Amberley Publishing - Transport, Military, Local and General History

Tag Archives: Local History

  • A-Z of Stratford-upon-Avon by Will Adams

    I was delighted to have the chance to contribute a Stratford-upon-Avon volume to Amberley’s ‘A-Z’ series, as the town and I go back a long way.

    ‘Swans of Avon’: the river and its swans and other waterfowl are central to Stratford and the iconography of Shakespeare. (A-Z of Stratford-upon-Avon, Amberley Publishing)

    I’m a ‘Coventry kid’, having lived in that city for the first 19 years of my life, so Stratford was only just down the road. My sister and I were lucky in that our parents were theatre-lovers, and we made frequent visits to the Memorial Theatre during the 1960s. In those days the theatre had a small apron stage, and on either side of the stage projection were a couple of very short rows of diagonally positioned seats, right under the edge of the apron. Because of their unconventional position, I guess they were relatively inexpensive; whatever, my parents, who didn’t have a lot of money to throw around, booked us into these seats, which meant that we were often really in the thick of the action! You had to crane your head up to see, and only got a sort of sideways view, but in battle scenes we were likely to have a cannon or a corpse rolled in front of us, and we were also in the direct line of fire of any of the ‘spitty’ actors of the day.

    Talking of the actors, my mother, then in her late thirties, was quite stage-struck, so she and I often found ourselves part of the gaggle of autograph hunters at the stage door after the performance. One actor we saw frequently, though nameless now, was a regular extra – third spear-carrier from the right and so on – and always went home on a bicycle; he became known to us as ‘the bloke on the bike’. At the other end of the acting scale, I see from my autograph book, which I still have, that in the mid-1960s I obtained signatures from such greats a Judi Dench, Marius Goring, Tony Britton, Diana Rigg, Ian Holm, Eric Porter and David Warner, all appearing with the RSC.

    Attending other events in the town – poetry readings and the like – I see that I also have the autographs of John Betjeman and Donald Pleasence.

    The Birthplace today, heavily restored in 1858 to what it looked like in a drawing of 1769. The 1960s Shakespeare Centre can be seen beyond. (A-Z of Stratford-upon-Avon, Amberley Publishing)

    We travelled to Stratford from Coventry in Dad’s Ford ‘Pop’, and generally managed to get a street parking place in Chapel Street, not far from the theatre – very unlikely these days, I would imagine. The car had no heater, so on the journey home my sister and I in the back had our knees covered by a tartan blanket, and were frequently called upon by Dad to ‘wipe the back window’ with a duster to remove the condensation – no heated rear screen either! The journey was traditionally broken by the purchase of four bags of chips from a fish and chip shop in Warwick – a welcome treat on a cold night!

    Another memory of Stratford in those days was the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare’s birth in 1964, when a large exhibition was mounted on the meadows beside the river. As a souvenir I bought a small china tray bearing the famous portrait of the playwright together with his signature. It’s still on display at home today, some 55 years later – thanks to the application of some glue…

     

     

    The chancel and spire of Holy Trinity Church viewed from the east bank of the Avon. (A-Z of Stratford-upon-Avon, Amberley Publishing)

    In later years, having moved away from Coventry, my wife and I would often have a day out with Mum and Dad in Stratford, enjoying its variety of shops – and tearooms. Sadly, as my parents became less mobile, so these occasional excursions inevitably became less frequent, so it was a great pleasure to have the excuse to re-acquaint myself with the town by researching the book – especially the non-Shakespeare-related aspects. For example, I didn’t know that John Profumo was the town’s MP at the time of the notorious 1963 scandal. The contributions to ‘Bardolotry’ by eccentric romantic novelist Marie Corelli, eminent actor David Garrick and the Flower brewing family produced fascinating insights. I also didn’t know that Stratford had a listed telephone kiosk, and was home to the Royal Label Factory, which produced many of the cast road signs and signposts that were so familiar in the 1960s.

    My wife and I spent a very enjoyable long weekend in June 2018, at the height of that summer’s heat wave, taking photographs for the book and exploring some of the town’s less familiar corners. While the whole placed is steeped in Shakespeare, it is worth bearing in mind that he spent much of his working career in London, and essentially very little is known about him, his life and death, and his family – which is perhaps what makes him so endlessly fascinating to theatre-goers and scholars alike. What is certain (unless you subscribe to the ‘they-were-all-written-by-someone-else’ conspiracy theory school!) is that when he died in 1616 he had written some 37 plays and 150 sonnets – and he was only 52 years old. Quite an output!

    Will Adams' new book A-Z of Stratford-upon-Avon is available for purchase now.

  • A-Z of The Black Country by Andrew Homer

    The Workers’ Institute from Cradley Heath, locally known as the ‘Stute’, and now preserved at the Black Country Living Museum is remarkable not just for its Arts and Crafts style architecture but also for the people and stories associated with the building. Two such people are Mary Reid Macarthur and Thomas Sitch.

    The Cradley Heath lockout

    The Cradley Heath Workers' Institute. (Author's collection, A-Z of The Black Country, Amberley Publishing)

    The Workers’ Institute is closely associated with the history of women’s trade unionism and in particular Mary Reid Macarthur. Mary was the daughter of a Glasgow draper and after leaving school worked for her father as a bookkeeper in the family business. She had ambitions to be a journalist and would attend local meetings and write them up for the local paper. One of these meetings was the Ayr branch of the Shop Assistants’ Union. Once Mary had become exposed to the ideas of trade unionism, she knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life. After becoming secretary of the Ayr branch of the Shop Assistants’ Union Mary was invited by Margaret Bondfield (who would later become the first woman Cabinet minister) and Gertrude Tuckwell, President of the Women’s Trade Union League (WTUL), to become the Secretary of the WTUL. In 1906 Mary founded the National Federation of Women Workers (NFWW) which was a general national union for women.

    Emblem of the National Federation of Women Workers. (Author's collection, A-Z of The Black Country, Amberley Publishing)

    The emblem of the National Federation of Women Workers, which appeared on both enamel badges and marching banners, symbolised very effectively the aims of the NFWW.

