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I was having my patio renewed and the builder managed to insert a concrete slab into the old wall surrounding part of my garden, strong enough to take the weight of my very heavy stone Buddha head. The greenery and flowers seemed to automatically curl around it.
This rose is planted in shade and I wondered how long it would be before it showed its colours. It hasn’t disappointed me.
April, 2020: I miss a lot during these days of lock-down, of isolation and no contact with friends, but what I’m missing more than I thought I would is the work I and a group of other volunteers have been doing with our County Archaeologist, Dr. Ruth Waller.
“The past is another country “said J.P. Hartley, but I don’t think he had in mind the 13th or 14th centuries when he said that. It is something very obvious to me however, as a volunteer with the Brading Community Archive Group, when I open a centuries-old Rate Book, a Fee Farm Rent Book or a Poor Rate Book. For over a year now we have been working on unlocking the past through old documents, books, paintings and photographs from the village of Brading on the Isle of Wight, a project made possible by a Grant from the Heritage Lottery Fund and without which the project would not be possible.
The end result will be that books and documents which have been hidden away for centuries will be transcribed and available online to researchers. The original documents will be seen side by side with the transcribed documents and will also be available in paper form for researchers.
Charles lst gave this once thriving seaport as security for a loan from the City of London. Today Brading is no longer a coastal seaway: after failed attemps in the 16th century the marshes were finally drained and the embankment completed on 1881 which enabled the railway system to progress.
Brading’s history is apparent from the Norman Church at the top of the incline to the well-preserved 16th and 17th century houses that line both sides of the High Street with their eclectic range of windows, roofs and chimneys. Next to the church is the old town hall, a stone and brick building with an open arcade housing the stocks and whipping post, once the site of the butchers’ shambles for the market first held in 1285.
It is here that we work, in the Old Town Hall, a musty room over the stocks, a cold place in the winter as we can’t have heating because of the fragility of the books.
As bacteria, acids, oils and dirt on our hands can be transferred to the materials we are working on, disposable rubber gloves are worn at all times, no food or drink is allowed on the premises and it goes without saying that no pens are allowed anywhere near the documents or books (all notes must be taken using pencils). Working on the books is done according to prescribed rules: opening them at 1800 could cause irreparable damage (1200 is the maximum opening) and tightly bound books should be opened no more than 900. To prevent damage to the spine they are opened in a box made into a sort of cradle and as fragile surfaces must not be touched pages must never to be turned by the corners, and more …. And I haven’t got to photographs and pictures yet!
Before we got to the transcribing stage we had to carefully clean the books with special brushes which wouldn’t damage the paper, first the front, back and spine, then each page. When I say this was boring, believe me, I’m not exaggerating. After that, each book was wrapped in special acid-free paper, tied up with acid-free cotton tape, given a number which was attached to it and then placed carefully on shelves ready for the next stage.
In the midst of all this ancient paraphanalia we sit among modern technology, overhead scanners, laptops, computer storage devices etc.
Once the transcribing began the brain was engaged and the fascination with ancient ways and history meant that even two cold winters in the Old Town Hall could be coped with – just! As well as remembering that 1752 was the first year in England to begin on January 1st (until then the New Year began officially on March 25th, Lady Day) there was the fact that two centuries earlier, in 1582, Pope Gregory XIII had reformed the Julian calendar because it did not conform to the solar system, and cut 10 days from the year. England did not follow other European countries in this and remained ten days behind until an adjustment was made in 1752 and these days removed. Then there are Regnal years versus calendar years and other hazards for the careless transcriber, one of the trickiest being documents written in the reign of Charles ll who came to the throne in May 1660 although he calculated his regnal year as beginning on 30 January 1649 the date of his father’s execution. These anomalies do not interfere with the actual transcription of the documents but they have to be kept in mind for dating purposes.
The actual transcription has to retain the original spelling and as spelling in English was not standardised until the 18th century this can create difficulties. Before then phonetic spelling was used and people wrote in the local dialect so when transcribing it is often necessary to say the word aloud as it appears on the page to get a sense of what the word might be. It is useful to know where the document was written or by whom as a word written by someone who spoke in a Somerset dialect say, could differ in spelling from that of a Londoner.
