuracy and cost, the publication of public forecasts ceased temporarily. However public weather forecasts and the Daily Weather Report were officially reintroduced and resumed publication in newspapers due to public demand in April 1879.

 

****************Wimpole Estate is a large estate containing Wimpole Hall, a country house located within the civil parish of Wimpole, Cambridgeshire, nine miles southwest of Cambridge. The house began in 1640 and its 3,000 acres of parkland and farmland are now owned by the National Trust. However, in 1926, when this chapter is set, it was owned by Thomas Charles Agar-Robartes, the 6th Viscount Clifden. The Wimpole Estate is the only visitor attraction in the National Trust portfolio that has a working farm, Home Farm, which is one of the largest centres for rare breeds in the UK.

 

*****************Under the ownership of Lord Robartes, the 6th Viscount Clifden, the grand Wimpole Estate fell into further decay after the neglect of its previous owner, Charles Philip Yorke, 5th Earl of Hardwicke, who was an inveterate gambler who amassed huge debts. Also owning Lanhydrock, a magnificent late Victorian country house with garden and wooded estate in Bodmin, Cornwall, the maintenance on both properties proved to be expensive for Lord Robartes, who only owned Wimpole Hall as a result of payment of debts accrued by the 5th Earl of Hardwicke against the Agar-Robartes Bank, and he was forced to retrench, moving permanently to Lanhydrock. He tried, unsuccessfully for the most part, to lease Wimpole Hall out. By the mid 1920s when this story is set, Wimpole Hall, lacking mains electricity and with primitive drainage and water supply, was only occupied occasionally, usually for game shooting, racing at Newmarket or cricket in front of the house.

 

******************A home farm is traditionally a farm on a large estate, located near the main house, that directly supplies the household with food and supplies, often run by the landowner or a manager, rather than rented to tenants, while today the term also refers to small lifestyle properties or even modern indoor growing systems for personal use.

 

*******************Thomas Charles Agar-Robartes, 6th Viscount Clifden (1 January 1844 – 19 July 1930), styled The Honourable Thomas Agar-Robartes between 1869 and 1882 and known as The Lord Robartes from 1882 to 1899, was a British landowner and Liberal politician. In 1891, as chairman of the Agar-Robartes Bank, he took over the ownership of Wimpole Hall in Cambridgeshire from Charles Yorke, 5th Earl of Hardwicke in payment of debts. After a few years, it was occasionally leased out, but with poor amenities, and the general disrepair of the house, he seldom spent much time there.

 

********************The Master of the Hounds was in charge of the hunt and supervised the field, hounds, and staff. The huntsman, who had bred the hounds and worked with them, would be in charge of the pack during the hunt. Once the group was assembled, the huntsman would lead the pack of hounds and field to where a fox might be hiding.

 

*********************The word "flibbertigibbet" originated in Middle English (before 1450) as an onomatopoeic term like fleper-gebet, meaning a chatterer or gossip, with its earliest known use in The Castle of Perseverance. It evolved to name a devil or imp in the early 1600s, notably in Shakespeare\'s King Lear, before becoming the familiar term for a flighty person, a meaning popularised by Sir Walter Scott in the Nineteenth Century.

 

Beautiful as they may be, this selection of trophies may not be all it seems, for it is in fact made up of miniatures from my 1:12 miniatures collection.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableau include:

 

The large and medium sized lidded trophies and the punch bowl were made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. The three tiny horses also come from my friend Kim (BKHagar *Kim*) and were sent to me last Christmas as a present.

 

Lettice’s snakeskin handbag lying on the chaise, with its gold clasp and chain comes from Doreen Jeffries’ Small Wonders Miniature Shop in the United Kingdom.

 

The red roses are hand made miniatures from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering.

 

The collapsable card table with its green baize surface is a handmade artisan miniature by an unknown maker that I acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House shop in the United Kingdom.

 

The grass and trees in the background standing in as the Rippon Estate are real, as this scene was photographed in my front garden during the height of summer, on a partially sunny day.

For the first time since the pandemic (except maybe the slumber party with the Poppy Parker Loves Mystery Date reveal) we had a real collection revealed yesterday ... what a joy ! For me Poppy Parker is always synonym to pleasure and fun ...

 

What an excitement to see at last the reveal of the long awaited 'Poppy Parker in Palm Spring' collection since it was announced during the 2020 virtual convention ...

 

As we don't have a friend to join Poppy in this collection, I'm really happy that Sergio appears for the second time ... he has a mini gift set with a white polo, a pink shirt, a swimming suit and shoes added to his beautiful suit and luxurious white shoes ... he is the perfect companion for any occasion during this vacation ...

Henk and Tobi enjoying their lazy sunday.

The days drag and the weeks fly by.

 

It has been a grim week at work, and yet the weekend is here once again.

 

The cold snap is still here; thick frosts and icy patches, but Sunday afternoon storms will sweep in from the west and temperatures will soar by day to 13 degrees.

 

But for now it is cold, and colder at nights, the wood burner makes the living room toasty warm, though the rest of the house seems like a fridge in comparison.

 

Even though we went to bed at nine, we slept to nearly half seven, which meant we were already later than usual going to Tesco.

 

We had a coffee first, then got dressed and went out into the winter wonderland.

 

Tesco was more crowded mainly because we were an hour later. There were no crackers for cheese, a whole aisle empty of cream crackers and butter wafers.

 

There is only so much food you can eat even over Christmas, so the cracker-shortage won't affect us, we have two Dundee cakes, filling for two lots of mince pies and pastry for five lots of sausage rolls.

 

We won't starve.

 

We buy another bag of stuff for the food bank, try to get two weeks of stuff so we wont need to go next weekend, just to a farm shop for vegetables, and the butcher for the Christmas order, though on the 25th we are going out for dinner to the Lantern.

 

Back home for fruit, then bacon butties and another huge brew. Yes, smoked bacon is again in short supply, with just the basic streaky smoked available, but we're not fussy, so that does the trick.

 

Also, Jools picked up her inhalers for her cough, and so, we hope, the road to recovery begins.

 

What to do with the day?

 

Although a walk would have been good, Jools can do no more than ten minutes in freezing conditions before a coughing fits starts, so a couple of churches to revisit and take more shots of.

 

First on the list was St Leonard in Upper Deal. A church I have only have been inside once. As it was just half ten, there should have been a chance it was open, but no. We parked up and I walked over the road to try the porch door, but it was locked.

 

No worries, as the next two would certainly be open.

 

Just up the road towards Canterbury is Ash.

 

Ash is a large village that the main roads now bypass its narrow streets, and buses call not so frequently.

 

The church towers over the village, its spire piercing the grey sky. We park beside the old curry hours than burned down a decade ago, is now a house and no sign of damage.

 

indeed the church was open, though the porch door was closed, it opened with use of the latch, and the inner glass door swung inwards, revealing an interior I had forgotten about, rich Victorian glass let in the weak sunlight, allowing me to take detailed shots. It was far better and more enjoyable than I remembered.

 

Once I took 200 or so shots, we went back to the car, drove back to the main road, and on to Wingham, where the church there, a twin of Wingham, would also be open too.

 

And it was.

 

The wardens were just finishing trimming the church up, and putting out new flowers, it was a bustle of activity, then one by one they left.

 

got my shots, and we left, back to the car and to home, though we did stop at he farm shop at Aylsham, and all we wanted was some sweet peppers for hash.

 

We went in and there was the bakery: I bought two sausage rolls, four small pork pies and two Cajun flavours scotch eggs. We got cider, beer, healthy snacks (we told ourselves) and finally found the peppers.

 

Three peppers cost £50!

 

Then back home, along the A2.

 

And arriving back home at one. We feasted on the scotch eggs and two of the pork pies.

 

Yummy.

 

There was the third place play off game to watch on the tellybox, the Football league to follow on the radio. We lit the woodburner and it was soon toasty warm.

 

At half five, Norwich kicked off, and hopes were high as Blackburn had not beaten us in over a decade.

 

And, yes you guessed it, Norwich lost. Played poorly, and in Dad's words, were lucky to get nil.

 

Oh dear.

 

Oh dear indeed.

 

We have Christmas cake for supper, and apart from the football, as was well with the world.

 

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A large and impressive church of mainly thirteenth century date over restored in 1847 by the irrepressible William Butterfield. The scale of the interior is amazing - particularly in the tower crossing arches which support the enormous spire. They are an obvious insertion into an earlier structure. The best furnishing at Ash is the eighteenth century font which stands on an inscribed base. For the visitor interested in memorials, Ash ahs more than most ranging from the fourteenth century effigy of a knight to two excellent alabaster memorials to Sir Thomas Harfleet (d 1612) and Christopher Toldervy (d 1618). Mrs Toldervy appears twice in the church for she accompanies her husband on his memorial and may also be seen as a `weeper` on her parents` memorial! On that she is one of two survivors of what was once a group of seven daughters - all her weeping brothers have long since disappeared.

 

www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Ash+2

 

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ASH

LIES adjoining to the last-described parish of Staple northward. It is written in Domesday, Ece, and in other antient records, Aisse, and is usually called Ash, near Sandwich, to distinguish it from Ash, near Wrotham.

 

The parish of Ash is very large, extending over a variety of soil and country, of hill, dale, and marsh lands, near four miles across each way, and containing more than six thousand acres of land, of which about one half is marsh, the river Stour being its northern bounday, where it is very wet and unwholesone, but the southern or upland part of the parish is very dary, pleasant and healthy. The soil in general is fertile, and lets on an average at about one pound an acre; notwithstanding, there is a part of it about Ash-street and Gilton town, where it is a deep sand. The village of Ash, commonly called Ash-street, situated in this part of it, on high ground, mostly on the western declivity of a hill, having the church on the brow of it, is built on each side of the road from Canterbury to Sandwich, and contains about fifty houses. On the south side of this road, about half a mile westward, is a Roman burial ground, of which further mention will be taken hereaster, and adjoining to it the hamlet of Gilton town, formerly written Guildanton, in which is Gilton parsonage, a neat stuccoed house, lately inhabited by Mr. Robert Legrand, and now by Mrs. Becker. In the valley southward stands Mote farm, alias Brooke house, formerly the habitation of the Stoughtons, then of the Ptoroude's and now the property of Edward Solly, esq. of London.

 

There are dispersed throughout this large parish many small hamlets and farms, which have been formerly of more consequence, from the respective owners and in habitants of them, all which, excepting East and New Street, and Great Pedding, (the latter of which was the antient residence of the family of solly, who lie buried in Ash church-yard, and bore for their arms, Vert, a chevron, per pale, or, and gules, between three soles naiant, argent, and being sold by one of them to dean Lynch, is now in the possession of lady Lynch, the widow of Sir William Lynch, K. B.) are situated in the northern part of the parish, and contain together about two hundred and fifty houses, among them is Hoden, formerly the residence of the family of St. Nicholas; Paramour-street, which for many years was the residence of those of that name, and Brook-street, in which is Brook-house, the residence of the Brooke's, one of whom John Brooke, esq. in queen Elizabeth's reign, resided here, and bore for his arms, Per bend, vert and sable, two eagles, counterchanged.

 

William, lord Latimer, anno 38 Edward III. obtained a market to be held at Ash, on a Thursday; and a fair yearly on Lady-day, and the two following ones. A fair is now held in Ash-street on Lady and Michaelmas days yearly.

 

In 1473 there was a lazar house for the infirm of the leprosy, at Eche, near Sandwich.

 

¶The manor of Wingham claims paramount over this parish, subordinate to which there were several manors in it, held of the archbishop, to whom that manor belonged, the mansions of which, being inhabited by families of reputation and of good rank in life, made this parish of much greater account than it has been for many years past, the mansions of them having been converted for a length of time into farmhouses to the lands to which they belong.

 

f this manor, (viz. Wingham) William de Acris holds one suling in Fletes, and there he has in demesne one carucate and four villeins, and one knight with one carucate, and one fisbery, with a saltpit of thirty pence. The whole is worth forty shillings.

 

This district or manor was granted by archbishop Lanfranc, soon after this, to one Osberne, (fn. 7) of whom I find no further mention, nor of this place, till king Henry III.'s reign, when it seems to have been separated into two manors, one of which, now known by the name of the manor of Gurson Fleet, though till of late time by that of Fleet only, was held afterwards of the archbishop by knight's service, by the family of Sandwich, and afterwards by the Veres, earls of Oxford, one of whom, Robert de Vere, earl of Oxford, who died anno 3 Edward III. was found by the escheat-rolls of that year, to have died possessed of this manor of Fleet, which continued in his descendants down to John de Vere, earl of Oxford, who for his attachment to the house of Lancaster, was attainted in the first year of king Edward IV. upon which this manor came into the hands of the crown, and was granted the next year to Richard, duke of Gloucester, the king's brother, with whom it staid after his succession to the crown, as king Richard III. on whose death, and the accession of king Henry VII. this manor returned to the possession of John, earl of Oxford, who had been attainted, but was by parliament anno I Henry VII. restored in blood, titles and possessions. After which this manor continued in his name and family till about the middle of queen Elizabeth's reign, when Edward Vere, earl of Oxford, alienated it to Hammond, in whose descendants it continued till one of them, in the middle of king Charles II.'s reign, sold it to Thomas Turner, D. D. who died possessed of it in 1672, and in his name and descendants it continued till the year 1748, when it was sold to John Lynch, D. D. dean of Canterbury, whose son Sir William Lynch, K. B. died possessed of it in 1785, and by his will devised it, with the rest of his estates, to his widow lady Lynch, who is the present possessor of it. A court baron is held for this manor.