    The clasped hands are a common trade union motif and here the hand on the right clearly belongs to a woman with a lace sleeve representing the aim of unity between female and male trade unionists. This aim was eventually achieved in 1921 when the NFWW merged with the National Union of General Workers. The bundle of sticks running down the centre of the emblem has its origins in the Roman ‘fasces’, a symbol of power. However, Mary Macarthur often used the analogy of the bundle of sticks to represent the strength of the union. Writing in ‘The Woman Worker’ in 1907 she stated that:

    A trade union is like a bundle of sticks. The workers are bound together and have the strength of unity. No employer can do as he likes with them. They have the power of resistance. They can ask for an advance without fear. A worker who is not in a union is like a single stick. She can easily be broken or bent to the will of her employer. She has not the power to resist a reduction in wages. If she is fined she must pay without complaint. She dare not ask for a ‘rise’. If she does, she will be told, ‘Your place is outside the gate: there are plenty to take your place.’ An employer can do without one worker. He cannot do without all his workers.

    The bundle of sticks symbol can be seen displayed on the front of the Workers’ Institute building itself. The motto ‘To fight, to struggle, to right the wrong is taken from Tennyson’s poem ‘Wages’ and represents not just the fight for fair wages but also the poet’s stance on equality for men and women. The ‘wrong’ may also be a reference to sweated labour which frequently involved women such as the ladies engaged in domestic chain making in and around the Cradley Heath area of the Black Country.

    The ‘bundle of sticks’ motif displayed on The Workers' Institute building. (Author's collection, A-Z of The Black Country, Amberley Publishing)

    In the same year Mary Macarthur was instrumental in helping to set up the National Anti-Sweating League along with George Cadbury, J. J. Mallon and others. This organisation put pressure on the Liberal government to do something about the so-called sweated industries. These industries were typified by very low pay, poor working conditions and long hours. Four trade boards were set up to cover chain making, box making, clothing and lace making, the first of which was the Chain Board. President of the Board of Trade at the time of creation was Winston Churchill who had introduced the Trades Boards Act in 1909. In 1910 this was successful in bringing in a minimum wage of 212d an hour for chainmakers who were mainly working from home in small chain shops and were being paid on piecework rates of approximately a 114d an hour. Chainmakers working in the factories were already above this minimum wage but not so the many women chainmakers working up to 55 hours a week from home earning between 4 and 5 shillings.

    The women chainmakers worked at forges either in small chain shops behind the squalid homes in which they lived or else would share a shed with other women from ‘across the blue paved yard’ or ‘fode’. Their homes were often overcrowded, damp and lacking even basic amenities. The rent on these homes would be approximately 4 shillings a week. As well as making chain for up to fifty-five hours per week, producing approximately 5000 links, the women would be looking after babies and younger children who would generally play amongst the sparks and constant noise of hammering in the chain shops. They would be making small link chain, sometimes called ‘hand hammered’ or ‘country work’ chain which was often used in agriculture, mining and by the army. They were at the mercy of an intermediary called the ‘fogger’ who delivered the lengths of iron and then paid for the completed chain. The women had little choice but to accept what little the fogger offered in payment for their hard work.

    Women chainmakers in a Cradley Heath domestic workshop. (Author's collection, A-Z of The Black Country, Amberley Publishing)

    A handful of Black Country chain making companies paid the minimum wage immediately, but most made use of a clause that delayed payment until 17 August 1910. An unfortunate loophole in the law allowed companies to further delay payment for six months if the workers themselves opted out of the minimum wage. This loophole was exploited by the Chain Manufacturers’ Association (CMA), some 30 companies and 150 non-CMA middlemen. The employers came up with a complex worded document which the women were coerced into signing. Many could not read or write and simply did not comprehend what they were doing. Others who refused were threatened with no more work. In the meantime, companies stockpiled chain against the time they could no longer avoid paying the minimum wage. One of the intentions of this was to directly challenge the Trades Boards Act and the authority of the Chain Board to impose a minimum wage.

    The new rate was due to be paid from August 17 but in the event few employers complied with the Chain Board minimum wage. The situation escalated quickly. A meeting of 400 women at Grainger’s Lane School on 21 August effectively marked the start of what was to be a nearly ten-week lockout when they all agreed not to sign the opting out document. Things came to head on the 23 August 1910 when the NFWW insisted through a new agreement that the minimum wage should be paid straight away. This resulted in the chain making companies withdrawing raw materials and effectively putting the women out of work. Strike was now inevitable. The strike was called a lockout but it should be noted that as the women were working from home they were not actually locked out of anywhere. The women chainmakers were not just fighting for the minimum wage either as Mary Macarthur was well aware. The authority of the Trade Boards to address the plight of workers in the sweated industries was also now to be tested on a national stage.

    Mary Macarthur addressing the crowd at Cradley Heath in 1910. (Author's collection, A-Z of The Black Country, Amberley Publishing)

    It was an incredibly brave thing for these women to down tools and go on strike. Although they didn’t earn very much the money was still essential to help put food on the table for their families. Secondly, having put down their hammers there was every chance they would never work again. The one thing that made it possible for so many to down tools, around 800 at the height of the strike, was the provision of a strike fund, the success of which was mainly down to the phenomenal publicity campaign orchestrated by Mary Macarthur. Whilst Mary concentrated mainly on national campaigning equally enthusiastic local organisation was provided by Julia Varley of the NFWW, Thomas Sitch who was General Secretary of the Chainmakers’ and Strikers’ Association and his son Charles Sitch who was the secretary of the hand-hammered chain branch of the NFWW.

    The publicity campaign mounted by Mary Macarthur was truly remarkable. She made use of all the available media at the time to publicise the plight of the women chainmakers. She had a group of the oldest lady chainmakers photographed with some of them wearing chains around their necks. The oldest was Patience Round who was 79 in 1910 and still a full time chainmaker who incredibly lived to be 103. Patience liked to talk about her life and her story appeared in the newspapers of the day. Pictures such as these appeared in the press including The Times together with headlines such as ‘Fetters of Fate’ and ‘Women Slaves of the Forge’. This was a clever move to deliberately make a connection between these women and slavery. However, this was not the first time such a connection had been made. Writing in 1897, Robert Sherard described the appalling conditions the sweated chainmakers of Cradley Heath endured in his book, The White Slaves of England.

    It was in 1910 that French filmmaker Charles Pathé came to England to introduce his Pathé Newsreel service to British cinema audiences. Mary convinced him to come and film a march in Cradley Heath. Not only that, the film included the conditions the women were working and living in. Although silent the manager of Pathé estimated that it could have been seen by up to 10 million people throughout the country. Mary undertook a national lecture tour to expose the chain making companies not paying the minimum wage as supporters of sweated labour. Locally there were regular rallies, marches and meetings to keep the impetus of the strike going.