The books and documents themselves are fascinating and sometimes one can spend too long reading about the fines for allowing a pig to roam in the street, money requested for footware for a shoeless child of the village, for a cart to take an old woman to the Workhouse, or for bread for a hungry family. One is made aware of the importance of policing certain trades by the weights and measures being strictly kept under lock and key and checked and signed for each year, and made to wonder at the many pubs the village supported. There are many sad tales and one is grateful beyond words to have been born in this present day and age where despite its failings, there is a safety net to catch all but the most vulnerable in our society.
We shall be working on the books for another year at least, but once away from the ancient past and into the 20th century it will get easier, and I dare say, less interesting. Coronation street parties, the coming of street lighting and the contract to the lamp-lighter (£16 a year), are still fascinating but I shall miss the dark, old days, when life was ruled by the rising and setting of the sun and when having the price of a candle meant that a woman could wear her eyes out doing sewing to make an exra few pennies to feed the family.
When the lock-down is over and things return to normal, our little band of volunteers will return once more to our job of unlocking the past so that future generations will be able to research the history and times of Brading, Isle of Wight. Although it is but a small town on an island, the broad outlines of how it was run apply equally to towns and villages all over the country and the knowledge gained by looking at this one small town gives an insight into England’s governance at a micro level.
Posted in answer to Wander Essence’s prompt to pick a book, turn to page 79, 4th line down and write a travel piece based on that. The book is New Finnish Grammar (a novel) by Diego Marani trans. by Judith Landry and the sentence is: She was pressing her hands together desperately thinking of something to say.
‘Don’t mention the war’ they said, when I told them I was off to Bremerhaven. But Max behaved impeccably when the subject came up.
‘Shame the old cobble stones were dug up’ I said, as he showed off his immaculate town. ‘Oh, we didn’t dig them up,’ he said, casually, ‘They were destroyed by bombing during the war.’ Oops. I couldn’t think of a thing to say.
I’d come to Bremerhaven to visit Max and to see for myself if a port could be as pretty as it looked in the photographs he kept sending me.
It’s the largest fishing port in Europe and a major seaport for world trade, but it’s also a fun place. Art Nouveau styled houses with brightly coloured façades lend a cheery air to the serious merchant area. Street musicians, a pedestrianised shopping paradise along the waterfront, sleepy cafes and tree lined boulevards, – all this plus beaches!
In this flat land, somewhat reminiscent of Holland, even I could look proficient on a bike and it wasn’t long before Max and I were mounted on comfortable cycles. The banks of the River Geeste and the surrounding forests are ideal for hiking and cycling and large parks within the city are havens of quiet when you want a rest. We sat on the banks of the Weser for a while and watched the ships go by and then we took ourselves off to Bremerhaven’s own beach, the Weser Lido, for a spot of sunbathing with the locals.
Just a short train ride away was the Free Hanseatic City of Bremen, the pulsating heart of Northwest Germany. With more than 1200 years of history in its streets and buildings there is enough architecture here to keep the hungriest culture vulture well satisfied.
Centre of the city is Market Place, where the Schutting, seat of Bremen’s merchants for four centuries, St. Peter’s Cathedral whose towers give stunning views over the city, and the The Rathaus, dating back to 1405, are a reminder of Bremen’s glorious past.
We lunched in the Town Hall cellar (the Ratskeller), which has served as an eating place for more than 500 years, sitting under a low barrel-vaulted ceiling in a cloister-like atmosphere and choosing a wine from one of over 600 fine German wines they keep in stock. Dark wooden cubicles lined one wall (doors kept open by law!) and huge crested barrels dominate the centre of the room. I decided on the pigs knuckle with sauerkraut, fried potatoes and pickled cucumber but I wish I had been forewarned about the size of the pig’s knuckle. German pigs are BIG!
Max suggested a visit to the vaults beneath the Cathedral to see the mummified bodies but post lunch squeamishness made me refuse. Instead we wandered through Bremen’s oldest area, the medieval Schnoor district, once home to fishermen and sailors but now housing artists’ studios and craft shops selling unusual things like life size puppets, designer kites and dolls’ houses. Also worth noting are the top class restaurants and shops that crowd the area. The district was renovated in the late 1950’s, but fortunately the developers didn’t destroy the medieval charm of the district or make the place into a Museum.