 

Archbishop Lanfranc, on his founding the priory of St. Gregory, in the reign of the Conqueror, gave to it the tithe of the manor of Fleet; which gift was confirmed by archbishop Hubert in Richard I.'s reign. This portion of tithes, which arose principally from Gurson Fleet manor, remained with the priory at its dissolution, and is now part of Goldston parsonage, parcel of the see of Canterbury, of which further mention has been made before.

 

The other part of the district of Fleet was called, to distinguish it, and from the possessors of it, the manor of Nevills Fleet, though now known by the name of Fleet only, is situated between Gurson and Richborough, adjoining to the former. This manor was held in king John's reign of the archbishop, by knight's service, by Thomas Pincerna, so called probably from his office of chief butler to that prince, whence his successors assumed the name of Butler, or Boteler. His descendant was Robert le Boteler, who possessed this manor in king Ed ward I.'s reign, and from their possession of it, this manor acquired for some time the name of Butlers Fleet; but in the 20th year of king Edward III. William, lord Latimer of Corbie, appears to have been in the possession of it, and from him it acquired the name of Latimers Fleet. He bore for his arms, Gules, a cross flory, or. After having had summons to parliament, (fn. 8) he died in the begening of king Richard II.'s reign, leaving Elizabeth his sole daughter and heir, married to John, lord Nevill, of Raby, whose son John bore the title of lord Latimer, and was summoned to parliament as lord Latimer, till the 9th year of king Henry VI. in which he died, so that the greatest part of his inheritance, among which was this manor, came by an entail made, to Ralph, lord Nevill, and first earl of Westmoreland, his eldest, but half brother, to whom he had sold, after his life, the barony of Latimer, and he, by seoffment, vested it, with this manor and much of the inheritance above-mentioned, in his younger son Sir George Nevill, who was accordingly summoned to parliament as lord Latimer, anno 10 Henry VI. and his grandson Richard, lord Latimer, in the next regin of Edward IV. alienated this manor, which from their length of possession of it, had acquired the name of Nevill's Fleet, to Sir James Cromer, and his son Sir William Cromer, in the 11th year of king Henry VII, sold it to John Isaak, who passed it away to Kendall, and he, in the beginning of king Henry VIII.'s reign, sold it to Sir John Fogge, of Repton, in Ashford, who died possessed of it in 1533, and his son, of the same name, before the end of it, passed it away to Mr. Thomas Rolfe, and he sold it, within a few years afterwards, to Stephen Hougham, gent. of this parish, who by his will in 1555, devised it to his youngest son Rich. Hougham, of Eastry, from one of whose descendants it was alienated to Sir Adam Spracklin, who sold it to one of the family of Septvans, alias Harflete, in which name it continued till within a few years after the death of king Charles I. when by a female heir Elizabeth it went in marriage to Thomas Kitchell, esq. in whose heirs it continued till it was at length, about the year 1720, alienated by one of them to Mr. Thomas Bambridge, warden of the Fleet prison, upon whose death it became vested in his heirs-at-law, Mr. James Bambridge, of the Temple, attorney at-law, and Thomas Bambridge, and they divided this estate, and that part of it allotted to the latter was soon afterwards alienated by him to Mr. Peter Moulson, of London, whose only daughter and heir carried it in marriage to Mr. Geo. Vaughan, of London, and he and the assignees of Mr. James Bambridge last mentioned, have lately joined in the conveyance of the whole fee of this manor to Mr. Joseph Solly, gent. of Sandwich, the present owner of it. There is not any court held for this manor.

 

In this district, and within this manor of Fleet lastmentioned, there was formerly a chapel of cose to the church of Ash, as that was to the church of Wingham, to which college, on its foundation by archbishop Peckham in 1286, the tithes, rents, obventions, &c of this chapel and district was granted by him, for the support in common of the provost and canons of it, with whom it remained till the suppression of it, anno I king Edward VI. The tithes, arising from this manor of Fleet, and the hamlet of Richborough, are now a part of the rectory of Ash, and of that particular part of it called Gilton parsonage, parcel of the possessions of the see of Canterbury, of which further mention will be made hereafter. There have not been any remains left of it for a long time part.

 

Richborough is a hamlet and district of land, in the south-east part of this parish, rendered famous from the Roman fort and town built there, and more so formerly, from the port or haven close adjoining to it.

 

It was in general called by the Romans by the plural name of Rutupiæ; for it must be observed that the æstuary, which at that time separated the Isle of Thanet from the main land of Kent, and was the general passage for shipping,had at each mouth of it, towards the sea, a fort and haven, called jointly Rutupiæ. That at the northern part and of it being now called Reculver, and that at the eastern, being the principal one, this of Richborough.

 

The name of it is variously spelt in different authors. By Ptolemy it is written [Patapiaia (?)] urbem; by Tacitus, according to the best reading, Portus, Rutupensis; by Antonine, in his Itinerary, Ritupas, and Ritupis Portum; by Ammianus, Ritupiæ statio; afterwards by the Saxons, Reptacester, and now Richborough.

 

The haven, or Portus Rutupinus, or Richborough, was very eminent in the time of the Romans, and much celebrated in antient history, being a safe and commodious harbour, stationem ex adverso tranquillam, as Ammianus calls it, situated at the entrance of the passage towards then Thamas, and becoming the general place of setting sail from Britain to the continent, and where the Roman fleets arrived, and so large and extensive was the bay of it, that it is supposed to have extended far beyond Sandwich on the one side, almost to Ramsgate cliffs on the other, near five miles in width, covering the whole of that flat of land on which Stonar and Sandwich were afterwards built, and extending from thence up the æstuary between the Isle of Thanet and the main land. So that Antonine might well name it the Port, in his Itinerary, [Kat exochin], from there being no other of like consequence, and from this circumstance the shore for some distance on each side acquired the general name of Littus Rutupinum, the Rutupian shore. (fn. 9) Some have contended that Julius Cæsar landed at Richborough, in his expeditions into Britain; but this opinion is refuted by Dr. Hasley in Phil, Trans. No. 193, who plainly proves his place of landing to have been in the Downs. The fort of Richborough, from the similarity of the remains of it to those of Reculver, seems to have been built about the same time, and by the same emperer, Serveris, about the year 205. It stands on the high hill, close to a deep precipice eastward, at the soot of which was the haven. In this fortress, so peculiarly strengthened by its situation, the Romans had afterwards a stationary garrison, and here they had likewise a pharos, of watch tower, the like as at Reculver and other places on this coast, as well to guide the shipping into the haven, as to give notice of the approach of enemies. It is by most supposed that there was, in the time of the Romans, near the fort, in like manner as at Reculver, a city or town, on the decline of the hill, south-westward from it, according to custom, at which a colony was settled by them. Prolemy, in his geography, reckons the city Rutpia as one of the three principal cities of Kent. (fn. 10) Orosius. and Bede too, expressly mention it as such; but when the haven decayed, and there was no longer a traffic and resort to this place, the town decayed likewise, and there have not been, for many ages since, any remains whatever of it left; though quantities of coins and Roman antiquities have been sound on the spot where it is supposed to have once stood.

 

During the latter part of the Roman empire, when the Saxons prevented all trade by sea, and insefted these coasts by frequent robberies, the second Roman legion, called Augusta, and likewise Britannica, which had been brought out of Germany by the emperor Claudius, and had resided for many years at the Isca Silurum, in Wales, was removed and stationed here, under a president or commander, præpositus, of its own, who was subordinate to the count of the Saxon shore, and continued so till the final departure of the Romans from Britain, in the year 410, when this fortress was left in the hands of the Britons, who were afterwards dispossessed of it by the Saxons, during whose time the harbour seems to have began to decay and to swerve up, the sea by degrees entirely deserting it at this place, but still leaving one large and commodious at Sandwich, which in process of time became the usual resort for shipping, and arose a flourishing harbour in its stead, as plainly appears by the histories of those times, by all of which, both the royal Saxon fleets, as well as those of the Danes, are said to sail for the port of Sandwich, and there to lie at different times; (fn. 11) and no further mention is made by any of them of this of Rutupiæ, Reptachester, or Richborough; so that the port being thus destroyed, the town became neglected and desolate, and with the castle sunk into a heap of ruins. Leland's description of it in king Henry VIII.'s reign, is very accurate, and gives an exceeding good idea of the progressive state of its decay to that time. He says, "Ratesburg otherwyse Richeboro was, of ever the ryver of Sture dyd turn his botom or old canale, withyn the Isle of the Thanet, and by Iykelyhod the mayn se came to the very foote of the castel. The mayn se ys now of yt a myle by reason of wose, that has there swollen up. The scite of the town or castel ys wonderful fair apon an hille. The walles the wich remayn ther yet be in cumpase almost as much as the tower of London. They have bene very hye thykke stronge and wel embateled. The mater of them is flynt mervelus and long brykes both white and redde after the Britons fascion. The sement was made of se sand and smaul pible. Ther is a great lykelyhod that the goodly hil abowte the castel and especially to Sandwich ward hath bene wel inhabited. Corne groweth on the hille yn bene mervelous plenty and yn going to plowgh ther hath owt of mynde fownd and now is mo antiquities of Romayne money than yn any place els of England surely reason speketh that this should be Rutupinum. For byside that the name sumwhat toucheth, the very near passage fro Cales Clyves or Cales was to Ratesburgh and now is to Sandwich, the which is about a myle of; though now Sandwich be not celebrated by cawse of Goodwine sandes and the decay of the haven. Ther is a good flyte shot of fro Ratesburg toward Sandwich a great dyke caste in a rownd cumpas as yt had bene for sens of menne of warre. The cumpase of the grownd withyn is not much above an acre and yt is very holo by casting up the yerth. They cawle the place there Lytleborough. Withyn the castel is a lytle paroche chirch of St. Augustine and an heremitage. I had antiquities of the heremite the which is an industrious man. Not far fro the hermitage is a cave wher men have sowt and digged for treasure. I saw it by candel withyn, and ther were conys. Yt was so straite that I had no mynd to crepe far yn. In the north side of the castel ys a hedde yn the walle, now fore defaced with wether. They call it queen Bertha hedde. Nere to that place hard by the wal was a pot of Romayne mony sownd."

 

The ruins of this antient castle stand upon the point of a hill or promontory, about a mile north-west from Sandwich, overlooking on each side, excepting towards the west, a great flat which appears by the lowness of it, and the banks of beach still shewing themselves in different places, to have been all once covered by the sea. The east side of this hill is great part of it so high and perpendicular from the flat at the foot of it, where the river Stour now runs, that ships with the greatest burthen might have lain close to it, and there are no signs of any wall having been there; but at the north end, where the ground rises into a natural terrace, so as to render one necessary, there is about 190 feet of wall left. Those on the other three sides are for the most part standing, and much more entire than could be expected, considering the number of years since they were built, and the most so of any in the kingdom, except Silchester. It is in shape an oblong square, containing within it a space of somewhat less than five acres. They are in general about ten feet high within, but their broken tops shew them to have been still higher. The north wall, on the outside, is about twice as high as it is within, or the other two, having been carried up from the very bottom of the hill, and it seems to have been somewhat longer than it is at present, by some pieces of it sallen down at the east end. The walls are about eleven feet thick. In the middle of the west side is the aperture of an entrance, which probably led to the city or town, and on the north side is another, being an entrance obliquely into the castle. Near the middle of the area are the ruins of some walls, full of bushes and briars, which seem as if some one had dug under ground among them, probably where once stood the prætorium of the Roman general, and where a church or chapel was afterwards erected, dedicated to St. Augustine, and taken notice of by Leland as such in his time. It appears to have been a chapel of ease to the church of Ash, for the few remaining inhabitants of this district, and is mentioned as such in the grant of the rectory of that church, anno 3 Edward VI. at which time it appears to have existed. About a furlong to the south, in a ploughed field, is a large circular work, with a hollow in the middle, the banks of unequal heights, which is supposed to have been an amphitheatre, built of turf, for the use of the garrison, the different heights of the banks having been occasioned by cultivation, and the usual decay, which must have happened from so great a length of time. These stations of the Romans, of which Richborough was one, were strong fortifications, for the most part of no great compass or extent, wherein were barracks for the loding of the soldiers, who had their usual winter quarters in them. Adjoining, or at no great distance from them, there were usually other, buildings forming a town; and such a one was here at Richborough, as has been already mentioned before, to which the station or fort was in the nature of a citadel, where the soldiers kept garrison. To this Tacitus seems to allude, when he says, "the works that in time of peace had been built, like a free town, not far from the camp, were destroyed, left they should be of any service to the enemy." (fn. 12) Which in great measure accounts for there being no kind of trace or remains left, to point out where this town once stood, which had not only the Romans, according to the above observation, but the Saxons and Danes afterwards, to carry forward at different æras the total destruction of it.

 

The burial ground for this Roman colony and station of Richborough, appears to have been on the hill at the end of Gilton town, in this parish, about two miles south-west from the castle, and the many graves which have been continually dug up there, in different parts of it, shew it to have been of general use for that purpose for several ages.