    Mary Reid Macarthur. (Author's collection, A-Z of The Black Country, Amberley Publishing)

    The result of all these publicity efforts was that money poured in to the strike fund. There were collections on street corners and in factories. Poorer people contributed pennies and halfpennies and even the aristocracy and leading business families got involved. Amongst many others, the Countess of Warwick sent £25 with the promise of more if needed and Arthur Chaimberlain, of the influential Birmingham based Chamberlain family, contributed 50 guineas. Also in Birmingham, George Cadbury of the Bournville Quaker Cadbury family, made regular contributions of £10 on a weekly basis. Over the ten weeks of the strike it was hoped to raise £1000. In the event, nearly £4000 was raised, a very considerable amount of.

    A number of factors contributed to ending the strike in the women’s favour. The government, who of course had brought in the minimum wage through the Chain Board, agreed not to place any more contracts for chain with companies not paying the minimum wage. This was a serious issue for the CMA as such contracts, particularly for the army and navy, could be very lucrative. On the 2 September CMA member companies added their names to a list maintained by the Chain Board. This was known as the ‘White List’ and contained the names of companies paying the legal minimum wage. This was the turning point and gradually the names on the White List increased until the strike was finally over on the 22 October after the last remaining company had signed. The chain making women of Cradley Heath had won their minimum wage of 212d per hour, thanks mainly to Mary Macarthur and her unwavering belief in the justice of the cause.

    The strike fund had nearly £1500 pounds left in it when the strike ended. Mary Macarthur could have put that money in NFWW coffers but she didn’t. Instead, Mary proposed that the money be used for the construction of a Workers’ Institute. Not just for chainmakers but for all workers and families of Cradley Heath. It was to be both ‘a centre of social and industrial activity in the district’. Originally built on some wasteland where strike meetings had taken place it is now preserved at the Black Country Living Museum. It was opened in Cradley Heath by the Countess of Dudley on June 10, 1912. A lasting monument to the bravery of the chainmaking women who downed their hammers in 1910 and to Mary Reid Macarthur, their charismatic leader.

    Andrew Homer's new book A-Z of The Black Country is available for purchase now.

  • London's Sightseeing Buses by Malcolm Batten

    In 1972 London Transport 'tested the waters' for an open-top tourist service by hiring five 1951 Park Royal-bodied Guy Arab IIIs from East Kent from 17 June. (London's Sightseeing Buses, Amberley Publishing)

    As the capital of the United Kingdom, and with a history going back to the Roman times, London has obvious potential for tourism. As long ago as 1851, long before London Transport had come into existence, London hosted the Great Exhibition at the Crystal Palace in Hyde Park. In 1951 a new exhibition entitled the Festival of Britain was held on the South Bank of the Thames, between Waterloo Bridge and County Hall to mark one hundred years since the original. Described as ‘A Tonic to the Nation’ and running for six months, the Festival of Britain was a great success, a time for rejoicing after the rigours of war (although rationing was still in force). Over 8 million visitors attended this and also the Festival Pleasure Gardens at Battersea, and almost all used public transport. From 11 May four London Transport RT buses, which had toured Europe the previous year to publicise the event, inaugurated the Circular Tour of London. The fare was 2s6d (12.5p) and the conductor used a public address system.

     

    In 1990 ten of the RCLs were converted to have removeable centre sections on their roofs. RCL2243 passes the Law Courts in Aldwych on 7 July 1991. (London's Sightseeing Buses, Amberley Publishing)

    Tourism again blossomed with the Coronation in 1953. But after this the tourist market was not a priority, although the sightseeing tour continued each year. In 1967 a ‘London Sightseeing Round Tour’ 20 mile, 2 hour tour was being offered with six journeys a day starting from Victoria. It ran from Good Friday until October at a fare of five shillings (25p) for adults, half price for children. In 1968 this became the more logically sounding ‘Round London Sightseeing Tour’ and the fare had increased to six shillings (30p).

    In 1970 the Round London Sightseeing Tour carried 325,000 passengers. In 1971 the tour operated on a daily basis (except Christmas Day). From 3 April tours ran every hour from 10.00am to 9.00pm, for the first time from two departure points – Piccadilly Circus and Victoria. It was not pre-booked but on a turn up and go basis and the fare was now 50p for adults, 30p for children. Services were operated by Samuelson New Transport Co. Ltd. on behalf of LT.

    Advertising the Round London Sightseeing Tour. (London's Sightseeing Buses, Amberley Publishing)

    In 1972 Britain joined the European Communities (European Union from 1993), eventually enabling visa less travel from other member countries. It was also in 1972 that London Transport ‘tested the water’ for an open-top tourist service by hiring five 1951 Guy Arab IIIs from East Kent. East Kent provided the drivers and LT the conductors. Also in 1972 London Transport hired Obsolete Fleet’s preserved former Tilling 1930 AEC Regent ST922 on a daily 45 minute circular route 100 from Horse Guards Parade. This was crewed by LT and sponsored by Johnnie Walker whisky, whose adverts it carried. Both operations were obviously deemed a success, for in 1975 Obsolete Fleet supplied seven open-top former Midland Red D9s to London Transport, painted LT red. These vehicles supplemented LT’s own Daimler Fleetlines, used on the Round London Sightseeing Tour since 1973. In 1974 more than 600,000 passengers were carried.

    In 1978 the D9s were replaced by a batch of seven convertible Daimler Fleetlines bought by London Transport from Bournemouth Corporation, the DMO class. The 1970s and early 1980s were a difficult time for bus operators with supply problems and poor industrial relations within the manufacturing industry. The Sightseeing Tour was not top priority so vehicles were hired from a number of sources to run this, supplementing their own vehicles. The hired vehicles were painted in LT red, but some had no indication of the ownership or function other than a paper ‘on hire to London Transport’ notice.

    Deregulation of coach and express services in 1980 allowed other operators to openly compete with London Transport on sightseeing services, unlike bus routes where LT had a monopoly. These competitors not only directly copied the pattern of tour that LT operated, they also introduced a number of new innovations, including ‘Hop-on, Hop-off’ tours and multilingual taped commentaries. Even so, by 1982, the RLST was generating some £60m to LT’s income.

    Advertising for resturant Planet Hollywood has been applied to RCL2250, seen rounding Marble Arch on 29 March 1996. (London's Sightseeing Buses, Amberley Publishing)

    From June 1984 London Regional Transport took over London Transport from the GLC. Then from 1 April 1985 a new wholly owned subsidiary, London Buses Ltd took on the operation of buses.