There were craft shops too, in nearby Bottcherstrasse, where the zany house fronts with carved wall panels brought a smile to my face and the carillon made of Meissen porcelain made me marvel. The inventor of decaffeinated coffee, one Ludwig Roselius, commissioned these buildings on the tumbledown alley he had purchased early in the 19th century.
Evening saw us in Das Viertel, the centre of Bremen’s nightlife and cafe society, the like of which I’d only seen before in old Montemartre. Moroccan and Turkish snack bars vied with beer joints and shady looking clubs, and Dali-esque people in designer clothes clogged the pavements. Too rich a mix for me after such a hard day’s sightseeing, so we wandered back to a quiet tavern in Schnoor for a satisfying tankard of Bremen’s best.
Yes, Bremen was different. ‘You know, Hitler never came here’ Max said as he saw me off at the station. ‘We were always anti-fascist and he knew that.’
That’s how different they were: they mentioned the war.
Details:
Best time to go is for the Freimarkt in October, Bremen’s answer to Munich’s Octoberfest, a huge celebration of food and drink, beer tents and sausage kiosks. Be warned, outrageous behaviour is the order of the day.
Beck’s inn Snoor is the place to sample the local draught beer. They also serve good seafood. There are plenty of snack bars round and about and the food is always good and plentiful.
Restaurants: Do keep enough dosh to eat at Natusch Fischerihafen Restaurant in Bremerhaven for great fish served almost straight from the boat. The place is full of hearty eaters, and they often come around to ask if you want more. Fish dishes from €25 Euros, Grills from €21. Table d’hote Menu from €31.50 for 3 courses. Very large portions so check what other are eating and maybe settle just for one course. Wines by the glass very reasonable.
It’s been a few years since I last visited the villages along the River Main in Germany but it was once a favourite driving holiday, especially in early spring when the flowers were in bloom and the street stalls were full of jewel coloured blooms, wrapped in flimsy coloured paper, just asking to be taken home. Of all the lovely medieval villages along the route one of my favourites was Miltenberg, a town with a wide main street lined with half-timbered houses and small medieval alleys.
The beautiful houses that line its main street span the 15th – 17th centuries and the oldest dates back to 1339: what is so unusual is that all of these half-timbered dwellings are lived in. In consequence, there is no feeling that this is a tourist site, a place where we come to gawp and take photographs. Instead, we wander and look, dive into interesting looking shops, and stop off at cosy taverns serving local cuisine along with the wine of the area – and, of course, beer.
The town has a few interesting sculptures dotted around the streets most of them honouring local artisans. I was also impressed by the quality of the goods for sale in the shops, at a quality-high price I may add. Even the mannikins that modelled the clothes looked beautiful as you can see from the picture below.
Viniculture and the wine trade, wood from the surrounding forests and stone, and the fact that the town was well-placed on the river for transportintg goods, was favourable to this location at the trading artery of Nuremberg and Frankfurt and the town grew rich.
One can see Miltenberg’s importance from the magnificent half-timbered houses, especially those in the Old Market Place (the Schnatterloch) and Germany’s oldest Inn, the Gasthaus zum Riesen, dating from 1590. It claims to be Germany’s oldest Inn and an historical document tells us that a local owner at the time was granted the right to fell a hundred oak trees for its construction. It is known for serving some of the best food in town and is especially noted for its roast salmon.
From the Market Square to Mildenburg Castle, which was constructed in 1200 under the aegis of the Archbishop of Mainz, is an easy walk. The castle doesn’t really comare to other castles in Germany being a relatively small fortress, but it is worth the walk if only for the wonderful views of the old city.
A small town but a supremely beautiful one, and a recommended stop on the way to or from Nuremberg or Frankfurt.
To Chichester last week to see I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue, the stage performance of the popular Radio 4 satirical quiz starring Jack Dee, Rory Bremner, Miles Jupp, Tim Brooke-Taylor and Tony Hawks. A superb – and hilarious – evening in a packed Chichester Festival Theatre where the audience laughed their way through two and a half hours of clever, satirical humour.