 

The scite of the castle at Richborough was part of the antient inheritance of the family of the Veres, earls of Oxford, from which it was alienated in queen Elizabeth's reign to Gaunt; after which it passed, in like manner as Wingham Barton before-described, to Thurbarne, and thence by marriage to Rivett, who sold it to Farrer, from whom it was alienated to Peter Fector, esq. of Dover, the present possessor of it. In the deed of conveyance it is thus described: And also all those the walls and ruins of the antient castle of Rutupium, now known by the name of Richborough castle, with the scite of the antient port and city of Rutupinum, being on and near the lands before-mentioned. About the walls of Richborough grows Fæniculum valgare, common fennel, in great plenty.

 

It may be learned from the second iter of Antonine's Itinerary, that there was once a Roman road, or highway from Canterbury to the port of Richborough, in which iter the two laft stations are, from Durovernum, Canterbury, to Richborough, ad portum Rutupis, xii miles; in which distance all the different copies of the Itinerary agree. Some parts of this road can be tracted at places at this time with certainty; and by the Roman burial-ground, usually placed near the side of a high road, at Gilton town, and several other Roman vestigia thereabouts, it may well be supposed to have led from Canterbury through that place to Richborough, and there is at this time from Goldston, in Ash, across the low-grounds to it, a road much harder and broader than usual for the apparent use of it, which might perhaps be some part of it.

 

Charities.

A person unknown gave four acres and an half of land, in Chapman-street, of the annual produce of 5l. towards the church assessments.

 

Thomas St. Nicholas, esq. of this parish, by deed about the year 1626, gave an annuity of 11. 5s. to be paid from his estate of Hoden, now belonging to the heirs of Nathaniel Elgar, esq. to be distributed yearly, 10s. to the repairing and keeping clean the Toldervey monument in this church, and 15s. on Christmas-day to the poor.

 

John Proude, the elder, of Ash, yeoman, by his will in 1626, ordered that his executor should erect upon his land adjoining to the church-yard, a house, which should be disposed of in future by the churchwardens and overseers, for a school-house, and for a storehouse, to lay in provision for the church and poor. This house is now let at 1l. per annum, and the produce applied to the use of the poor.

 

Richard Camden, in 1642, gave by will forty perches of land, for the use of the poor, and of the annual produce of 15s. now vested in the minister and churchwardens.

 

Gervas Cartwright, esq. and his two sisters, in 1710 and 1721, gave by deed an estate, now of the yearly value of 50l. for teaching fifty poor children to read, write, &c. vested in the minister, churchwardens, and other trustees.

 

The above two sisters, Eleanor and Anne Cartwright, gave besides 100l. for beautifying the chancel, and for providing two large pieces of plate for the communion service; and Mrs. Susan Robetts added two other pieces of plate for the same purpose.

 

There is a large and commodious workhouse lately built, for the use of the poor, to discharge the expence of which, 100l. is taken yearly out of the poor's rate, till the whole is discharged. In 1604, the charges of the poor were 29l. 15s. 11d. In 1779. 1000l.

 

There is a charity school for boys and girls, who are educated, but not cloathed.

 

The poor constantly relieved are about seventy-five, casually fifty-five.

 

This parish is within the ecclesiastical jurisdiction of the dioceseof Canterbury, and deanry of Bridge.

 

The church, which is dedicated to St. Nicholas, is a handsome building, of the form of a cross, consisting of two isles and two chancels, and a cross sept, having a tall spire steeple in the middle, in which are eight bells and a clock. It is very neat and handsome in the inside. In the high or south chancel is a monument for the Roberts's, arms, Argent, three pheons, sable, on a chief of the second, a greybound current of the first; another for the Cartwrights, arms, Or, a fess embattled, between three catherine wheels, sable. In the north wall is a monument for one of the family of Leverick, with his effigies, in armour, lying cross-legged on it; and in the same wall, westward, is another like monument for Sir John Goshall, with his effigies on it, in like manner, and in a hollow underneath, the effigies of his wife, in her head-dress, and wimple under her chin. A gravestone, with an inscription, and figure of a woman with a remarkable high high-dress, the middle part like a horseshoe inverted, for Jane Keriell, daughter of Roger Clitherow. A stone for Benjamin Longley, LL. B. minister of Ash twenty-nine years, vicar of Eynsford and Tonge, obt. 1783. A monument for William Brett, esq. and Frances his wife. The north chancel, dedicated to St. Nicholas, belongs to the manor of Molland. Against the north wall is a tomb, having on it the effigies of a man and woman, lying at full length, the former in armour, and sword by his side, but his head bare, a collar of SS about his neck, both seemingly under the middle age, but neither arms nor inscription, but it was for one of the family of Harflete, alias Septvans; and there are monuments and several memorials and brasses likewise for that family. A memorial for Thomas Singleton, M. D. of Molland, obt. 1710. One for John Brooke, of Brookestreet, obt. 1582, s. p. arms, Per bend, two eagles.—Several memorials for the Pekes, of Hills-court, and for Masters, of Goldstone. A monument for Christopher Toldervy, of Chartham, obt. 1618. A memorial for Daniel Hole, who, as well as his ancestors, had lived upwards of one hundred years at Goshall, as occupiers of it. In the north cross, which was called the chapel of St. Thomas the Martyr, was buried the family of St. Nicholas. The brass plates of whom, with their arms, are still to be seen. A tablet for Whittingham Wood, gent. obt. 1656. In the south cross, a monument for Richard Hougham, gent. of Weddington, and Elizabeth his wife, daughter of Edward Sanders, gent. of Norborne. An elegant monument for Mary, wife of Henry Lowman, esq. of Dortnued, in Germany. She died in 1737, and he died in 1743. And for lieutenant colonel Christopher Ernest Kien, obt. 1744, and Jane his wife, their sole daughter and heir, obt. 1762, and for Evert George Cousemaker, esq. obt. 1763, all buried in a vault underneath, arms, Or, on a mount vert, a naked man, bolding a branch in his hand, proper, impaling per bend sinister, argent and gules, a knight armed on borjeback, holding a tilting spear erect, the point downwards, all counterchanged. On the font is inscribed, Robert Minchard, arms, A crescent, between the points of it a mullet. Several of the Harfletes lie buried in the church-yard, near the porch, but their tombs are gone. On each side of the porch are two compartments of stone work, which were once ornamented with brasses, most probably in remembrance of the Harfleets, buried near them. At the corner of the church-yard are two old tombs, supposed for the family of Alday.

 

In the windows of the church were formerly several coats of arms, and among others, of Septvans, alias Harflete, Notbeame, who married Constance, widow of John Septvans; Brooke, Ellis, Clitherow, Oldcastle, Keriell, and Hougham; and the figures of St. Nicholas, Keriell, and Hougham, kneeling, in their respective surcoats of arms, but there is not any painted glass left in any part of the church or chancels.

 

John Septvans, about king Henry VII.'s reign, founded a chantry, called the chantry of the upper Hall, as appears by the will of Katherine Martin, of Faversham, sometime his wife, in 1497. There was a chantry of our blessed Lady, and another of St. Stephen likewise, in it; both suppressed in the 1st year of king Edward VI. when the former of them was returned to be of the clear yearly certified value of 15l. 11s. 1½d. (fn. 13)

 

The church of Ash was antiently a chapel of east to that of Wingham, and was, on the foundation of the college there in 1286, separated from it, and made a distinct parish church of itself, and then given to the college, with the chapels likewise of Overland and Fleet, in this parish, appurtenant to this church; which becoming thus appropriated to the college, continued with it till the suppression of it in king Edward VI.'s reign, when this part of the rectory or parsonage appropriate, called Overland parsonage, with the advowson of the church, came, with the rest of the possessions of the college, into the hands of the crown, where the advowson of the vicarage, or perpetual curacy of it did not remain long, for in the year 1558, queen Mary granted it, among others, to the archbishop. But the above-mentioned part of the rectory, or parsonage appropriate of Ash, with those chapels, remained in the crown, till queen Elizabeth, in her 3d year, granted it in exchange to archbishop Parker, who was before possessed of that part called Goldston parsonage, parcel of the late dissolved priory of St. Gregory, by grant from king Henry VIII. so that now this parish is divided into two distinct parsonages, viz. of Overland and of Goldston, which are demised on separate beneficial leases by the archbishop, the former to the heirs of Parker, and the latter, called Gilton parsonage, from the house and barns of it being situated in that hamlet, to George Gipps, esq. M. P. for Canterbury. The patronage of the perpetual curacy remains parcel of the possessions of the see of Canterbury.

 

¶At the time this church was appropriated to the college of Wingham, a vicarage was endowed in it, which after the suppression of the college came to be esteemed as a perpetual curacy. It is not valued in the king's books. The antient stipend paid by the provost, &c. to the curate being 16l. 13s. 4d. was in 1660, augmented by archbishop Juxon with the addition of 33l. 6s. 8d. per annum; and it was afterwards further augmented by archbishop Sheldon, anno 28 Charles II. with twenty pounds per annum more, the whole to be paid by the several lessees of these parsonages. Which sum of seventy pounds is now the clear yearly certified value of it. In 1588 here were communicants five hundred; in 1640, eight hundred and fifty. So far as appears by the registers, the increase of births in this parish is almost double to what they were two hundred years ago.

 

www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-kent/vol9/pp191-224

This was the Paramour's take on a Manhattan. I thought the giant square ice cube in the middle made the drink an incredible looking one.

The days drag and the weeks fly by.

 

It has been a grim week at work, and yet the weekend is here once again.

 

The cold snap is still here; thick frosts and icy patches, but Sunday afternoon storms will sweep in from the west and temperatures will soar by day to 13 degrees.

 

But for now it is cold, and colder at nights, the wood burner makes the living room toasty warm, though the rest of the house seems like a fridge in comparison.

 

Even though we went to bed at nine, we slept to nearly half seven, which meant we were already later than usual going to Tesco.

 

We had a coffee first, then got dressed and went out into the winter wonderland.

 

Tesco was more crowded mainly because we were an hour later. There were no crackers for cheese, a whole aisle empty of cream crackers and butter wafers.

 

There is only so much food you can eat even over Christmas, so the cracker-shortage won't affect us, we have two Dundee cakes, filling for two lots of mince pies and pastry for five lots of sausage rolls.

 

We won't starve.

 

We buy another bag of stuff for the food bank, try to get two weeks of stuff so we wont need to go next weekend, just to a farm shop for vegetables, and the butcher for the Christmas order, though on the 25th we are going out for dinner to the Lantern.

 

Back home for fruit, then bacon butties and another huge brew. Yes, smoked bacon is again in short supply, with just the basic streaky smoked available, but we're not fussy, so that does the trick.

 

Also, Jools picked up her inhalers for her cough, and so, we hope, the road to recovery begins.

 

What to do with the day?

 

Although a walk would have been good, Jools can do no more than ten minutes in freezing conditions before a coughing fits starts, so a couple of churches to revisit and take more shots of.

 

First on the list was St Leonard in Upper Deal. A church I have only have been inside once. As it was just half ten, there should have been a chance it was open, but no. We parked up and I walked over the road to try the porch door, but it was locked.

 

No worries, as the next two would certainly be open.

 

Just up the road towards Canterbury is Ash.

 

Ash is a large village that the main roads now bypass its narrow streets, and buses call not so frequently.

 

The church towers over the village, its spire piercing the grey sky. We park beside the old curry hours than burned down a decade ago, is now a house and no sign of damage.

 

indeed the church was open, though the porch door was closed, it opened with use of the latch, and the inner glass door swung inwards, revealing an interior I had forgotten about, rich Victorian glass let in the weak sunlight, allowing me to take detailed shots. It was far better and more enjoyable than I remembered.

 

Once I took 200 or so shots, we went back to the car, drove back to the main road, and on to Wingham, where the church there, a twin of Wingham, would also be open too.

 

And it was.

 

The wardens were just finishing trimming the church up, and putting out new flowers, it was a bustle of activity, then one by one they left.

 

got my shots, and we left, back to the car and to home, though we did stop at he farm shop at Aylsham, and all we wanted was some sweet peppers for hash.

 

We went in and there was the bakery: I bought two sausage rolls, four small pork pies and two Cajun flavours scotch eggs. We got cider, beer, healthy snacks (we told ourselves) and finally found the peppers.

 

Three peppers cost £50!

 

Then back home, along the A2.

 

And arriving back home at one. We feasted on the scotch eggs and two of the pork pies.

 

Yummy.

 

There was the third place play off game to watch on the tellybox, the Football league to follow on the radio. We lit the woodburner and it was soon toasty warm.

 

At half five, Norwich kicked off, and hopes were high as Blackburn had not beaten us in over a decade.

 

And, yes you guessed it, Norwich lost. Played poorly, and in Dad's words, were lucky to get nil.

 

Oh dear.

 

Oh dear indeed.

 

We have Christmas cake for supper, and apart from the football, as was well with the world.

 

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A large and impressive church of mainly thirteenth century date over restored in 1847 by the irrepressible William Butterfield. The scale of the interior is amazing - particularly in the tower crossing arches which support the enormous spire. They are an obvious insertion into an earlier structure. The best furnishing at Ash is the eighteenth century font which stands on an inscribed base. For the visitor interested in memorials, Ash ahs more than most ranging from the fourteenth century effigy of a knight to two excellent alabaster memorials to Sir Thomas Harfleet (d 1612) and Christopher Toldervy (d 1618). Mrs Toldervy appears twice in the church for she accompanies her husband on his memorial and may also be seen as a `weeper` on her parents` memorial! On that she is one of two survivors of what was once a group of seven daughters - all her weeping brothers have long since disappeared.