    In 1986 there was a rethink on sightseeing operations. As tourists regarded the Routemaster as the iconic London bus it was decided that these should be used on the sightseeing tour rather than the latest vehicles or hired buses. Fifty Routemasters were overhauled at Aldenham Works to replace the Metrobuses and hired vehicles on the RLST. They were given original style livery with cream band and gold underlined fleetname. Twenty RMs were converted to open-top, while nineteen retained their roofs for use in winter or inclement weather. The other eleven were RCLs which retained their roofs and regained doors. The route was rebranded as ‘The Original London Transport Sightseeing Tour’ (TOLST), and adult tickets now cost £5.  It was still a non-stop tour, but starting points were now at Victoria, Haymarket, Baker Street and Marble Arch.

    Brigit's Afternoon Tea Bus Tours. (London's Sightseeing Buses, Amberley Publishing)

    Also in 1986 London Buses made their first attempt at a Hop-on, Hop-off service with Touristlink route T2. Starting on 7 June this was a circular route taking in most of the tourist sites including the Tower of London, British Museum, Madame Tussauds, Kensington and Hyde Park, with an all-day flat fare of £2 (children £1) and a short hop fare of 50p (children 25p).

    In April 1989 London Buses was split into regional operating units, plus London Coaches who ran the sightseeing operation. This was in preparation for eventual privatisation in the 1990s.

    When Privatisation took place, the London Coaches unit was sold in May 1992 to a management buy-out. However the company has changed owner twice since then.

    Of the many companies that joined in the competition from the 1980s, some were to be short-lived, being absorbed by other competitors, while others stayed the course to become major players. In more recent times, new companies have entered the market with varying success. Some of these have created new niche markets such as tours of haunted London or tours with afternoon tea served en-route. A mix of new and second-hand vehicles continue to provide the tours – even some Routemasters can still be found on tour work.

    Malcolm Batten's new book London's Sightseeing Buses is available for purchase now.

  • Secret Rutland by Daniel J. Codd

    The Development of ‘Secret Rutland’

    The idea for Secret Rutland may be said to have developed from two basic concepts.

    View of Hambleton from Rutland Water. The submerged hamlets of Nether and Middle Hambleton lie to the left. (Author's collection, Secret Rutland, Amberley Publishing)

    From a personal perspective, I have always been fascinated by Rutland Water as a feat of human engineering, although I accept that had I been born a generation or so earlier I might have had quite a different opinion on its at-the-time controversial development. Nonetheless, I was intrigued by a particular story that I heard on a number of occasions while walking the water’s edge: that, when the conditions were right, the bells of a church could be heard tolling beneath the waterline. This was because while developing Rutland Water ‘they had to flood some villages’. Only the latter part of this anecdote is partially true, but I was intrigued by the way that an old folkloric theme – that of the bells of submerged churches still tolling underwater – had become reinvented to fit a modern damming project like Rutland Water.

    The second concept concerned an observation that Rutland as a county warranted books about itself only infrequently. In fact, Rutland in literature seemed to suffer from a predisposition to be included within books on Leicestershire, almost as an afterthought. This seemed a little unfair, although somewhat understandable because between the 1970s and 1990s it was amalgamated into that neighbouring county. Although a small part of England, Rutland appeared so deserving of a book of its own that the idea for Secret Rutland was proposed. The outcome was by no means guaranteed – after all, there are UK towns with larger populations than the whole of Rutland put together! But with so much untapped history and local lore, the opportunity to devote a work wholly to Rutland proved to be viable one.

    Martinsthorpe - deserted scenic, possibly haunted, and somehow symbolic of Rutland. (Author's collection, Secret Rutland, Amberley Publishing)

    County folk proved very forthcoming with snippets of data for the work. One of the great joys of preparing the book was that it provided the opportunity to explore every corner and aspect of England’s smallest county. I had already made a resolution that I would visit every single parish church, large or small, since these are traditionally where a phenomenal amount of local knowledge can be gathered. But particularly enjoyable were the necessary excursions into Rutland’s beautiful open countryside. I was continually amazed how, even in Rutland, one could still find that they were out in the ‘middle of nowhere’.

    As an example, one exploratory walk the reader may find extremely rewarding proved to be the one from Manton to Martinsthorpe. Martinsthorpe is a deserted village so loftily positioned that it provides commanding views of the surrounding countryside, with church spires distantly visible in each direction, and Rutland Water shining like a giant mirror away to the east. Medieval earthworks surround the one remaining house at the spot, the post-medieval Old Hall farm. This is currently deserted, and the explorer will find no company out here apart from the sheep – and possibly the ghost of a civil-war era messenger said to haunt this windswept site. The point is that I found this spot to be classic Rutland – reminiscent of a beautifully tranquil, slightly removed time capsule that might be a metaphor for the county as a whole. This was just one of many rewarding and inspirational jaunts into the heart of Rutland.

    Barrowden's cryptic stone. (Author's collection, Secret Rutland, Amberley Publishing)

    Of course, as is always the case, not everything made it into the final work. Many are the poignant memorials to the sons of Rutland lost in the Great War, particularly inside Uppingham’s school and church. In the end just a small handful of these were observed in the finished publication to reflect the county’s sacrifice. But other sombre memorials can today be found within and without all of Rutland’s churches (except Teigh), including for instance the poppy-decorated cross at Market Overton dedicated to Lieutenant Vincent Wing, killed in 1917. The roses in the churchyard here were planted in his honour. Even if it were not the 100th anniversary of the end of the Great War, these would still be sites worth seeking out, as are the modern stained glass windows at Edith Weston and South Luffenham reflecting Second World War activity in the county. Another story omitted from the finished book concerned the deeds of the Parliamentarian soldier and independent thinker Robert Overton, who died while under house arrest at Seaton in 1678. A brass plaque to his memory can be found at Seaton’s church. And elsewhere in the county, near to the village pond at Barrowden, one cottage has an older stone block incorporated into its wall, which bears a cryptic inscription. This appears to be for the attention of anyone gazing upon coffins being taken into the church, for it tells them that they will themselves inevitably die! These places of interest are reminders that Rutland has yet other secrets not included in Secret Rutland!