But this post isn’t about the performance, brilliant though it was, it’s about Chichester, a hidden gem of a City, located less than two hours from London and within easy distance of Brighton, Southampton, Portsmouth and the S.E. coast.
We stayed overnight, Chichester being well supplied with hotels and guest houses, the only drawback being the weather which wasn’t kind to us. Rain and wind are not conducive to walking slowly through cobbled streets steeped in history, along canal banks, through green parks and along the City Walls, not to mention walking to and from the Theatre.
For that reason the outdoor photographs here were all taken last year. I go there at least once a month to the The Festival Theatre and its sister theatre, The Minerva both of which offer first-class productions of drama, musicals, and newly written plays, most of which transfer to the West End after their run in Chichester. There are also two good restaurants on the site (booking essential).
The city’s Roman influence is reflected in the main street pattern, and it is not difficult to spot historic buildings that line the streets and the little alleys that lead off them. One of the city’s most iconic features is The Market Cross, believed to have been built in 1501 by Bishop Edward Story, who paid £10 to the Mayor of Chichester for the ground on which it is built. The Bishop allowed peasants to trade under the Market Cross without paying a toll, and it’s still a gathering point for the community today and for sellers of fruits in summer and umbrellas and plastic ponchos last week!
You will see the Roman name Noviomagus Reginorum in various places in the city and to find out what that means, the best thing is to take a walk along the City Walls, the most intact circuit of Roman town defences in Southern England. You can start the 1.5 mile walk anywhere along the wall and stop to admire the impressive views over the rooftops at any point.
If the weather is not conducive to walking the walls, then head to the free Novium Museum, built over the remains of a vast Roman bath house which can be seen from the ground floor, for an in-depth insight into the history of the City and wider district.
Another indoor attraction is the Pallant House Gallery (rated second only to the Tate for modern British art by the Guardian) which explores new perspectives on British art from 1900 to now. It is housed in what is considered to be one of the most important 18th century townhouses in England and one of very few Queen Anne houses open to the public.
The Cathedral is one of the most impressive in S.E. England and has a wealth of art inside that makes a visit there worth more than a visit to many other grander buildings. See linked post.
I am not a frequent visitor to churches and cathedrals but I make an exception for the 7thCentury Chichester Cathedral because it contains art that speaks to me. The Cathedral is a classic Norman building with round arch windows and west facing twin towers and is the only English Cathedral with a surviving detached medieval Bell Tower dating back to 681 when Saint Wilfred brought Christianity to Sussex.
It was raining heavily on the day after the theatre performance so we spent most of the time before lunch and our departure, in the Cathedral. I wanted to re-visit the Arundel Tomb, subject of a poem by one of my favourite poets, Philip Larkin. I have been re-reading Larkin recently and that particular poem has being going round and round in my head and I knew I could only dislodge it by visiting the tomb.
The Arundel Tomb was brought from Lewes Priory sometime after its dissolution in 1537. On top of the carved stone tomb lie the figures of Richard Fitzalan, Earl of Arundel, and his second wife, Eleanor of Lancaster. The tomb was restored at the beginning of the 19th century by Edward Richardson, a well-known sculptor of the day.
I know the poem off by heart and I was able to sit there for a long time and listen to the music of the words in my head and ‘see’ what Larkin saw when he wrote the poem. Without his words, I would have walked by this tomb and missed what he saw “what will survive of us is love”. If copyright allowed, I would have liked to add the poem here, but it wasn’t possible.
I also wanted another chance to see the Chagall stained-glass window and the Gustav Holst plaque. The Chagall window, installed in 1978, is unusual in that the glass is predominantly red when Chagall usually worked in blue. It is absolutely gorgeous and I could have stayed longer just drinking in the beauty of the luminous jewel cololurs.
Gustav Holst, composer of The Planets Suite, one of the greats in British 20th century music, had a special connection to Chichester Cathedral having worked with Bishop Bell on the Whitsuntide Festivals. On his death on 25th May, 1934, aged 59, his ashes were interred in the Cathedral under the plaque on the floor in the North Transept near to a memorial to his favourite Tudor composer, Thomas Weelkes.