 

www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Ash+2

 

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ASH

LIES adjoining to the last-described parish of Staple northward. It is written in Domesday, Ece, and in other antient records, Aisse, and is usually called Ash, near Sandwich, to distinguish it from Ash, near Wrotham.

 

The parish of Ash is very large, extending over a variety of soil and country, of hill, dale, and marsh lands, near four miles across each way, and containing more than six thousand acres of land, of which about one half is marsh, the river Stour being its northern bounday, where it is very wet and unwholesone, but the southern or upland part of the parish is very dary, pleasant and healthy. The soil in general is fertile, and lets on an average at about one pound an acre; notwithstanding, there is a part of it about Ash-street and Gilton town, where it is a deep sand. The village of Ash, commonly called Ash-street, situated in this part of it, on high ground, mostly on the western declivity of a hill, having the church on the brow of it, is built on each side of the road from Canterbury to Sandwich, and contains about fifty houses. On the south side of this road, about half a mile westward, is a Roman burial ground, of which further mention will be taken hereaster, and adjoining to it the hamlet of Gilton town, formerly written Guildanton, in which is Gilton parsonage, a neat stuccoed house, lately inhabited by Mr. Robert Legrand, and now by Mrs. Becker. In the valley southward stands Mote farm, alias Brooke house, formerly the habitation of the Stoughtons, then of the Ptoroude's and now the property of Edward Solly, esq. of London.

 

There are dispersed throughout this large parish many small hamlets and farms, which have been formerly of more consequence, from the respective owners and in habitants of them, all which, excepting East and New Street, and Great Pedding, (the latter of which was the antient residence of the family of solly, who lie buried in Ash church-yard, and bore for their arms, Vert, a chevron, per pale, or, and gules, between three soles naiant, argent, and being sold by one of them to dean Lynch, is now in the possession of lady Lynch, the widow of Sir William Lynch, K. B.) are situated in the northern part of the parish, and contain together about two hundred and fifty houses, among them is Hoden, formerly the residence of the family of St. Nicholas; Paramour-street, which for many years was the residence of those of that name, and Brook-street, in which is Brook-house, the residence of the Brooke's, one of whom John Brooke, esq. in queen Elizabeth's reign, resided here, and bore for his arms, Per bend, vert and sable, two eagles, counterchanged.

 

William, lord Latimer, anno 38 Edward III. obtained a market to be held at Ash, on a Thursday; and a fair yearly on Lady-day, and the two following ones. A fair is now held in Ash-street on Lady and Michaelmas days yearly.

 

In 1473 there was a lazar house for the infirm of the leprosy, at Eche, near Sandwich.

 

¶The manor of Wingham claims paramount over this parish, subordinate to which there were several manors in it, held of the archbishop, to whom that manor belonged, the mansions of which, being inhabited by families of reputation and of good rank in life, made this parish of much greater account than it has been for many years past, the mansions of them having been converted for a length of time into farmhouses to the lands to which they belong.

 

f this manor, (viz. Wingham) William de Acris holds one suling in Fletes, and there he has in demesne one carucate and four villeins, and one knight with one carucate, and one fisbery, with a saltpit of thirty pence. The whole is worth forty shillings.

 

This district or manor was granted by archbishop Lanfranc, soon after this, to one Osberne, (fn. 7) of whom I find no further mention, nor of this place, till king Henry III.'s reign, when it seems to have been separated into two manors, one of which, now known by the name of the manor of Gurson Fleet, though till of late time by that of Fleet only, was held afterwards of the archbishop by knight's service, by the family of Sandwich, and afterwards by the Veres, earls of Oxford, one of whom, Robert de Vere, earl of Oxford, who died anno 3 Edward III. was found by the escheat-rolls of that year, to have died possessed of this manor of Fleet, which continued in his descendants down to John de Vere, earl of Oxford, who for his attachment to the house of Lancaster, was attainted in the first year of king Edward IV. upon which this manor came into the hands of the crown, and was granted the next year to Richard, duke of Gloucester, the king's brother, with whom it staid after his succession to the crown, as king Richard III. on whose death, and the accession of king Henry VII. this manor returned to the possession of John, earl of Oxford, who had been attainted, but was by parliament anno I Henry VII. restored in blood, titles and possessions. After which this manor continued in his name and family till about the middle of queen Elizabeth's reign, when Edward Vere, earl of Oxford, alienated it to Hammond, in whose descendants it continued till one of them, in the middle of king Charles II.'s reign, sold it to Thomas Turner, D. D. who died possessed of it in 1672, and in his name and descendants it continued till the year 1748, when it was sold to John Lynch, D. D. dean of Canterbury, whose son Sir William Lynch, K. B. died possessed of it in 1785, and by his will devised it, with the rest of his estates, to his widow lady Lynch, who is the present possessor of it. A court baron is held for this manor.

 

Archbishop Lanfranc, on his founding the priory of St. Gregory, in the reign of the Conqueror, gave to it the tithe of the manor of Fleet; which gift was confirmed by archbishop Hubert in Richard I.'s reign. This portion of tithes, which arose principally from Gurson Fleet manor, remained with the priory at its dissolution, and is now part of Goldston parsonage, parcel of the see of Canterbury, of which further mention has been made before.

 

The other part of the district of Fleet was called, to distinguish it, and from the possessors of it, the manor of Nevills Fleet, though now known by the name of Fleet only, is situated between Gurson and Richborough, adjoining to the former. This manor was held in king John's reign of the archbishop, by knight's service, by Thomas Pincerna, so called probably from his office of chief butler to that prince, whence his successors assumed the name of Butler, or Boteler. His descendant was Robert le Boteler, who possessed this manor in king Ed ward I.'s reign, and from their possession of it, this manor acquired for some time the name of Butlers Fleet; but in the 20th year of king Edward III. William, lord Latimer of Corbie, appears to have been in the possession of it, and from him it acquired the name of Latimers Fleet. He bore for his arms, Gules, a cross flory, or. After having had summons to parliament, (fn. 8) he died in the begening of king Richard II.'s reign, leaving Elizabeth his sole daughter and heir, married to John, lord Nevill, of Raby, whose son John bore the title of lord Latimer, and was summoned to parliament as lord Latimer, till the 9th year of king Henry VI. in which he died, so that the greatest part of his inheritance, among which was this manor, came by an entail made, to Ralph, lord Nevill, and first earl of Westmoreland, his eldest, but half brother, to whom he had sold, after his life, the barony of Latimer, and he, by seoffment, vested it, with this manor and much of the inheritance above-mentioned, in his younger son Sir George Nevill, who was accordingly summoned to parliament as lord Latimer, anno 10 Henry VI. and his grandson Richard, lord Latimer, in the next regin of Edward IV. alienated this manor, which from their length of possession of it, had acquired the name of Nevill's Fleet, to Sir James Cromer, and his son Sir William Cromer, in the 11th year of king Henry VII, sold it to John Isaak, who passed it away to Kendall, and he, in the beginning of king Henry VIII.'s reign, sold it to Sir John Fogge, of Repton, in Ashford, who died possessed of it in 1533, and his son, of the same name, before the end of it, passed it away to Mr. Thomas Rolfe, and he sold it, within a few years afterwards, to Stephen Hougham, gent. of this parish, who by his will in 1555, devised it to his youngest son Rich. Hougham, of Eastry, from one of whose descendants it was alienated to Sir Adam Spracklin, who sold it to one of the family of Septvans, alias Harflete, in which name it continued till within a few years after the death of king Charles I. when by a female heir Elizabeth it went in marriage to Thomas Kitchell, esq. in whose heirs it continued till it was at length, about the year 1720, alienated by one of them to Mr. Thomas Bambridge, warden of the Fleet prison, upon whose death it became vested in his heirs-at-law, Mr. James Bambridge, of the Temple, attorney at-law, and Thomas Bambridge, and they divided this estate, and that part of it allotted to the latter was soon afterwards alienated by him to Mr. Peter Moulson, of London, whose only daughter and heir carried it in marriage to Mr. Geo. Vaughan, of London, and he and the assignees of Mr. James Bambridge last mentioned, have lately joined in the conveyance of the whole fee of this manor to Mr. Joseph Solly, gent. of Sandwich, the present owner of it. There is not any court held for this manor.

 

In this district, and within this manor of Fleet lastmentioned, there was formerly a chapel of cose to the church of Ash, as that was to the church of Wingham, to which college, on its foundation by archbishop Peckham in 1286, the tithes, rents, obventions, &c of this chapel and district was granted by him, for the support in common of the provost and canons of it, with whom it remained till the suppression of it, anno I king Edward VI. The tithes, arising from this manor of Fleet, and the hamlet of Richborough, are now a part of the rectory of Ash, and of that particular part of it called Gilton parsonage, parcel of the possessions of the see of Canterbury, of which further mention will be made hereafter. There have not been any remains left of it for a long time part.

 

Richborough is a hamlet and district of land, in the south-east part of this parish, rendered famous from the Roman fort and town built there, and more so formerly, from the port or haven close adjoining to it.

 

It was in general called by the Romans by the plural name of Rutupiæ; for it must be observed that the æstuary, which at that time separated the Isle of Thanet from the main land of Kent, and was the general passage for shipping,had at each mouth of it, towards the sea, a fort and haven, called jointly Rutupiæ. That at the northern part and of it being now called Reculver, and that at the eastern, being the principal one, this of Richborough.

 

The name of it is variously spelt in different authors. By Ptolemy it is written [Patapiaia (?)] urbem; by Tacitus, according to the best reading, Portus, Rutupensis; by Antonine, in his Itinerary, Ritupas, and Ritupis Portum; by Ammianus, Ritupiæ statio; afterwards by the Saxons, Reptacester, and now Richborough.

 

The haven, or Portus Rutupinus, or Richborough, was very eminent in the time of the Romans, and much celebrated in antient history, being a safe and commodious harbour, stationem ex adverso tranquillam, as Ammianus calls it, situated at the entrance of the passage towards then Thamas, and becoming the general place of setting sail from Britain to the continent, and where the Roman fleets arrived, and so large and extensive was the bay of it, that it is supposed to have extended far beyond Sandwich on the one side, almost to Ramsgate cliffs on the other, near five miles in width, covering the whole of that flat of land on which Stonar and Sandwich were afterwards built, and extending from thence up the æstuary between the Isle of Thanet and the main land. So that Antonine might well name it the Port, in his Itinerary, [Kat exochin], from there being no other of like consequence, and from this circumstance the shore for some distance on each side acquired the general name of Littus Rutupinum, the Rutupian shore. (fn. 9) Some have contended that Julius Cæsar landed at Richborough, in his expeditions into Britain; but this opinion is refuted by Dr. Hasley in Phil, Trans. No. 193, who plainly proves his place of landing to have been in the Downs. The fort of Richborough, from the similarity of the remains of it to those of Reculver, seems to have been built about the same time, and by the same emperer, Serveris, about the year 205. It stands on the high hill, close to a deep precipice eastward, at the soot of which was the haven. In this fortress, so peculiarly strengthened by its situation, the Romans had afterwards a stationary garrison, and here they had likewise a pharos, of watch tower, the like as at Reculver and other places on this coast, as well to guide the shipping into the haven, as to give notice of the approach of enemies. It is by most supposed that there was, in the time of the Romans, near the fort, in like manner as at Reculver, a city or town, on the decline of the hill, south-westward from it, according to custom, at which a colony was settled by them. Prolemy, in his geography, reckons the city Rutpia as one of the three principal cities of Kent. (fn. 10) Orosius. and Bede too, expressly mention it as such; but when the haven decayed, and there was no longer a traffic and resort to this place, the town decayed likewise, and there have not been, for many ages since, any remains whatever of it left; though quantities of coins and Roman antiquities have been sound on the spot where it is supposed to have once stood.