    They are also reminders that every parish in Rutland has its own story to tell, naturally, and Secret Rutland could have evolved into an explanation of each village’s development, focusing on halls that no longer stand, the sites of village ponds and wells that have been filled in, who owned the local blacksmith in 1927, where the sheep-washes could be located, and so on. This would undoubtedly also have been an interesting project, although such a then-and-now approach to Rutland had already been touched upon in Amberley’s Through Time series. Nonetheless, to a certain extent, snippets of parish development have been mentioned incidentally throughout the finished publication. Also included in Secret Rutland are many ‘secret’ stories from Rutland’s past that have until now been hidden in the archives, as well as a smattering of local colour in the form of folk-lore. But the main objective of the book is hopefully to highlight to the reader, be they Raddle-folk or tourists, the hidden items of interest that may yet be sought out and observed … that is to say, the evidences of Rutland’s fascinating story which are still there to be seen, even if they take some finding!

    Daniel J. Codd's new book Secret Rutland is available for purchase now.

  • Great Railway Journeys: The Chiltern Line to Birmingham by Roger Mason

    My recently-published book is not a technical study of the Chiltern Line from Marylebone Station in London to Snow Hill Station in Birmingham. It features thirty-eight fascinating buildings, monuments, historical sites etc that can be seen from the window of a train making the journey. Although the book is not long out some interesting things have since happened.

    Wembley Stadium. (Great Railway Journeys: The Chiltern Line to Birmingham, Amberley Publishing)

    Wembley Stadium

    Wembley Stadium may be termed the jewel in the Football Association’s crown, and there have been advanced plans for it to be sold to Mr Shahid Khan who is the owner of Fulham Football Club. The proposed sale was strongly resisted by some and it was even termed scandalous. Partly due to the controversy and ill-feeling Mr Khan has withdrawn his offer.  The stadium will continue to be owned by the Football Association.

    The stadium has tightened its procedures on checking bags that are brought inside. All items carried by ticket holders and staff will be tightly checked and there may be personal wanding or pat down. Spectators will only be permitted to bring in one bag which must not be bigger than A4 size. Match day purchases will be supplied in sealed plastic bags. They may be brought into the stadium so long as the seal is not broken. The extra security measures are probably necessary but it is very sad.

    The state of Wembley’s pitch has been very heavily criticised in the late autumn of 2018. In fact it has been termed awful. The reason is that it has been over-used. There have been the usual England international football matches, and in addition Tottenham Hotspur have played all their home games there. This is because their new stadium at White Hart Lane is not ready and probably will not be ready before the end of the 2018/19 season. There have been three NFL American Football games in quick succession, and it has been the venue for Anthony Joshua’s successful world heavyweight title boxing defence against Alexander Povetkin. The groundsmen have had and are having a tough job.

    A red Kite. (Great Railway Journeys: The Chiltern Line to Birmingham, Amberley Publishing)

    Red Kites

    Chapter 15 tells the story of these magnificent birds. They are large, having a length slightly more than two feet, and they frequently twist and turn in soaring flight. Their tails are deeply forked, which helps identify them. By 1879 there were none left in England and Scotland, but a handful clung on in mid Wales.

    A joint project by RSPB and English Nature (now Natural England) reintroduced them in several areas. The venture succeeded, especially in the Chilterns and breeding pairs have spread out from their places of introduction. A particularly good point to see them is close to the railway line mid way between High Wycombe and Princes Risborough. This is the position featured in the book.

    For obvious reasons it is not possible to count the birds, but when the book was written RSPB’s latest estimate for England was 1,860 breeding pairs, plus further juvenile and non-breeding ones. I suspect that this is an under-estimate. I recently drove past the area mentioned and I counted seven soaring overhead. I was on my way to watch Wycombe Wanderers play at Adams Park on the western edge of High Wycombe. There were two more red kites circling the stadium.

    Chapter 12 in the book is about High Wycombe and this includes something about Wycombe Wanderers and Adams Park. In case you are interested Wycombe beat Shrewsbury 3-2 and they have an outside chance of promotion from Division 1 into the Championship.

    Chesterton Windmill. (Great Railway Journeys: The Chiltern Line to Birmingham, Amberley Publishing)

    Chesterton Windmill

    Had I been able to consult Jane Austen she might well have told me that it is a truth universally acknowledged that a book such as this must be in want of a good windmill.  Chesterton Windmill is a particularly fine example and it is located on a bleak hillside three miles short of Leamington Spa.

    During my visit I was puzzled to see that two bunches of flowers had been laid at the foot of the structure. They were fresh and wrapped in cellophane, but there were no cards or other indications of their purpose. They reminded me of the sad tributes sometimes laid at the scene of a fatal road accident. I reconciled myself to not ever knowing the reason why they were there.

    I now feel that I do know the reason and it is a very sad one. A friend who lives a few miles away told me that some years ago there was a murder and that the body was found a short distance from the windmill. It happened in the winter at about the time of year that I made my visit. This must surely be the explanation.

    Roger Mason's new book Great Railway Journeys: The Chiltern Line to Birmingham is available for purchase now.

  • Edinburgh New Town: A Comprehensive Guide by Jan-Andrew Henderson

    For much of Edinburgh’s long existence, there was only the Old Town. Perched on a high basalt ridge, it slowly turned from a collection of rude cottages with a fort at the top and arable slopes on either side, to a collection of towering tenements clinging to the ridge.

    The original New Town. (Edinburgh New Town: A Comprehensive Guide, Amberley Publishing)

    This was the perfect defensive site. Scotland’s history was a turbulent one, so the Old Town never really expanded. It just got more and more crowded. Surrounded by a fortified wall, the greenery disappeared under a rash of tenements, which grew so high they were the tallest in Europe, reaching fifteen stories in some spots. People lived in underground cellars and tunnels, sanitation was non-existent, and the dwellings were rickety fire hazards and living conditions utterly deplorable. By the time the New Town came along, The Royal Mile’s glory days were fading. A huge number of Edinburgh aristocrats and ambitious, well educated innovators had taken off for London, were no longer willing to live in such a dirty, smelly, violent place.

    North of the city, however, were vast swathes of pastoral land. Separated from the Royal Mile only by the pungent expanse of the sewage filled Nor’ Loch, it was too tempting a prize to ignore. Along with Glasgow, Edinburgh was the focal point of the Scottish Enlightenment and still teeming with men of learning. Though the crowded conditions in the Old Town had actually been a perfect cauldron for brilliant ideas and innovation, better living conditions were deemed essential if all those geniuses were to be persuaded to stay. In 1752 a pamphlet called Proposals by Sir Gilbert Minto (1693-1766) argued that a nice new northern development was just the ticket to stop a potential brain drain and bring the cream of Edinburgh society back.