I shall no doubt visit again on my next trip to Chichester because there is more art to be seen in the cathedral. There is a John Piper tapestry on the High Altar, a vividly coloured work which I have yet to take to: there is a Graham Sutherland painting and there are various sculptures worth searching out.
Don’t be fooled by the dirndls and schnitzels, the chocolate box houses and the cuckoo clocks. Lucerne’s Alpine charm hides an up-to-the-minute city crammed full of attractions from minimalist, boutique hotels like *The Hotel to the sleek KKK (Culture and Convention Centre) perched on the lake, both designed by Jean Nouvel. What’s more to the point, Lucerne has achieved this modernity without losing its old-fashioned charm, allowing it to be both hip and graceful at the same time.
Years ago, the best way to arrive in the city was by the white Rolls Royce of the Schweizerhof Hotel. Today, one effortless hour on the smooth, comfortable train from Zürich airport decants you on to the lakeside quay where you are face-to-face with picture postcard Switzerland – paddle steamers criss-crossing the lake backed by a panorama of snow-capped mountains, the Rigi, Pilatus, and the the pinnacled range of the Uri and Engelberg. Grand hotels of the Belle Epoque that played host to poets, writers and musicians (as well as Queen Victoria of England), line the promenade.
An elegant city, medieval Lucerne with its fairytale-like turrets and covered wooden bridges, is one of the world’s most agreeable cities in which to spend time. It is an easy place to get around: it offers not just stunning scenery and sightseeing, but year round artistic events and enough Museums to keep any culture-vulture happy for weeks. Among the best are the Rosengart Collection on Pilatusstrasse (a treasure chest of Klees, Braques, Picassos), The Picasso Museum featuring original paintings by the artist and the quirky Museum of Art housed in the KKK which offers eclectic exhibitions at different times.
Like Florence and Venice the outdoor artwork is equally attractive. The KKK is a sleek, polished cube of over 7,000 sq. metres of entertainment and conference space which appears to float on the waters of the lake, a modernist contrast to the old town just a few steps away. Here, frescoes of knights and their ladies cover the Renaissance façades of buildings in the cobbled streets and squares and glimpses of ancient Swiss architecture, turrets and balconies meet your eye wherever you look.
Lucerne is bisected by the fast-flowing Reuss River which is crossed by two famous wooden bridges. The larger of the two, the Kapellbrucke – burnt down in 1993 but since rebuilt – is the oldest preserved wooden bridge in Europe and displays a series of 17th century paintings on 67 triangular panels under its eaves, depicting the Dance of Death. The nearby Water Tower originally formed part of the city fortifications.
The second most photographed site is probably the Löwendenkmal, which Mark Twain described as “the saddest and most moving piece of rock in the world”. Carved into a natural sandstone wall in the centre of the town is a statue of a lion pierced by a lance and resting a paw on a shield depicting the Bourbon Lily. It was erected to commemorate the massacre of Swiss mercenaries fighting on the royalist side after the French revolution and Twain’s remark is understandable because it is, without doubt, the saddest looking lion you are ever likely to see.
There is a thriving music scene throughout the year, but the hills really come alive with the sound of music in August and September when Lucerne takes the world stage with a classical Music Festival that attracts performers and an audience, from around the world. Inaugerated in 1938 when Arturo Toscaninni conducted Richard Wagner’s Siegfried Idyll in Lucerne, the festival now offers more than 100 events comprising concerts, ballet, opera, chamber music, dance and theatre, in the acoustically perfect KKK and at various venues around the city. And every week-end sees magnificent firework displays which make the waters of Lake Lucerne sparkle and glow – especially when watched from the open air terrace of the KKK.
June sees the very local Altstadtfest (Old Town Festival) when the streets resound to the music of the local oompah bands and visitors are invited to join in the dancing. And if it’s jazz your after then make sure you’re there for the Blue Balls Festival in July with music from soul to R. & B. and funk.