 

During the latter part of the Roman empire, when the Saxons prevented all trade by sea, and insefted these coasts by frequent robberies, the second Roman legion, called Augusta, and likewise Britannica, which had been brought out of Germany by the emperor Claudius, and had resided for many years at the Isca Silurum, in Wales, was removed and stationed here, under a president or commander, præpositus, of its own, who was subordinate to the count of the Saxon shore, and continued so till the final departure of the Romans from Britain, in the year 410, when this fortress was left in the hands of the Britons, who were afterwards dispossessed of it by the Saxons, during whose time the harbour seems to have began to decay and to swerve up, the sea by degrees entirely deserting it at this place, but still leaving one large and commodious at Sandwich, which in process of time became the usual resort for shipping, and arose a flourishing harbour in its stead, as plainly appears by the histories of those times, by all of which, both the royal Saxon fleets, as well as those of the Danes, are said to sail for the port of Sandwich, and there to lie at different times; (fn. 11) and no further mention is made by any of them of this of Rutupiæ, Reptachester, or Richborough; so that the port being thus destroyed, the town became neglected and desolate, and with the castle sunk into a heap of ruins. Leland's description of it in king Henry VIII.'s reign, is very accurate, and gives an exceeding good idea of the progressive state of its decay to that time. He says, "Ratesburg otherwyse Richeboro was, of ever the ryver of Sture dyd turn his botom or old canale, withyn the Isle of the Thanet, and by Iykelyhod the mayn se came to the very foote of the castel. The mayn se ys now of yt a myle by reason of wose, that has there swollen up. The scite of the town or castel ys wonderful fair apon an hille. The walles the wich remayn ther yet be in cumpase almost as much as the tower of London. They have bene very hye thykke stronge and wel embateled. The mater of them is flynt mervelus and long brykes both white and redde after the Britons fascion. The sement was made of se sand and smaul pible. Ther is a great lykelyhod that the goodly hil abowte the castel and especially to Sandwich ward hath bene wel inhabited. Corne groweth on the hille yn bene mervelous plenty and yn going to plowgh ther hath owt of mynde fownd and now is mo antiquities of Romayne money than yn any place els of England surely reason speketh that this should be Rutupinum. For byside that the name sumwhat toucheth, the very near passage fro Cales Clyves or Cales was to Ratesburgh and now is to Sandwich, the which is about a myle of; though now Sandwich be not celebrated by cawse of Goodwine sandes and the decay of the haven. Ther is a good flyte shot of fro Ratesburg toward Sandwich a great dyke caste in a rownd cumpas as yt had bene for sens of menne of warre. The cumpase of the grownd withyn is not much above an acre and yt is very holo by casting up the yerth. They cawle the place there Lytleborough. Withyn the castel is a lytle paroche chirch of St. Augustine and an heremitage. I had antiquities of the heremite the which is an industrious man. Not far fro the hermitage is a cave wher men have sowt and digged for treasure. I saw it by candel withyn, and ther were conys. Yt was so straite that I had no mynd to crepe far yn. In the north side of the castel ys a hedde yn the walle, now fore defaced with wether. They call it queen Bertha hedde. Nere to that place hard by the wal was a pot of Romayne mony sownd."

 

The ruins of this antient castle stand upon the point of a hill or promontory, about a mile north-west from Sandwich, overlooking on each side, excepting towards the west, a great flat which appears by the lowness of it, and the banks of beach still shewing themselves in different places, to have been all once covered by the sea. The east side of this hill is great part of it so high and perpendicular from the flat at the foot of it, where the river Stour now runs, that ships with the greatest burthen might have lain close to it, and there are no signs of any wall having been there; but at the north end, where the ground rises into a natural terrace, so as to render one necessary, there is about 190 feet of wall left. Those on the other three sides are for the most part standing, and much more entire than could be expected, considering the number of years since they were built, and the most so of any in the kingdom, except Silchester. It is in shape an oblong square, containing within it a space of somewhat less than five acres. They are in general about ten feet high within, but their broken tops shew them to have been still higher. The north wall, on the outside, is about twice as high as it is within, or the other two, having been carried up from the very bottom of the hill, and it seems to have been somewhat longer than it is at present, by some pieces of it sallen down at the east end. The walls are about eleven feet thick. In the middle of the west side is the aperture of an entrance, which probably led to the city or town, and on the north side is another, being an entrance obliquely into the castle. Near the middle of the area are the ruins of some walls, full of bushes and briars, which seem as if some one had dug under ground among them, probably where once stood the prætorium of the Roman general, and where a church or chapel was afterwards erected, dedicated to St. Augustine, and taken notice of by Leland as such in his time. It appears to have been a chapel of ease to the church of Ash, for the few remaining inhabitants of this district, and is mentioned as such in the grant of the rectory of that church, anno 3 Edward VI. at which time it appears to have existed. About a furlong to the south, in a ploughed field, is a large circular work, with a hollow in the middle, the banks of unequal heights, which is supposed to have been an amphitheatre, built of turf, for the use of the garrison, the different heights of the banks having been occasioned by cultivation, and the usual decay, which must have happened from so great a length of time. These stations of the Romans, of which Richborough was one, were strong fortifications, for the most part of no great compass or extent, wherein were barracks for the loding of the soldiers, who had their usual winter quarters in them. Adjoining, or at no great distance from them, there were usually other, buildings forming a town; and such a one was here at Richborough, as has been already mentioned before, to which the station or fort was in the nature of a citadel, where the soldiers kept garrison. To this Tacitus seems to allude, when he says, "the works that in time of peace had been built, like a free town, not far from the camp, were destroyed, left they should be of any service to the enemy." (fn. 12) Which in great measure accounts for there being no kind of trace or remains left, to point out where this town once stood, which had not only the Romans, according to the above observation, but the Saxons and Danes afterwards, to carry forward at different æras the total destruction of it.

 

The burial ground for this Roman colony and station of Richborough, appears to have been on the hill at the end of Gilton town, in this parish, about two miles south-west from the castle, and the many graves which have been continually dug up there, in different parts of it, shew it to have been of general use for that purpose for several ages.

 

The scite of the castle at Richborough was part of the antient inheritance of the family of the Veres, earls of Oxford, from which it was alienated in queen Elizabeth's reign to Gaunt; after which it passed, in like manner as Wingham Barton before-described, to Thurbarne, and thence by marriage to Rivett, who sold it to Farrer, from whom it was alienated to Peter Fector, esq. of Dover, the present possessor of it. In the deed of conveyance it is thus described: And also all those the walls and ruins of the antient castle of Rutupium, now known by the name of Richborough castle, with the scite of the antient port and city of Rutupinum, being on and near the lands before-mentioned. About the walls of Richborough grows Fæniculum valgare, common fennel, in great plenty.

 

It may be learned from the second iter of Antonine's Itinerary, that there was once a Roman road, or highway from Canterbury to the port of Richborough, in which iter the two laft stations are, from Durovernum, Canterbury, to Richborough, ad portum Rutupis, xii miles; in which distance all the different copies of the Itinerary agree. Some parts of this road can be tracted at places at this time with certainty; and by the Roman burial-ground, usually placed near the side of a high road, at Gilton town, and several other Roman vestigia thereabouts, it may well be supposed to have led from Canterbury through that place to Richborough, and there is at this time from Goldston, in Ash, across the low-grounds to it, a road much harder and broader than usual for the apparent use of it, which might perhaps be some part of it.

 

Charities.

A person unknown gave four acres and an half of land, in Chapman-street, of the annual produce of 5l. towards the church assessments.

 

Thomas St. Nicholas, esq. of this parish, by deed about the year 1626, gave an annuity of 11. 5s. to be paid from his estate of Hoden, now belonging to the heirs of Nathaniel Elgar, esq. to be distributed yearly, 10s. to the repairing and keeping clean the Toldervey monument in this church, and 15s. on Christmas-day to the poor.

 

John Proude, the elder, of Ash, yeoman, by his will in 1626, ordered that his executor should erect upon his land adjoining to the church-yard, a house, which should be disposed of in future by the churchwardens and overseers, for a school-house, and for a storehouse, to lay in provision for the church and poor. This house is now let at 1l. per annum, and the produce applied to the use of the poor.

 

Richard Camden, in 1642, gave by will forty perches of land, for the use of the poor, and of the annual produce of 15s. now vested in the minister and churchwardens.

 

Gervas Cartwright, esq. and his two sisters, in 1710 and 1721, gave by deed an estate, now of the yearly value of 50l. for teaching fifty poor children to read, write, &c. vested in the minister, churchwardens, and other trustees.

 

The above two sisters, Eleanor and Anne Cartwright, gave besides 100l. for beautifying the chancel, and for providing two large pieces of plate for the communion service; and Mrs. Susan Robetts added two other pieces of plate for the same purpose.

 

There is a large and commodious workhouse lately built, for the use of the poor, to discharge the expence of which, 100l. is taken yearly out of the poor's rate, till the whole is discharged. In 1604, the charges of the poor were 29l. 15s. 11d. In 1779. 1000l.

 

There is a charity school for boys and girls, who are educated, but not cloathed.

 

The poor constantly relieved are about seventy-five, casually fifty-five.

 

This parish is within the ecclesiastical jurisdiction of the dioceseof Canterbury, and deanry of Bridge.

 

The church, which is dedicated to St. Nicholas, is a handsome building, of the form of a cross, consisting of two isles and two chancels, and a cross sept, having a tall spire steeple in the middle, in which are eight bells and a clock. It is very neat and handsome in the inside. In the high or south chancel is a monument for the Roberts's, arms, Argent, three pheons, sable, on a chief of the second, a greybound current of the first; another for the Cartwrights, arms, Or, a fess embattled, between three catherine wheels, sable. In the north wall is a monument for one of the family of Leverick, with his effigies, in armour, lying cross-legged on it; and in the same wall, westward, is another like monument for Sir John Goshall, with his effigies on it, in like manner, and in a hollow underneath, the effigies of his wife, in her head-dress, and wimple under her chin. A gravestone, with an inscription, and figure of a woman with a remarkable high high-dress, the middle part like a horseshoe inverted, for Jane Keriell, daughter of Roger Clitherow. A stone for Benjamin Longley, LL. B. minister of Ash twenty-nine years, vicar of Eynsford and Tonge, obt. 1783. A monument for William Brett, esq. and Frances his wife. The north chancel, dedicated to St. Nicholas, belongs to the manor of Molland. Against the north wall is a tomb, having on it the effigies of a man and woman, lying at full length, the former in armour, and sword by his side, but his head bare, a collar of SS about his neck, both seemingly under the middle age, but neither arms nor inscription, but it was for one of the family of Harflete, alias Septvans; and there are monuments and several memorials and brasses likewise for that family. A memorial for Thomas Singleton, M. D. of Molland, obt. 1710. One for John Brooke, of Brookestreet, obt. 1582, s. p. arms, Per bend, two eagles.—Several memorials for the Pekes, of Hills-court, and for Masters, of Goldstone. A monument for Christopher Toldervy, of Chartham, obt. 1618. A memorial for Daniel Hole, who, as well as his ancestors, had lived upwards of one hundred years at Goshall, as occupiers of it. In the north cross, which was called the chapel of St. Thomas the Martyr, was buried the family of St. Nicholas. The brass plates of whom, with their arms, are still to be seen. A tablet for Whittingham Wood, gent. obt. 1656. In the south cross, a monument for Richard Hougham, gent. of Weddington, and Elizabeth his wife, daughter of Edward Sanders, gent. of Norborne. An elegant monument for Mary, wife of Henry Lowman, esq. of Dortnued, in Germany. She died in 1737, and he died in 1743. And for lieutenant colonel Christopher Ernest Kien, obt. 1744, and Jane his wife, their sole daughter and heir, obt. 1762, and for Evert George Cousemaker, esq. obt. 1763, all buried in a vault underneath, arms, Or, on a mount vert, a naked man, bolding a branch in his hand, proper, impaling per bend sinister, argent and gules, a knight armed on borjeback, holding a tilting spear erect, the point downwards, all counterchanged. On the font is inscribed, Robert Minchard, arms, A crescent, between the points of it a mullet. Several of the Harfletes lie buried in the church-yard, near the porch, but their tombs are gone. On each side of the porch are two compartments of stone work, which were once ornamented with brasses, most probably in remembrance of the Harfleets, buried near them. At the corner of the church-yard are two old tombs, supposed for the family of Alday.

 

In the windows of the church were formerly several coats of arms, and among others, of Septvans, alias Harflete, Notbeame, who married Constance, widow of John Septvans; Brooke, Ellis, Clitherow, Oldcastle, Keriell, and Hougham; and the figures of St. Nicholas, Keriell, and Hougham, kneeling, in their respective surcoats of arms, but there is not any painted glass left in any part of the church or chancels.

 

John Septvans, about king Henry VII.'s reign, founded a chantry, called the chantry of the upper Hall, as appears by the will of Katherine Martin, of Faversham, sometime his wife, in 1497. There was a chantry of our blessed Lady, and another of St. Stephen likewise, in it; both suppressed in the 1st year of king Edward VI. when the former of them was returned to be of the clear yearly certified value of 15l. 11s. 1½d. (fn. 13)

 

The church of Ash was antiently a chapel of east to that of Wingham, and was, on the foundation of the college there in 1286, separated from it, and made a distinct parish church of itself, and then given to the college, with the chapels likewise of Overland and Fleet, in this parish, appurtenant to this church; which becoming thus appropriated to the college, continued with it till the suppression of it in king Edward VI.'s reign, when this part of the rectory or parsonage appropriate, called Overland parsonage, with the advowson of the church, came, with the rest of the possessions of the college, into the hands of the crown, where the advowson of the vicarage, or perpetual curacy of it did not remain long, for in the year 1558, queen Mary granted it, among others, to the archbishop. But the above-mentioned part of the rectory, or parsonage appropriate of Ash, with those chapels, remained in the crown, till queen Elizabeth, in her 3d year, granted it in exchange to archbishop Parker, who was before possessed of that part called Goldston parsonage, parcel of the late dissolved priory of St. Gregory, by grant from king Henry VIII. so that now this parish is divided into two distinct parsonages, viz. of Overland and of Goldston, which are demised on separate beneficial leases by the archbishop, the former to the heirs of Parker, and the latter, called Gilton parsonage, from the house and barns of it being situated in that hamlet, to George Gipps, esq. M. P. for Canterbury. The patronage of the perpetual curacy remains parcel of the possessions of the see of Canterbury.

 

¶At the time this church was appropriated to the college of Wingham, a vicarage was endowed in it, which after the suppression of the college came to be esteemed as a perpetual curacy. It is not valued in the king's books. The antient stipend paid by the provost, &c. to the curate being 16l. 13s. 4d. was in 1660, augmented by archbishop Juxon with the addition of 33l. 6s. 8d. per annum; and it was afterwards further augmented by archbishop Sheldon, anno 28 Charles II. with twenty pounds per annum more, the whole to be paid by the several lessees of these parsonages. Which sum of seventy pounds is now the clear yearly certified value of it. In 1588 here were communicants five hundred; in 1640, eight hundred and fifty. So far as appears by the registers, the increase of births in this parish is almost double to what they were two hundred years ago.