    Princes Street Gardens. (Edinburgh New Town: A Comprehensive Guide, Amberley Publishing)

    This required more than a new area to inhabit. It called for something to equal, or even surpass, the finest suburbs of London. Nothing parochial. British rather than Scottish, to give a cosmopolitan and classical feel. After all, you couldn’t beat the Greeks and Romans at this sort of thing.

    The man who got the ball rolling properly was Lord Provost George Drummond (1688-1766). His tentative first step was to build a gateway between the Royal Mile and the flat, open lands ripe for development – the North Bridge. Next, Drummond needed a builder with a grand plan. So, in 1766, the city launched a competition to design a New Town for Edinburgh.

    The winner was a little-known architect named James Craig (1739-1795), only 26 at the time. His layout wasn’t exactly earth shattering, merely a simple grid structure of three parallel main streets with a large square at either end. But it was loaded with allegory, (very) roughly mimicking the Union Jack, symbolizing the union of Scotland and England under the reigning king George III (1738-1820).

    Walter Scott Monument. (Edinburgh New Town: A Comprehensive Guide, Amberley Publishing)

    But the New Town was also symbolic of the Scottish Enlightenment and its beliefs – that society and its environment could be improved by logical and pragmatic thinking. Though grand in scale, the layout was deliberately functional and uncomplicated, rather than the organic, messy development of most cities.

    A natural reluctance by Edinburgh’s citizens to embrace change meant that it took almost fifty years to finish the first New Town. But the result was stunning and the influx slow and steady.  Ironically, the aristocrats Scotland hoped to entice back avoided the place, since they couldn’t plonk some stately home with a mile long driveway in the middle of such a carefully regulated area. This was no great loss, for it was the wealthy and cultured middle class who were most enthused by the ideals and aspirations of the Scottish Enlightenment. And they loved the place.

    This, to me, is the great irony of the New Town. In my opinion, the truly innovative ideas of the Enlightenment came out of the Old Town. Carried to the New World, they found a receptive audience in the thousand of Scots Irish and Scottish Presbyterians who had relocated there. This irrevocably shaped the ethos and national character of what would become the most powerful country in the world – the USA.

    Naturally, the occupants of the New Town were less radical, happy to keep up the momentum that had started on the Royal Mile. The ‘Scottish School’ of thought argued that we were ultimately creatures of our environment – and what an environment the residents now had. But they had no intention of resting on their laurels. They acquired knowledge like sponges. Considered bettering themselves a necessity. Exuded an unshakeable self confidence that their English counterparts now lacked and their predecessors in the Old Town, brilliant though they might be, had never really known. Along with Glasgow’s more free-wheeling counterparts, they altered the face of the globe by becoming the practical and intellectual backbone of an even greater force than the USA. The British Empire.

    Albert Memorial, Charlotte Square Gardens. (Edinburgh New Town: A Comprehensive Guide, Amberley Publishing)

    The city of Edinburgh finally had a civilized veneer and projected itself as ‘the Athens of the North’, despite the Old Town being a total cesspit. And that’s the sad part, in a way. For the first time, true public division had arrived. Instead of the rich and poor living cheek by jowl, complimenting each other in the generation of innovative ideas, the haves and have-nots were suddenly segregated by distance and class. Civilization had arrived and Edinburgh embraced the fact that it wasn’t just riding the coat tails of Britain’s bid to take over the globe. It was leading the charge.

    The New Town isn’t simply an architectural masterpiece but a monument to the body of men (and a few convention defying women) who changed the entire world.

    Jan-Andrew Henderson's new book Edinburgh New Town: A Comprehensive Guide is available for purchase now.

  • Secret Cambridge by Andrew Sargent

    It is difficult to write something fresh about a place which is as well known and loved as Cambridge. The run of colleges along The Backs are a vital part of our national heritage, and King’s College Chapel is familiar the world over from the televised Christmas Eve broadcast of Carols from King’s.

    Friends asked me to justify offering a new book. The answer is that, while a small slice of the town is a national treasure visited by millions every year, most of its long history passes them by. The focus on the colleges means that much else is hidden in plain sight; more is tucked away and forgotten. I studied and lived in Cambridge for fifteen years, and was aware that even in that time I barely scratched the surface.

    The Mathematical Bridge at Queens' College, originally designed by William Etheridge in 1749, has been rebuilt several times. (Author's collection, Secret Cambridge, Amberley Publishing)

    Secret Cambridge is probably unique in its approach. It explores the whole town, not just the famous colleges, and it takes in the whole story of Cambridge from its Roman origins to the present day. But it is not just a history: it also looks for the places where events happened, and traces the surviving physical clues to the past – things you can see and touch. It will be as stimulating for Cambridge residents who want to know more about their town as for visitors.

    There was a town here, beside the Cam, a thousand years before the first scholars made it their home. That town continued alongside the growing university, the two becoming increasingly intertwined and their relationship becoming ever more complex. It is easy not to appreciate today, but for much of history Cambridge was a transport hub. It was an important river crossing and the last bridging point before the fens and the sea. It was also the highest navigable point for seagoing vessels, a place where cargoes could be transferred between road and water. The city arms still show three ships riding at anchor beneath a bridge.

    The Saxon tower of St Ben't's Church is the oldest structure in Cambridge. (Author's collection, Secret Cambridge, Amberley Publishing)

    The Roman conquerors were quick to recognize the strategic importance of this crossing point, and a bridge was soon built. A small settlement sprang up on the bluff overlooking the crossing to service passing travellers, while a suburb grew up on the opposite bank along what is today known as Bridge Street. This settlement – barely a town – appears in itineraries under the name Duroliponte. In the fourth century AD the hilltop town, though not its suburb, was surrounded by a wall; its course is preserved in the street plan.

    Despite this Roman history, the settlement disappeared in the succeeding ‘Dark Ages’ – this was true of most British towns. There was no Cambridge at this date, although archaeology has discovered a lot of rural activity within the area of the modern city boundary. The settlement by the river crossing reappears in the documents in 875 when the Viking army over-wintered there. Notably, this was the first use of the place name Granta Brycge. In other words, someone (perhaps King Offa of Mercia) had built a new (presumably timber) bridge at this important location, and it would be reasonable to imagine a small settlement of entrepreneurs had sprung up around it. From this point onward, the town grew. About 50 years later, Edward the Elder, King of Wessex and son of Alfred the Great, cemented its importance by creating a burh (a fortified place) which became the administrative centre for his new shire. The oldest building in Cambridge, the 11th-century tower of St Bene’t’s church, is a relic of the thriving late Saxon town.