For a spot of retail therapy, both sides of the Reuss can be recommended. For top name watches go to the Bucherer and Gübelin stores which are easy to find: just look for the long queues of Chinese shoppers outside the store. If you’ve already got a Rolex, then you can wander along the right hand bank of the river every Tuesday and Saturday morning and enjoy the fruit, flower and vegetable market, perhaps stopping off at the Rathaus Brauei for a beer or a coffee, or the famous Swiss Chocolate. Authentic Swiss cuisine can be found at Galliker, Wilden Mann Burgerstube, and Old Swiss House.
Cuckoo clocks, musical boxes and Swiss Army Knives, are well made, traditional gifts from Switzerland that are usually appreciated, and a fine collection of these can be found at the Old Swiss Shop nestling at the foot of the Hofkirche and run by the charming multi-lingual Madam Lydia who has thoughfully placed a table and chair outside her shop for weary sightseers.
Switzerland has a surprisingly good nightlife and Lucerne has the coolest clubs and bars. The Grand Casino Luzern offers live entertainment and in summer, the Stadkeller, an excellent restaurant, hosts some great concerts, but the really good thing to do is to take the night boat out on the River Reuss to listen to traditional Swiss music and join in the dancing.
As well as trips on the old-fashioned paddle-steamers to surrounding towns and villages like Viznau, Interlaken, and Brienz (if you don’t fancy this, just relax and enjoy the ravishing views from the steamer while you sip a coffee or have lunch), no one should leave Lucerne without making an excursion to the summit of the city’s own snow-covered Mount Pilatus from which the views are stunning.
Factor in lunch on the summit to get maximum enjoyment from a trip that utilises lake steamer, cable car, gondola, and the world’s steepest cogwheel railway that climbs through flower-carpeted meadows dotted with clumps of intense blue gentians and wooden Swiss chalets hung with red and pink geraniums. You won’t hear much yodelling here but you will be aware of the chiming of the bells around the necks of the gravity defying brown and white cows grazing on impossibly steep slopes.
If this whets your appetite for mountain views, then make for Stanserhorn where there is a 100 kl. Alpine vista of 10 Swiss Lakes and Gerrmany’s Black Forest. There are opportunities for easy hiking at the summit, as well as lunching on the classic local dish of Luzerner Kügelipastete, a large puff-pastry shell filled with a rich stew of veal and mushrooms in a creamy sauce!
Lucerne has something for everyone and an evening cruise on the lake or a stroll along the promenade, will allow you to experience the essence of Switzerland in the place the Swiss call City of Lights – an essence that is in the air, the changing shapes of the mountains, the changing colours of the water and, above all, the magical light.
** The Hotel, a “concept” hotel (member of the Autograph group) where the ceilings are painted with scenes from art house films (think Fellini, Fassbinder). Tel: +41 41 226 86 86 www.the-hotel.ch
NOTES:
Don’t leave home without your Swiss Pass which entitles you to either unlimited travel or half-price travel, plus entrance to Museums, depending on which one you purchase. In the UK contact sales@stc.co.uk
Ten minute outside town with magnificent views, the family-run Hotel Balm Meggen (Tel: +41 41 377 11 35 www.balm.ch
The underground memorial site at Arras, the Wellington Quarry – Carrière Wellington – should be high on the list of things to see when visiting the historic town in northern France.
Most people are familiar with the Somme Battles, Passchendaele and Ypres, but fewer are aware of the sacrifices that were made at Arras: France alone lost 30,000 men. A visit to The Wellington Quarry, which is in the middle of the old city of Arras, reveals a little-known story of World War I and is a good place from which to try and understand the horrors of World War I.
First, a little bit of history to set the scene.
The battles of Verdun which involved the French, and the battles of the Somme which involved the British and Commonwealth in 1916 had been disasters with terrible loss of life. Arras was strategic to the Allies and, uniquely in World War 1, was under British command from 1916-1918, but was under continual bombardment from German troops. To create a new offensive on the Vimy-Arras front, the Allied High Command decided to tunnel through the chalk quarries under Arras which had been dug out centuries before to provide building material for the town. The plan was to construct a sort of barracks, a series of rooms and passages in which 24,000 Allied troops could hide in readiness for the planned attack and for the tunnels to go right to the edge of the enemy’s front line which would allow them to burst out and surprise them.