 

www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-kent/vol9/pp191-224

The Watcher in the woods

 

Pursuing the Posh

 

A Cat Burglar Saga

 

From the files of Chatwick University Criminology Department.

 

C.B. Case Study 13 , File B

 

Subset Source: Journal

 

Subject “Harley Q” -- Real name?

 

ORIGINATION STORY:

flic.kr/p/BcnW2J

 

Synopsis:

 

The young lady was approaching sweet sixteen if I estimated accurately. She was clad in a tailored dress of bronze velvet that shone richly over her lithe figure. Her long blonde hair tied in back, flickered like a horses’’ tail. She had come bounding from a ladies powder chamber, one of several located at either end of the grand ballroom that sat off the formal dining rooms.

 

I fell in step behind her, watching as her splendid jewelry bounced merrily as she pranced along like some untried colt, sorry filly. Her pearls were lovely things, a matched set, double strands all, real diamond clasps, shone gleaming with a pristine whiteness that reminded me of fresh snow.

 

The pearls were a sweet lure, of that there was no doubt; but apologies if I am prattling n a bit about them, for after all, what is a jewel thief who fails to notice a ladies jewels? A starving bugger, that’s who.

Now I have found out during my times here on the earth that I can make quite a profit from burgling the safes of wealthy ladies whilst they slept peacefully within their fancy chambres. But I had started out walking my morally tainted chosen path by picking the pockets of the unwary along the way. It was my fate to eventually discover the delightfully chilling sensation that was experienced when lifting the very jewels displayed by unsuspecting female targets. And this was still my guilty pleasure, to the point that I would still take that far riskier venture of lifting worn jewelry whenever opportunity arose, which was quite often in my travelled circles.

 

So, that is why I habitually started to follow this meandering youth, only because of her jewels, which I found to be quite vexing. Especially her earrings, a dangling set held to her ears by genuine diamond studded hinge clasps. I had seldom attempted sets of worn earrings, not for the lack of desire, and with this one’s head just reaching me chest, it was a very tempting prospect to try and pluck em both off just to see?

 

Fortunately, for her (not me), this pretty miss was a bit too young for my standards to make any attempt to lift from her any of the swinging pearls, earrings or otherwise. I do prefer my marks to be a bit older, a bit wiser, a bit more of a challenge to my abilities, thank you very much! Besides, I had already had my eye on a few other, challenging female prospects wearing some rather nice pieces in their own right. Including one sapphire laden Lass in a silky frock that had greatly provoked my attentiveness.

 

So I just followed this young one while she skirted the ballroom and entered a dining area. There she rejoined, what were quite obviously, her parents.

 

There were, it appeared, just the three of them, no older jewel laden siblings in sight. But, speaking of appearances, the Mother certainly presented a rather nice one, and so I stopped to drink it all in.

 

The mother/wife was fluidly clad in an all so elegant purple satin number, poured rather snugly along her still quite lovely figure. Said figure had been made even more eye catching (especially for me) by being emblazon with a matching set of jewels, all set with small 1 caret white diamonds, encircling her neck, wrists and fingers with energetic ripples of fiery colour.

 

She was with her husband, a distinguished looking gent in tails who may have passed as a Barrister, for which all I knew he was. Now Sandwiched in between was their charming young daughter, who was happily chatting away without a care in the world. Her pristine pearls still dangling, mocking me it would seem, to just make the one exception and attempt to take them home with me. I just smiled to wickedly to myself, maybe someday I would I promised them, once their young mistress had grown up a bit, then we would see who was mocking whom from the wickets!

 

But I did not dwell too long on such thought’s , or on the pretty family either, for, like I have revealed, I had other fish frying, and only am mentioning this particular incident because of what would occur in two days hence. So after a bit I turned and began wandering off.

 

But then, speaking of starving jewel thieves, I observed at the precise moment I turned away, a most stunning red head wearing a long black gown that fluttered about, here and there, in a most alluring fashion. She was making a beeline towards the very same powder chamber I had just passed. She was obviously in a rush to reach it, and once I laid my eyes on the pearls she was wearing, I moved towards her in an equally purposeful stride. I intercepted her, letting her bump against me, as I stepped on the hem of her long gown. She stopped abruptly, and I momentarily placed an arm around her smooth waist, steadying her as I apologized and begged the ladies pardon for my clumsiness.

 

She begrudgingly accepted my apologies, and I watched as she scurried off, having already pocketed the pearled bracelet I had slipped from her red satin gloved wrist, and made my own path. I smirked to myself that the bracelet was some consolation for not having an unscrupulous go for the pearls that had hung around the young daughter’s throat, hung from her ears, and encircled one petite wrist, as I stole one last look back towards the pretty families’ table.

 

I walked away, turning my attentions back to relocating a certain lady elegantly wearing a silky frock, displaying those magnificent sapphires. I was watching, waiting for her to leave, in order to follow to her next stop, eventually hoping to be led to her last, having decided to acquire the fair damsel’s collection of jewels enmasse!

 

***** Two productive evenings later ****************

 

It was at a wedding reception the 2 evenings later that I again, quite un-expectantly, spied the Barrister and his entourage.

 

I had been having a delightful chat with the newly minted wife of the titled Scion of a rather old family. I had won the sweepstakes of receiving a dance with the charming Miss. But alas my chat was cut short as she was whisked away to dance with yet another admirer. I watched as she swept off, my hand reaching into me breast pocket, fingering a still warm diamond brooch. That jewel had been merrily dangling down from her satin gowns’ cleavage, over shadowed by her ample bosom. As we had danced, I had managed to work open its silvery clasp, and lift the brooch cleanly away. My hidden vest pocket also contained at the time a rather pretty ring with a blue carbuncle surrounded by sparkly diamonds. Said ring had been wrapped around the finger of a rather vexing long raven haired lass. I had admired the silken dress she was wearing, and as she had happily swirled and twirled to give me a better look, I had taken the opportunity to relieve her finger of its burden. Since I was only allowing meself a couple of prospects with an affair this small, I now made my way, leisurely, contentedly, towards an exit (stage right as they say in the trades).

 

But, no sooner had I put me back to the dance floor, than whom do I spy across the room? That rather delightful miss with a long blonde ponytail, who was now dressed elegantly in cream lace, that I had spied at dinner a few evenings back. It was the very same young lady, wearing the same set of mocking white pearls, and as I discreetly draw near, I soon spied her parents.

 

The “Barrister” was dapper in crisp white shirt and tux, with a fancy gold pocket watch and fob at his waist. The daughter’s look alike mother was now smartly encased in a fitted red gown that shimmered delightfully as it swished about. She was also wearing a nice display of brite emeralds to boot.

 

This time I took closer notice of the Mothers Jeweles. Between the emeralds today and the diamonds the night before, this lady in red could be a nice meal ticket if the stars were aligned properly. And so it turned out they very happily (for me) did.

 

With a few discreet questions from some acquaintances quickly garnered for just such information, I found out where my “Barrister” and his family were spending their late evenings asleep. It so happened that they were staying in a penthouse suite 3 floors above my own modest single. So instead of leaving the reception to scout out a way to gain easy access to their rooms, I could stay and enjoy myself, already being all too familiar with the place. Which I did, later acquiring a gold jeweled bracelet from a charming maiden attired delightfully in teal satin, who had kept flaunting her jewels in me face as she told me all about her perfect self. Another jewel added for my growing collection of the evening.

 

Now, don’t ask me why I was so familiar with my hotels’ penthouse suites, being a cat burglar, the reasons should be quite clear! So when the pretty family left the reception early, around 9 pm returning to their rooms, I was able to follow them with less discretion then I usually do, but still with growing eager anticipation. Also, even more remarkably, they were in bed and asleep by 10:30 pm, which allowed me a much earlier window of opportunity than I had grown accustomed to having.

 

And so it was, that soon after the stroke of midnight, with the happy family deep in their slumbers that I, wearing my black burgling attire, climbed onto the balcony of their rooms. After jimmying open the double glass doors with my Fairborn dagger, I found myself in a small sitting room. Carefully allowing my torch to search around I spied a door on the far end. Opening it cautiously, the first thing I see are the daughters pricey pearls piled loosely on a vanity by the bed where she lay sleeping, dressed in white, looking ever so like the angel she is. I picked up the necklace of pearls, eyeing them as I watch the slumbering figure on the bed. But I passed the pretty things up, for even though I am a thief by nature, I do possess some scruples, albeit maybe a little warped! Besides, those taunting pearls had led me to the small treasure trove that was awaiting me in her Mothers’ chambers. So with a silent thanks, I replaced them upon the vanity, and move off…

 

The parents were found in the next room, soundly sleeping off their alcohol induced haze. The mother was draped over her husband, fetchingly clad in a long satin nightdress that looked almost like an evening gown. Her vulgarly large wedding diamonds flickered pleasantly from her finger as I let my torch sneak up along her shimmering figure. On the bed stand laid the “Barristers” gold watch and a rather pleasing selection of his wife’s gold “day” jewelry, but I passed the lot up, my eyes looking for the good stuff that would be snuggled inside the small room safe that I knew would be behind a false door in one side of the oak dresser ( having already discovered that fact a year previously in a different room of the same hotel)!

 

I went directly to it, and opening the cabinet door, began to use my finely attuned skills to crack it. It was a simple American lock and only took me a minute to have open. I than emptied the small collection of jewel cases ( lovely things) placing them into my small sack. I also find inside the mothers small clutch purse made expensively of red silk and rhinestones, that had been at her side all evening. Out of curiosity (why in the safe?) I placed it inside my bag with the jewels. After checking that the parents were still out cold, I closed the safe, flickering my torch around one last time, it settles upon her red gown, and its emerald rhinestone clips coming blazing into lively flame. I passed on them, and headed back out towards the door. I had almost regained it, and my freedom, when the husband let out a loud snort, and I heard rustling going on in the bed behind me. I froze and carefully looked back. Neither had woken, but the wife had turned onto her side, and her left hand was now hanging limply over the side of the bed. I watched as the diamonds set in the gold ring encircling her slender finger blazed into life (the ring was somewhat loose I keenly noticed)! Blimey, there was enough dosh in the value of that ring that would have paid for all the expenses of the Cardiff C.C. for an entire season, perhaps 2! But, Bird in the Hand, I am always telling meself, so I left the pretty thing dangling there, and finished my careful retreat. I made it out without further incident.

 

Passing the daughters room ( and her pearls again), I checked in. The young filly was still was sound asleep in her own pleasant dreams, her taunting pile of pearls still on the vanity, where they would remain. I regained the balcony and slipping over, made my way down to the window of my own room.

 

Back in my room I empty my sack, the pile of jewels flickering in a frenzy of colours. I admire the little darlings briefly before stashing them. I than pick up the purse and open it. Inside amongst the usual feminy items, I found a letter. Looking at it my heart, already beating quickly from the exhilaration of being on the prowl, skipped one beat, for it was addressed to the lady whose jewels I now possessed, and it was an address of an area I knew quite well. I thought about her address, the house she presumably shared with husband and daughter, the house which should be empty seeing its owners were sleeping just three floors above me. A house that was little over an hour away, only about ¾ of that hour by driving my Lotus. It was a house that I figuratively knew; being in the same neighborhood (relatively speaking) of a house I had reconnoitered and quite lucratively burgled the previous spring.

 

It was perfect. While the family was asleep snug in their beds here, I could reach their abode, with its jewel laden safe ( they all had jewel laden safes in that area), ½ hour to creep the place, an hour to do the job proper and I would be back in time to catch a two hour kip and be checked out and on my way before the pretty family have had breakfast. It, bears repeating, was perfect.

 

I looked at the envelope, was its contents that valuable that she felt the need to lock it up. More than mildly curious, I pulled it out and read it. It was from someone named Samuel. In no uncertain terms, he was informing the lady that for only ₤5000 sterling he would leave for the States and never bother her Daughter Claire again. I thought of the young girl asleep in the suite I had just left. What kind of Scoundrel would lure a young girl like that into his clutches with the intent of extorting her parents! For a moment I pondered this bit of information, before deciding that the opportunity was too ripe to pass up just because I felt a small twinge of compassion. Besides, if the parents could afford to cough up a cool 5 thousand, they weren’t hurting in the financial department.

 

I changed, and quickly gathered my things and headed out quietly via a back entrance. Placing my burgle kit (containing the ladies jewels) into the boot of me two seater, I fired up the lotus’s engine and was off on my little undertaking!

 

A half hour away I turned down a little used rutty road/path. Pulling over I grabbed my burgle kit and headed down to some ancient stone ruins. Checking to make sure none of my warning snares had been tripped, I entered a small stone building. Going down into one of its old, crumbling basements, I uncovered a small cubby and added the jewels to the growing collection of my recent takings.