    The earthen motte of the first Norman castle offers wide views over the town. Other castle buildings lay beneath the Shire Hill and car park. (Author's collection, Secret Cambridge, Amberley Publishing)

    The conquering Normans left their stamp in the form of the castle motte (or mound) which commands the view from the top of Castle Hill. Meanwhile, the Norman town prospered, in common with many market centres across the region. What marked Cambridge out was the annual Stourbridge Fair. Originally granted by King John as a fundraising venture for the leper hospital on Newmarket Road, it developed into the most important fair in England, attracting merchants from across Europe.

    The game-changing date was 1209. Oxford University temporarily suspended itself in protest at an unusually severe outbreak of violence by the townsfolk, and its scholars scattered. Most subsequently returned to Oxford, but a group decided to settle in their quiet fenland haven. At first they were probably unnoticed, but gradually the tensions between the civic and academic communities grew. As the conflict intensified, nobles, and even the King himself, were pressed into service in support of one side or the other. The university gained the upper hand, and it was only in the 19th century that relations began to be normalized.

    The great hall of 1290 and seventeenth-century chapel of Peterhouse, Cambridge's first college. (Author's collection, Secret Cambridge, Amberley Publishing)

    Today the name Cambridge immediately brings to mind the many beautiful and venerable colleges. The early scholars, however, lived simply in rented lodgings. In the 13th century the friars and monks built their own monastic houses in the town where members of their orders could study. The foundation of the first college, Peterhouse, is reckoned from 1284 when Bishop Hugh de Balsham of Ely established a band of scholars in some buildings beside the church of St Peter without Trumpington Gate (now called Little St Mary’s). Even so, it was many years before the small community could afford to erect any new college buildings. Other wealthy and powerful donors followed the Bishop’s lead, resulting in the dramatic remodeling of the town centre which created the Cambridge we know today. A road named Milne Street which ran parallel to the High Street (now St John’s Street-Trinity Street-King’s Parade) was swept away; many houses were bought up and a church was demolished to make way. Unlike today, these first colleges were for graduates only; undergraduates were left to find accommodation around the town. The need to control their unruly behaviour formed part of the drive for students to live in colleges.

    One of the most striking features of Cambridge is the way the countryside seems to wind through the town. It is possible to follow the river from Grantchester to Fen Ditton walking only a couple of short sections on the pavement. This gives the town a unique atmosphere.  Inevitably, it is in part a legacy of the university and colleges’ stubbornness which forced most suburban development to the east of the historic core.

    Today both town and university are growing. The university must add new facilities if it is to maintain its remarkable position as a world leader. As the fields of West Cambridge succumb to these pressures, this flexible town looks towards a new phase in its colourful life.

    Andrew Sargent's new book Secret Cambridge is available for purchase now.

  • County Durham in Photographs by Nathan Atkinson

    Quarry, near Bishopley. (County Durham in Photographs, Amberley Publishing)

    To some, County Durham conjures images of either Durham itself or small pit villages, but in reality, County Durham offers so much more. The huge variety of subjects and landscapes became apparent when planning what photographs to take for the book. In fact, I have lived in the North East all of my life and there were locations I had never been to! It’s worth mentioning that County Durham has had various boundary changes so an initial challenge with the book is where do I include? Do I go with current County Durham or historic County Durham and then from what year. I settled on ceremonial County Durham so this could take into account neighbouring areas such as Darlington, Stockton and Hartlepool.

    Prince of Wales under construction. (County Durham in Photographs, Amberley Publishing)

    The region has a rich history to be proud of, be it ship building, mining, railways or areas of outstanding beauty, we have it all and it was all of this I wanted to capture. I was eager to show off well known places and some of those less well-known. For example, the road between Teesdale and Weardale passes old mine workings where, in the centre, is a pond with a lone tree (Quarry near Bishopley). I haven’t seen many pictures of this place and happened upon it by looking at some aerial photographs. It’s an out-of-the-way location but brings with it so many viewpoints. I could have quite easily made a book just on this location alone.

    High Force, Teesdale. (County Durham in Photographs, Amberley Publishing)

    As mentioned above, railways have a strong link to this area and I had the pleasure of taking photographs of a new locomotive being built by the A1 Steam Locomotive Trust. Housed in a white-washed building opposite terraced streets, many wouldn’t realise there is a full sized locomotive being built within by a small number of hard workers. To see Prince of Wales up close took my breath away, the amount of effort that had already gone into the project is simply awesome.

    I have always had a love for the outdoors and I was eager to show off the landscapes in the county. Obviously it was necessary to include a picture of High Force. High Force is a waterfall you hear before you see it and can be enjoyed no matter the season or weather. I had to plan the angle of the sun with weather conditions to achieve the photo I wanted. As all landscape photographers will tell you, what the forecast says and what actually happens are too different things. On the morning this picture was taken, the sky was grey and uninspiring. I sat waiting getting gradually colder. I decided to go for a walk instead. After half an hour the clouds diminished resulting in me running all the way back laden with all my equipment to take the shot! Sometimes just getting one decent shot on an outing is pleasing.

    Nathan Atkinson's new book County Durham in Photographs is available for purchase now.

  • A-Z of Leith by Lisa Sibbald

    Places - People - History

    Citadel Caption - The remains of 17th century Leith Citadel. (c. Authors collection, A-Z of Leith, Amberley Publishing)

    Despite having visited Leith on many occasions over several decades, and only living a few miles away in another part of Edinburgh, I never really appreciated Leith’s history until I wrote a small piece for my previous book, A-Z of Edinburgh. I spent a short time walking around parts of Leith and taking photographs, and I knew then that I wanted to write a book about Leith. I spent several months researching the area, taking photographs, and talking to Leithers both online and in person, and I learned so much in the process.

    I was always aware that Leithers were very proud of their heritage and their home, and now I feel I can understand why. There are centuries of history still evident in the very stones and streets – the remains of Leith Citadel date back to the middle of the seventeenth century, and Leith Fort to the late eighteenth century. The street names themselves hark back to a bygone time and Leith’s overseas trading connections – Cadiz Street, Elbe Street, Madeira Street, Timber Bush. Leith’s proud history as a port and docks is all around, from the wonderful Trinity House which was the base of the Incorporation of Mariners and Shipbuilders and is now a maritime museum, to the Malmaison Hotel which is in a former sailors’ home, to the Corn Exchange building with its magnificent frieze showing cherubs taking part in sowing, harvesting and transporting the grain which would eventually make its way to Leith. It has survived wars, sieges, bombings, and being amalgamated, against its will, into the city of Edinburgh!