The Wellington Quarry Museum tells this story of this quarrying, the lives of the townspeople and the troops, and the lead up to the battle of Arras on April 9th, 1917 and a walk through the tunnels lets you experience something of what it was like to live in these depths for two years.
In March 1916 the first of the skilled men required for this job arrived on the Western Front – 500 miners of the New Zealand Tunnelling Company, mostly Maori and Pacific Islanders, gold miners from Waihi and Karangahake, coal miners from the South Island and labourers from the Railways. Discouraged from enlisting due to the essential nature of their industry, they were now plunged right into the thick of it, working alongside experienced miners of the Royal Engineer tunnelling company, miners from the Yorkshire mines and tunnellers who had worked to dig out the London Underground.
The first task was to create primitive underground living-quarters, and with superhuman effort they dug 80 metres per day to construct two interlinking labyrinths. They worked only with pick axes and shovels as the Germans were just above them so no explosives could be used . Conditions were primitive and dangerous and although the temperature was a regular 11 degrees, it was continually damp: there were many deaths, many injuries.
By April 1917 they had created a working underground city with running water, lighting, kitchens and latrines: a rail system and a hospital were up and running and space for 20,000 soldiers was found even if it was cramped. Completed in less than six months 25 kms of tunnels eventually accommodated 24,000 British and Commonwealth soldiers who, as with the battlefields above ground, gave their sectors the names of their home towns. For the British it was London, Liverpool and Manchester, for the New Zealanders it was Wellington, Nelson and Blenheim. Nowadays, Wellington is the only one of the quarries that can be visited, the others now mostly lost or covered over by buildings and car parks.
In dim light, a lift takes you 20 metres underground, during which the guide starts the extraordinary story of the Wellington Quarry tunnellers against a recorded background of men talking, pick axes hitting stone and the occasional explosion. In breaks in the tunnels small screens pop out with black and white images of soldiers working or at ease and disappear just as quickly.
You’re told about the one bucket of water to a dozen men. You feel the presence of the soldiers, and you hear voices. “Bonjour Tommy” says a Frenchman against footage of civilians and soldiers chatting in the streets. You hear letters written home, and poems from the war poets, like Siegfried Sassoon’s The General.
“Good morning. Good morning” the General said
When we met him last week on our way to the line.
Now the soldiers he smiled at are most of ‘em dead,
And we’re cursing his staff for incompetent swine.
“He’s a cheery old card”, grunted Harry to Jack
As they slogged up to Arras with rifle and pack
. . . . . . .
But he did for them both by his plan of attack.
Artefacts left behind by the soldiers are on display, helmets, dog tags, bottles, boots, electrical fittings, railway carts, bullets. Pictures scratched in the chalk of the walls are pointed out, names of sweethearts, and humourous signs like “Wanted, Housekeeper”.
You are almost lulled into a false sense of normality as you listen to the sounds of men talking and laughing. Then you reach the end and your guide points to where the exits were dynamited to enable the men to go up the sloping passageway that led to the light, over the top and into battle at 05.30 on the morning of 9th April, 1917. It was snowing and deathly cold when the order was given to burst out of the quarries. It was Easter Monday.
24,000 men erupted from the earth: initially the assault was a success. The Canadians seized Vimy Ridge; Monchy-le-Preux was taken; the soldiers of Australia, Britain and the Commonwealth fought hard and the Germans, taken by surprise, were pushed back 11 km. But then the Allied troops, on orders from above, were told to hold back, during which time the Germans, who had retreated, re-formed and called up re-inforcements. Every day, for two months after that, 4,000 commonwealth soldiers died, before the offensive was eventually called of.
The film of the battle (which those in charge considered a success by the standards of the time) can be seen upstairs as you exit.
Facts:
Wellington Quarry,
Rue Deletoille
Arras
Tel.: 00 33 (0)3 21 51 26 95
Entrance adult 6.90 euros, child under 18 years 3.20 euros
Open Daily 10am-12:30pm, 1:30-6pm
Closed Jan 1st, Jan 4th-29th, 2016, Dec 25th, 2016
MARI'S TRAVELS WITH HER CAMERA 