 

Included in the collection were sets of pearls burgled from a coach stop overnight room occupied by a pair of fairly insufferable spinster sisters. Other burgled items were a rather pretty , if not vulgarly large, diamond set obtained from a naive damsel who thought hiding them under the pillow she slept on was safer than a safe, (always happy to enlighten someone upon the error of their ways that’s me), and of course the sapphires that the lass in the silky frock had been wearing 2 nights previous ( along with some rather nice sets of rubies and diamond adorned amethysts that had lain in the same safe, located above her soundly sleeping figure! ) The rest of the lot consisted of items I had “picked up” while on the prowl: a nice collection of brooches, rings, bracelets, and an eye-catching sapphire pendent hanging from a diamonded chain.

I than closed everything up, rechecked my warning snares, and headed back to my Lotus.

 

Another 30 minutes and I had reached my destination.

 

The house itself was pretty secluded, located by an intersection of two lanes. I drove its perimeter than doubling back found a pull off. I backed up and turned down and off the road hiding the small sports car in a grove of pines.

 

Already wearing some of my burglar attire, (black military trousers and sweater), I placed a hood over my head, pulled out my small kit, fastening a torch and military knife to my belt, I was off. The house appeared to be deserted, I found the servants quarters located at the back of the house over a small barn, the only cars were a small sports car in a shed, and a roadster sitting out front. A large garden surrounded by hedges lay to the west of the house, a larger Tudor, with several porches and balconies. Using the hedges as cover, I shimmed up an old tree located by a balcony, and slipping onto the balcony proper, I made my way to the door. Shimmed the latch with my Fairborn commando knife, and then entered into a side bedroom. I was looking for the master suite, and this was not it, the daughter’s by all appearances. I spied a small ornate silver box on a table, but passed it up , on the search for bigger game!

 

Turning on my torch I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. At the end was a set of double mahogany doors and this is where I set my sights. Along the hallway wall were several rather nice paintings (not copies) and I let the pool of my light flicker along them. Included in the lot was a small painting of a young fox, half asleep, eyeing something in the distance? I stood for precious seconds admiring it, and then turned my attention to the mahogany doors. They were not locked, and I cautiously, very slowly, opened one. Pay dirt! A large empty canopied bed stood in the middle of the room, a love seat to one side, a settee on the other, and directly across from the bed a large ornate sideboard with mirror. Along one side of the wall was a series of chains with different rooms labelled underneath, presumably connected to bells in those rooms. It definitely belonged to the mistress of the house, and, hopefully, her jewels.

 

I let my light flow over the room, avoiding the window and glass door that led out onto another balcony. I soon spotted the location of the safe; it was behind an old painting of a Harlequin. Said Harlequin was standing on a black and white checked tile floor, as he looked inquisitively into his own reflection from an ornate wall mirror. The painting was located on the wall between the corner and the intricately carved oak sideboard. I slid back the painting on its hinges, exposing the small safe.

 

It was exactly the same safe as their neighbors, the ones I had burgled clean in the spring. Quickly getting to work I spin the tumblers, listening intently for the correct paths of clicks. Bingo! , it opened up like a dream. Inside I found a bonanza of about a dozen small jewel cases handedly printed with the jewelers names (Cartier and Tiffany’s amongst them! ) I quickly open and empty their contents into my kit, pouring out a delightfully pricey array of colorful gems of all types and styles. Replacing the empty cartons, I rummage around, finding a small stack of gold and silver coins and a couple of bundles of notes, currency of the realm. I favorably pocket the lot.

 

Suddenly I freeze, hearing the unmistakable sounds of muffled giggling from down the corridor. Closing the safe and picture I back off and hide inside a closet, wishing I had had the foresight to have opened the balcony door to see if that had offered escape, but I had been so sure I would be alone that evening that I had let me guard slacken a bit. I hoped that whoever it was they were heading off to bed.

 

They were off to bed, problem was it was the bed in the room I was in for which they were heading. I heard the door open, and from the crack in the closet door, I saw a young couple come in, tipsy and fondling the heck out of one another. The female was obviously an older daughter of the house, a mini version of the mother and her sister. She was resplendent in a long flowing cream satin evening gown; her paramour was a beady eyed, weasely faced chap in loose fitting tux and tails. It must have been his roadster outside; the couple must have been snogging in the garden, and drinking wine, judging from the smell and the way they were acting. Again I kicked myself for not checking the grounds more thoroughly. But why hadn’t the bloody twit of a daughter been at the wedding with her family where she belonged? But a bit later I was to reason that if she had, I would have been tempted to lift a diamond bracelet, and me path may have ended there. Missing out entirely, the opportunity to burgle the contents of 2 bedroom safes, master and penthouse!

 

They headed right to the bed, (doing it on the parents bed, and old cracker that was) the lady not even taking off her long satin gloves, just falling onto the bed with her doe wide eyes gleaming, while her beady eyed lover was falling all over her. Oh god! Samuel, I heard her mummer in passion. My eyes were opened, this must be the daughter Claire, and the beady eyed bloke was the infamous Samuel. Now it made a little more sense, but not any less wicked. I watched them in a new light, my mind going a full mile a minute trying to see a way out of the situation. . “Si vous voulez faire rire Dieu , faire des plans” I muttered an old saying in French, chastising myself inwardly for taking on such a gamble rushed for time.

 

Now, I am certainly no voyeur, and my belief that some things private, are, well private! But actually, in this instance, there was no choice. I tried not to watch, but the couple’s raw, animal like lovemaking and all its trimmings were happening just feet away. I began to amuse myself by watching the flashy show put on by the daughter’s sparkling jewels and the fluidly movement of her shiny, slinking gown as they were caught in the moonlight that streamed thru the glass of the balcony door. It was the type of show that engrosses any jewel thief worth his salt (hell, any bloke worth his salt for that matter). My mind also kept going back to the letter that I had found in the red silk purse and I hoped that a way would open to cause “Mr.” Samuel some sort of grief.

 

Beady eyes comes onto her, driving her mind off everything but what he is doing, as her eyes are closed tight, his are open, looking about. I slink in a little more into the shadows, keeping his face in my view. Occasionally a white satin gloved hand appears, rings and bracelets sparkling in a frenzied flickering as her fingers grip his face. Suddenly his eyes open wide as he looks towards the painting of the Harlequin. Cripes I mutter as I look there also, for on the floor lies a diamond bracelet, the fancy bugger must have slipped out as I scurried to my hole. I prepare to bolt like a fox hiding close to where the hounds are heading (my mind went to the painting of the watchful fox in the hallway outside the bedroom).

 

But beady eyes says nothing..

 

He finished the job, with her squealing like a piglet, before she slumps back exhaustedly onto the bed. Her eyes were closed, her breathing became heavier as she lost all drink induced conscious. I watched as her lover’s half closed eye stayed focused on the bracelet, as he listened to her breathing become heavier. When he was sure she was asleep he slipped off and heading to the vanity scooped up the bracelet and placed it inside a pocket of his tux’s vest. He then crawls back next to her, gently fingering her diamond rings before (finally) joining her into heavy, wine induced sleep alongside.

 

It seemed like hours, but the whole episode, by me watch, lasted only a ¾ of hour, but it was a precious time I could ill afford to have lost atoll.

 

I was running late, but knew what I had to do next. Walking over to the pair I watched them for a few seconds, plotting my next course of action. Her jewels were flickering nicely in the moon’s light.

 

I reached down an lifting ever so gently one still gloved lifeless feminine hand, I slipped off a couple of sparkly rings from satin clad fingers, and unfastened a tight cuff bracelet emblazon with diamonds from around her wrist. Then I lifted the other hand, easily gliding off another brace of glistening rings from her fingers, and a second diamonded bracelet from her limp wrist. Than lifting her necklace of diamonds, I pulled it gently around admiring the way they rippled fire along her throat, till its jeweled clasp was exposed. Then I slowly pry open the jeweled clasp, and slipped the necklace away, watching it sway in the moonlight like a glistening snake. They were both still out cold, It wasn’t really very much of a challenge, not that I was complaining mind you.

 

I happily pocketed the lot, except for a cheaper ring. I swapped that ring for the diamond bracelet in Samuel’s vest pocket, hoping that the outcome would prove interesting. In the process of placing the ring in the Sammy boy’s vest, I came across his fat pocketbook, which I gladly lifted and added to the collection in my own now bulging pocket.

 

I then left the room, leaving quietly by stepping upon the soles of my feet. As I pass the small painting of the watching fox, I pull it off and stick it into my kit, a bonus for me extra worries. I than slip back through the daughter’s bedroom, its door now slightly ajar.

 

In a corner of the room lay the small silvery jewelry case I had passed up earlier thinking it was the younger daughters. But, I hesitated, wondering to which daughter the room belonged, for someone had slightly opened the door for a reason? I shook my head, no chances. But, wait a minute, I grinned as my thoughts grew ever more pleasing. I walked over to the small table that held the ornate silver jewel case (casket was what my Gram had called hers), above it was a small picture of the family daughters in full riding regalia, the older daughter, Claire, had a small pin of a fox in her shiny white satin caveat.

 

I bent down and opening the small case. There on top was the fox pin, glittering with brownish Sardonyx gemstones and bright red ruby eyes. I plucked it up and added it to my sparkling collection. Then I admired the shimmery collection of gold and pearled jewelry (no lowly silver for this lass). Selecting the better ones I placed them with the fox pin and the Mothers jewels in my kit, then scooping out the rest, I placed them in unceremoniously in a side pocket.

 

I then went back out the balcony and down the tree. I headed over to the roadster out front and taking out a few of the lesser jewels I had scooped into me pocket, and I began placing them in and underneath the passenger seat of the vehicle.

 

Finished I admired my handiwork, then looking leisurely around, let out a deep sigh of absolute relief, mixed with exquisite feelings of pleasure of an adventuer winningly pulled off, before melting off into the shadows of the woods. I soon reached my lotus, gunned the engine to life, and then proceeded to slowly drive off without headlights until I reach the main road.

 

I once again stopped at my hidden cubby and deposited my burglar’s kit and purloined jewels with the rest of my stash, reset my snares, and headed quickly back to the hotel.

 

I reached my destination just at cock crow, went upstairs and finished packing. It was later than I had anticipated, so no kip for the sinners. I just loaded my luggage into the boot of the two seater, checked my key in at the desk, settled my bill, and headed for a quick breakfast.

 

But I wasn’t quick enough, for about halfway through my breakfast The “Barrister” and his family came down to have the same. They appeared to be calm, so I knew that my activities earlier that morning had not been exposed yet.

 

I pushed aside my almost finished plate and standing, walked past them, allowing the daughter, who was clad in a silky skirt and matching satiny top, and wearing those taunting white pearls of hers, to bump into me as she pranced to their table. Steady girl I says, catching her as I eye for the last time her dangling jewelry. So sorry sir, she replied apologetically. I complimented her parents on their charming daughter. The father, in a formal suit and tie, grunts his thanks. The mother, in a scintillatingly swishing long red skirt, and heavy cream silk blouse, blushes prettily. I look over her plentiful “everyday” jewelry as I take their leave. What she was wearing for a normal day of activates was expensive enough to catch any thief’s desire to acquire.

 

As I walked away, a vision of her walking the streets, dressed as she was, back in Dickens London formed in my thoughts. She attracted the notice of a small street urchin, his devious heart pounding as he left huis vigil from the wall he had been leaning against too closely follow her as she swished by. Catching up to her in the hopes of brushing against her and with a sorry ma’am, walk away with some of it.

 

This was actually from a memory of mine ( long after Dickens time though) about an incident I had witnessed while working at my old uncles “eel and mash” shop.

 

A finely decked out young couple (the long haired lady wearing pearls as it so happened) had been inside the shop and finishing their meal, had walked out across the street. A street youth had been hanging out by the shop and had followed them across the street close on their heels. They all turned a corner, so I never knew what had happened, if anything ( which I sincerely doubted)! But that image had plagued many an unsettling adolescent dream with images of finely dressed ladies bending down to a begging young grimy faced lad, well ringed fingers and bracelets jangling as a coin was offered, gold lockets or pearls swaying out from tightly satin clad breasts to just within the reach of his grubby fingers….

 

I have come to believes that it was the seeds planted in my mind by those dreams that may have very well guided and nudged me onto the course I have continued following to this day.

 

So, naturally I guess, as I walked away my train of thoughts took a similar course as those dreams/nightmares. I imagined the mother I had just left, walking along a street alone, dressed as she was last evening, the jewels that were now in a cold small cubby, once again upon her figure, glittering their fiery beacon. Then suddenly her daughter, dressed as she was now, was strolling alongside her. The street urchin I had seen that morning so long ago was here also, following close, eyeing the ladies reflected jewels in a storefront window as they walked past……

 

But at that point in my daydream I realized that I had reached and was standing beside my two seater, and shaking my head clear of such thoughts (once again, sadly not seeing the outcome) I happily hopped over the door and into the driver’s seat, firing up the engine, and quite eagerly pulled away from the hotel and roared down the road.

  

I stopped by my secret cubby, and without haste, fully on the alert, made my way down to the basement. I collected my stash and made it back to the Lotus without incident. Lighting me pipe, I smiled to meself, promising a nice stiff one once I got back to the abode. I pulled away, slowly, cheerfully, driving down the warm sunlit road. I was now on to new quests, filled with promises of many lucrative acquisitions.

 

One of those quests was wrapped around a young lady in Soho, who recently had inherited a jewellery collection worth ₤25,000 which she loved wearing out in public, flaunting the richly jeweled pieces all about whenever she could. The quite, almost vulgarly rich, young lass had so many Beaus seeking her affections that she was being invited out almost weekly out to some special dress up affair. This all made her overly ripe for the plucking by some jewelry procurement minded thief. And being one meself, a jewel thief that is, I intended to be the first in line.