    Swing Bridge Caption - Victoria Swing Bridge built in 1894 to connect the east and west sides of the harbour. (c. Authors collection, A-Z of Leith, Amberley Publishing)

    From the sixteenth century, Leith had been a centre for storage of wine and brandy, and later whisky production and storage. The whisky industry, with its associated trades such as coopering and transporting, employed thousands of people in Leith, and several famous names were created here, including VAT 69 and Highland Queen whiskies, Glayva, Crabbie’s Green Ginger and, unusually, a non-alcoholic drink, Rose’s Lime Juice. Sadly, from there being as many as 100 whisky bonds at the peak of the industry, the last whisky bond closed in 1995, but the buildings still remain, converted into flats or commercial property.

    Shipbuilding was of course another major trade and employer in Leith for many centuries, with the shipyards having built vessels which sailed all over the world. The last Leith shipyard, Henry Robb, closed in 1984 and another great tradition and major employer came to an end.

    Reflections Caption - Reflections of old and new Leith, with modern flats alongside the Malmaison Hotel, situated in the former Sailors' Home of 1885. (c. Authors collection, A-Z of Leith, Amberley Publishing)

    But Leith isn’t all about history. After a decline which saw many sub-standard tenements being demolished in the 1960s and 1970s, property developers began to see its potential for water-front redevelopment. This led to many new properties being built, along with wine bars and expensive restaurants. Old, run-down, historic buildings were repaired and restored, and given new life and a new purpose. This ‘gentrification’ has been, and continues to be, a subject of great debate, as the price of these luxurious new water-front housing developments is far beyond what many long-time Leith residents can afford. The wine bars and restaurants have replaced the pubs and fish and chip shops that had been there for decades. The Shore area in particular has gone from being the haunt of sailors and “ladies of the night” to a place where people arrive from other parts of town or other countries to eat expensive meals and drink expensive wines in Michelin-starred restaurants.

    Despite some of the new developments being given almost a “theme park” image with nautical themes and paraphernalia seemingly randomly dropped in, Leith isn’t just an area looking to its past. Leithers never forget their motto - “Persevere” - and they move forward. There are now many new businesses dealing in design and IT, buildings providing hubs for small businesses, and unique shops and coffee bars serve locals and visitors alike. The area continues to produce writers, artists, and musicians. It remains a vibrant community, proud of its past, but always looking to the future.

    Lisa Sibbald's new book A-Z of Leith is available for purchase now.

  • Secret Richmond & Swaledale by Andrew Graham Stables

    Queen Cartimandua - an Iron Age Soap Opera

    Stanwick Fortifications SE. (Author's collection, Secret Richmond & Swaledale, Amberley Publishing)

    The Brigantes were an Iron Age tribe who lived throughout the north but mainly inhabited the counties of Yorkshire, Lancashire and Durham. Their name actually means 'upland people' or 'hill dwellers’, a very appropriate appellation when the Pennines are at the heart of their territory. After the Roman invasion of Britain in 43AD, the Romans pushed north defeating Caractacus in 51AD and Boudicca in 61AD, but the Queen of the Brigantes chose to collaborate with the Romans. She is even credited with handing the British resistance fighter Caractacus over to the Romans, after he fled north hoping for sanctuary from another indigenous tribe. It should be remembered that Britain was not a nation at this time, but was rather a collection of independent and sometimes hostile tribes, who may have had longer held grievances with their neighbours than the Romans.

    Stanwick Fortifications Sign. (Author's collection, Secret Richmond & Swaledale, Amberley Publishing)

    Just to the north of Richmond are the Stanwick Fortifications, where it is believed the main residence of the Brigantes and their Queen, Cartimandua, was established. By 68AD, York and Catterick were the main northern bases for the Roman invader on the eastern side of the country, Chester being the largest on the west. They protected the main routes north and particularly the Pennine crossing, now known as the A66 or Stainmore Pass. The Catterick fort was situated on the river Swale less than a day’s march (10-12 miles) from the main concentration of Brigantes at Stanwick and excavations at the Stanwick site do show extensive trade with the Romans, demonstrated by pottery and glass objects. This clearly shows there must have been a form of communication and acceptance of the Mediterranean power on the edge of their lands. During excavations at the site hundreds of artefacts were discovered including a money hoard, chariot harnesses, swords and a horse face plate. Some of these are stored and sometimes displayed at the British Museum in London.

    Stanwick Fortifications still visible. (Author's collection, Secret Richmond & Swaledale, Amberley Publishing)

    The Stanwick site covers a huge area, with the 700 acres of land still clearly defined by the visible and very obvious earthworks, and to put the size of the site into some perspective, the famous Iron Age site of Maiden Castle at Dorchester is a mere 47 acres.

    The historical soap opera that unfolded at this time involved Cartimandua’s husband, who was called Venutius, and it is believed he came from the Carvetti tribe who inhabited Cumbria, maybe as part of a marriage alliance. He was anti-Roman and didn’t agree with his wife’s policies of cooperation with the invaders, which must have led to arguments, as Cartimandua divorced him and instead took his armour bearer as her lover. As you might imagine Venutius was a little upset with this dishonour, so he gathered other disaffected nobles and followers to attack his former wife. The Romans were distracted following the death of Nero and the political turmoil in Rome and Venutius managed to win, taking over the tribe, now hostile to the Roman forces.

    Stanwick Map overmarked to show area. (Author's collection, Secret Richmond & Swaledale, Amberley Publishing)

    By late 69AD the distractions in Rome were resolved and the Romans gathered their forces and very quickly defeated Venutius. There is no further mention in the histories to the fate of Cartimandua, no mention of her death and she seems to have simply fade away from history. This defeat of the Brigantes was the catalyst for the Roman expansion north and they moved from York and Chester, eventually reaching at least as far north as Dundee. This push north only took 10 years and before much longer the Romans established control over the whole of the north of the country.  They eventually fell back to Hadrian’s Wall which became the northern extent of the empire in the 120’s.

    The significance of this lovers tiff is huge, leading to Roman domination for the next 350 years and it all happened in the countryside surrounding Richmond and Swaledale.

    Andrew Graham Stables' new book Secret Richmond & Swaledale is available for purchase now.

Items 41 to 50 of 168 total

Page:
  1. 1
  2. ...
  3. 3
  4. 4
  5. 5
  6. 6
  7. 7
  8. ...
  9. 17