 

Once I returned home, I first visited my London banks strongbox to deposit my newly acquired ” glittering with fire” trophies to let them “cool” down a bit. Then I made sure the Yard received an anonymous post. Said post containing a red silk evening clutch, inside which was beady eyes’ pocketbook( sans money) along with the letter incriminating one certain rogish gent by the name of Samuel for attempting extortion of 5000 pounds sterling from the fair Claire’s Mother. I know how the chaps in the inspector’s squad so love a mystery!

 

And so, for now dear journal, I bid farewell, adieu.

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

 

Si vous voulez faire rire Dieu , faire des plans

 

Roughly translated:

If you want to make God laugh, Make plans

 

Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives

 

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Henk and Tobi enjoying their lazy sunday.

In collaboration with co-worker and photographer Alexia Gaelyth

Taken at The Pier - Live Music Venue, Wild Beach (60, 48, 23)

British postcard in the Famous Cinema Stars Series by J. Beagles & Co., London, no. 149.A.

 

Antonio 'Tony' Moreno (1887-1967) was a Spanish-born American actor and film director of the silent film era and through the 1950s. In his early films, Moreno was often typecast as the suave, smouldering 'Latin Lover' and was seen as a serious rival to Rudolph Valentino. He was equally adept at romance, melodrama or comedy and is best known for films such as The Spanish Dancer (1923) with Pola Negri, Mare Nostrum (1926) with Alice Terry, The Temptress (1926) with Greta Garbo, and It (1927) with Clara Bow.

 

Antonio Moreno was born Antonio Garrido Monteagudo in Madrid in 1887. He came to America at the age of fourteen. Although he claimed to have attended Williston Northampton School in Easthampton, Massachusetts, the school's archives have no record of his having done so. His working life began as an employee of the Northhampton Electric Light and Gas Company. He first acted on stage under the tutelage of Maude Adams whose theatre he had initially visited in order to fix the lighting. From the repertory stage in Massachusetts, he then made his way to Hollywood where he arrived in 1912. Having made his film debut in The Voice of the Millions (Stanner E.V. Taylor, 1912) at Rex-Universal, Moreno then featured as a top draw card for Vitagraph until 1921. In 1914 Moreno appeared in major films such as Judith of Bethulia (D.W. Griffith, 1914), The Dust of Egypt (George D. Baker, 1915), and John Rance, Gentleman (Van Dyke Brooke, 1914) with Norma Talmadge. Within a short time, he became a star through his appearances opposite Talmadge. Alongside Ramón Novarro and above all Rudolph Valentino, Moreno rose to become one of the most popular Latin lovers of the silent film era because of his southern good looks. In the process, he acquired a large female fan base. He proudly held the sobriquet "King of the Cliff-hangers" because of his prolific work in serials as co-star to Pearl White. In the early 1920s, Moreno joined the cinema company Cineplex Entertainment and became one of its highest-paid performers. The pinnacle of his career came a few years later under contract to Famous Players Lasky/Paramount (from 1923 to 1924) and at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (in 1926). His film partners included Bebe Daniels in the Broadway comedy The Exciters (Maurice Campbell, 1923), Pola Negri in The Spanish Dancer (Herbert Brenon, 1923), Greta Garbo in The Temptress (Fred Niblo, Mauritz Stiller, 1926) and Clara Bow in It (Clarence G. Badger, 1927). The comedy It in particular was a huge box office success and featured Moreno as a department store heir who turns the heads of all the shop assistants.

 

In the 1920s, Antonio Moreno was one of the highest-paid actors in Hollywood. With the advent of sound pictures, his career suffered a sharp decline, in no small measure due to a heavy Spanish accent. He made only a few films in Hollywood during this period and instead worked increasingly in Mexican productions. During the early 1930s, he also directed several films there, such as the first Mexican sound film Santa (Antonio Moreno, 1932) and the drama Águilas frente al sol/Eagles across the Sun (Antonio Moreno, 1932). Moreno tried to rebuild his Hollywood career as early as the 1930s, including an appearance in the Laurel and Hardy film The Bohemian Girl (James W. Horne, Charley Rogers, 1936) where his character has an affair with Oliver Hardy's wife. But it wasn't until the mid-1940s that he returned to better roles in American film, including as a character actor in The Captain of Castile (Henry King, 1947) starring Tyrone Power. In 1954, the veteran star took the lead role in the cheaply produced horror film Creature from the Black Lagoon (Jack Arnold, 1954), which became a cult classic over the years. His last significant appearance was in John Ford's Western epic The Searchers (John Ford, 1956), where he played a Mexican who showed John Wayne and Jeffrey Hunter the way to an Indian chief. Nonetheless, he eventually segued into character parts and remained gainfully employed in the industry until the late 1950s. He was awarded a Star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at 6651 Hollywood Boulevard in Hollywood, California in 1960. Moreno was married in 1923 to Daisy Danziger, the daughter of an oil millionaire. Their lavish mansion, called 'Paramour', was one of the largest in Hollywood and the site of many famous parties. Ten years later, Daisy died in 1933 in a tragic car crash near Mulholland Drive. Antonio Moreno passed away in 1967 in Beverly Hills. Following his death from heart failure, he was interred at Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Glendale, California.

 

Sources: I.S. Mowis (IMDb), Wikipedia (German and English) and IMDb,

 

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We give rise to ego, by being insecure

The advice that we go, desperatly searching for

The subconscious effort, to support our paramour

To engage in denial, to admit we're immature

Validating lies, Mr. Intentional

Open up yours eyes, Mr. Intentional

(Lauryn Hill, Mr Intentional)

  

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VHH 1751 mit neuer Werbung für das Musical "Cirque du Soleil - Paramour":

 

VHH 1751 | HH-V 9751 | Schenefeld, Kiebitzweg | 04.09.2018

She is from the TV series Zen about an Italian cop and Tanya was his hot paramour who would disturb the force when ever she would drop by the police station! Her name as an actress was Catarina, also an excellent name, but Tanya won out.

Female demons, as opposed to incubas, succubuses (male names) tempt men during their sleep and make every effort to unite with them. The belief in sexual relations between a spirit and a mortal, man or woman, is very ancient and present in many peoples. Monks, anachoretes and shepherds claimed to be the object of the loving pursuits of succubi.All the dreamers and hallucinators of fasting and abstinence, were beset by their lascivious caresses and devouring ardour. These demons often animated a body torn from the sepulchre and the wealthy lover, or rather lost by passion, found between his arms, after a night of drunkenness, a corpse emaciated and stinking. The succubi also took on the appearance of the beloved person, in order to incite the boyfriend or chaste man to commit the sin of lust. A succubus is a Lilin-demon in female form, or supernatural entity in folklore (traced back to medieval legend) that appears in dreams and takes the form of a woman in order to seduce men, usually through sexual activity. The male counterpart is the incubus. Religious traditions hold that repeated sexual activity with a succubus may result in the deterioration of health or mental state, or even in death. In modern representations, a succubus may or may not appear in dreams and is often depicted as a highly attractive seductress or enchantress; whereas, in the past, succubi were generally depicted as frightening and demonic.

Les Cent Contes drolatiques d' Honoré de Balzac is a little-known work that appeared between 1832 and 1837. Balzac wrote only thirty of the one hundred stories, divided into three dizains. This work was conceived as the second pillar of the Balzacian edifice, facing La Comédie humaine. They are tales in the tradition of the fabliaux of the Middle Ages and written in a re-invented language of the 16th century. The archaic, anachronistic construction of this work made reception impossible, struck the critics, surprised and discouraged the public. This reception is still problematic today, as familiarity with medieval writing and syntax is reserved for an elite readership. ""

The word is derived from Late Latin succuba "paramour"; from succub(āre) "to lie beneath" (sub- "under" + cubāre "to lie in bed"), used to describe the supernatural being as well. The word "succubus" originates from the late 14th century.

According to Zohar and the Alphabet of Ben Sira, Lilith was Adam's first wife, who later became a succubus. She left Adam and refused to return to the Garden of Eden after she mated with archangel Samael. In Zoharistic Kabbalah, there were four succubi who mated with the archangel Samael. There were four original queens of the demons: Lilith, Eisheth, Agrat Bat Mahlat, and Naamah. A succubus may take a form of a beautiful young girl but closer inspection may reveal deformities of her body, such as bird-like claws or serpentine tails.Folklore also describes the act of sexually penetrating a succubus as akin to entering a cavern of ice, and there are reports of succubi forcing men to perform cunnilingus on their vulvas that drip with urine and other fluids. In later folklore, a succubus took the form of a siren.

Throughout history, priests and rabbis, including Hanina Ben Dosa and Abaye, tried to curb the power of succubi over humans.However, not all succubi were malevolent. According to Walter Map in the satire De Nugis Curialium (Trifles of Courtiers), Pope Sylvester II (999–1003) was allegedly involved with a succubus named Meridiana, who helped him achieve his high rank in the Catholic Church. Before his death, he confessed of his sins and died repentant.According to the Kabbalah and the school of Rashba, the original three queens of the demons, Agrat Bat Mahlat, Naamah, Eisheth Zenunim, and all their cohorts give birth to children, except Lilith. According to other legends, the children of Lilith are called Lilin.

According to the Malleus Maleficarum, or "Witches' Hammer", written by Heinrich Kramer (Institoris) in 1486, a succubus collects semen from the men she seduces. The incubi or male demons then use the semen to impregnate human females, thus explaining how demons could apparently sire children despite the traditional belief that they were incapable of reproduction. Children so begotten – cambions – were supposed to be those that were born deformed, or more susceptible to supernatural influences. The book does not address why a human female impregnated with the semen of a human male would not produce a regular human offspring, although after transferring the male semen to the Incubi it is believed the semen is altered to match the genetic material of the Succubus and the incubi before being transferred to a human female host. But in some lore the child is born deformed because the conception was unnatural.

King James in his dissertation titled Dæmonologie refutes the possibility for angelic entities to reproduce and instead offered a suggestion that a devil would carry out two methods of impregnating women: the first, to steal the sperm out of a dead man and deliver it into a woman. If a demon could extract the semen quickly, the transportation of the substance could not be instantly transported to a female host, causing it to go cold. This explains his view that Succubae and Incubi were the same demonic entity only to be described differently based on the tormented sexes being conversed with. The second method was the idea that a dead body could be possessed by a devil, causing it to rise and have sexual relations with others. However, there is no mention of a female corpse being possessed to elicit sex from men.In Arabian mythology, the qarînah (قرينة) is a spirit similar to the succubus, with origins possibly in ancient Egyptian religion or in the animistic beliefs of pre-Islamic Arabia. A qarînah "sleeps with the person and has relations during sleep as is known by the dreams."They are said to be invisible, but a person with "second sight" can see them, often in the form of a cat, dog, or other household pet. "In Omdurman it is a spirit which possesses. ... Only certain people are possessed and such people cannot marry or the qarina will harm them."To date, many African myths claim[citation needed] that men who have similar experience with such principality (succubus) in dreams (usually in form of a beautiful woman) find themselves exhausted as soon as they awaken; often claiming spiritual attack upon them. Local rituals/divination are often invoked in order to appeal the god for divine protection and intervention.In Arabian mythology, the qarînah (قرينة) is a spirit similar to the succubus, with origins possibly in ancient Egyptian religion or in the animistic beliefs of pre-Islamic Arabia. A qarînah "sleeps with the person and has relations during sleep as is known by the dreams."They are said to be invisible, but a person with "second sight" can see them, often in the form of a cat, dog, or other household pet."In Omdurman it is a spirit which possesses. ... Only certain people are possessed and such people cannot marry or the qarina will harm them."To date, many African myths claim[citation needed] that men who have similar experience with such principality (succubus) in dreams (usually in form of a beautiful woman) find themselves exhausted as soon as they awaken; often claiming spiritual attack upon them. Local rituals/divination are often invoked in order to appeal the god for divine protection and intervention.In India, the succubus is referred to as Yakshini and are mythical beings within Hindu, Buddhist, and Jain mythology. Yakshinis are the female counterpart of the male Yaksha, and they are attendees of Kubera, the Hindu god of wealth who rules in the mythical Himalayan kingdom of Alaka. They are the guardians of the treasure hidden in the earth and resemble fairies. Yakshinis are often depicted as beautiful and voluptuous, with wide hips, narrow waists, broad shoulders, and exaggerated, spherical breasts.In the field of medicine, there is some belief that the stories relating to encounters with succubi bear resemblance to the contemporary phenomenon of people reporting alien abductions,[which has been ascribed to the condition known as sleep paralysis. It is therefore suggested that historical accounts of people experiencing encounters with succubi may rather have been symptoms of sleep paralysis, with the hallucination of the said creatures coming from their contemporary culture.

Many, including King James[disambiguation needed], have also correlated the succubi to wet dreams, or nocturnal emission. During the time when succubus lore was created, any sexual activities that were not purposefully procreative were considered sinful. The succubi may well have been an explanation for men who could not control their biological function, yet wanted to stay faithful to their society.Church scholars have long debated about the true nature of the incubus and succubi and sin committed in contact with them. Some thought it was the same demon, sexually asexual at the base, who could become an incubus or succubus, as the case may be. He could gather the seed of a man and pass it on to a woman, which was a very simple excuse to explain an adulterous pregnancy.

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Succubus