BURNING BRIGHT

'INSPIRING BOLD JOHN BARLEYCORN
WHAT DANGERS THOU CANS'T MAKE US SCORN'
Tam O' Shanter.

Like a meteor of metre Robbie Burns blazed a brief but ever reflected trail from 1759-96. From a poor farming background he managed to break into Edinburgh's literary world, but with fathering 13 or more children never had the income to match his ambitions, and took on a post as an exciseman.

He left a legacy of popular verse, a collection of 400 songs and a few volumes of best seller prose. He earned himself the title of 'The Caledonian Bard'.

Although he never ventured into England, he hurtled through an abundance of Scottish Hostelries and his influence has carried on into English Inns, especially on the 25th of January every year when eerie sounds emanate from many pubs. These are caused by bagpipes and 'BURNS NIGHT' is upon us along with haggises, neaps, tatties and wee drams. It is 'Och Aye the Noo!' time and can never be extinguished. It will return every year preceded by Hogmanay.

So here is our own Rapid Rabbie Burns Ale Trail.
In 1604 a mile north of the Borders village of Tweedsmuir a drover's inn was established. This also became a meeting place for covenanters. By Robbie Burns time it was known as The CROOK INN after the landlady who was known as Jean O' The Crook. Robbie knew her well and wrote 'Willie Wastie's Wife' sitting in the convivial atmosphere of her kitchen. The pub endured. John Buchan the thriller writer (39 Steps etc) was born nearby and when he reached knighthood status he took Tweedsmuir as his peerage name, and he would not have missed in popping in and partaking at the CROOK.

In the 1930's an Art Deco extension was added and the old kitchen dating from 1589 was later revamped as 'Willie Wastie's Kitchen'. Although tucked away the Pub was popular with walkers, wild life watchers and literary trailblazer fans. We say 'was', as the Pub was closed in 2006.

So now you must brace yourselves for some hard and horrible happenings. The CROOK closed due to being purchased by property developer JIM DOONAN who seems hell bent on turning the Pub into private houses or flats. He received the support of the local planning officer of the Scottish Borders. Despite this there is a battle going on and a campaign to save this sacred Pub. It is led by local ANDREW MASON who held a village meeting which has resulted in an Action Group. Due to new legislation enacted by The Scottish Parliament which gives communities the right to buy local amenities, the Group has managed to get Doonan's application rejected. He has appealed of course, but the battle is on. For the latest news go to http://www.savethecrook.org.uk. There are also details in the latest CAMRA GOOD BEER GUIDE 2010.

I feel we need a new Inn Sign for these terrible times. I suggest THE DEVELOPER'S HEAD. It should depict the severed head of one of these profiteers and heritage destroyers impaled on a spiked pole. The addition of the odd estate agent or dodgy councillor would be quite acceptable.

In 1788 ROBBIE BURNS was in full flow and stayed at The SELKIRK ARMS in The Old High Street, Kirkudbright, Dumfries & Gsllowsy where he left a souvenir in the form of the Selkirk Grace.

'Some hae meat and canna eat
And some wad eat that want it
But we hae meat and we can eat
Sae let the Lord be Thankit'.

We say 'full flow' but feel he may have been partaking somewhat liberally at the time with , but the Inn has always been proud that he graced them with such a memento.

This is now a Free House Hotel and you can 'hae eats' from snacks in the Public Bar to the full Haggis Experience in the Restaurant.

In the Selkirk region at St. Mary's Lock we have what was once a small waterside cottage inn TIBBIE SHIELS another Burn's favourite. It was named after the notorious landlady who ran it. She lived until 1878 having reached the ripe old age of 95. She must have had some tales to tell as anybody with a pen seemed to patronise her Pub. The list includes WALTER SCOTT, THOMAS CARLYLE, JAMES HOGG, THOMAS DE QUINCEY and ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.

The Pub has now expanded to a rather swish hotel which is nicely enhanced by the waterside setting.

The KIRKTON INN in Main Street, Dalrymple, East Ayrshire is another fine traditional example of the Scottish Pub hospitality favoured by Burns. It runs on the motto 'There are no strangers here, only friends who have never met'. Here you can have the warmth of open fires, drambuie, and if you wish the full Haggis experience. It is another Free House.

Robbie's favourite 'Howf' where he really left his mark is The GLOBE in the High Street in Dumfries. The entrance is tucked down a narrow side alley and once inside you are in a labrynth of snugs, nooks and corners all full of Burnsobilia. He even scratched verses on the windows with a diamond ring. In fact he left more than his mark. It was here he fell in love with barmaid Anna Park As if he didn't have enough children already she bore him a daughter. Tragically she died soon after and in an eulogy to her Burns wrote

'Yest're'en I had a pint of wine,
A place where body saw na;
Yest're'en lay on this breast o' mine,
The gowden locks o' Anna.'

The good news is that she may be the benevolent ghost that haunts the inn and these sort of things always add to the atmosphere. There is also the bedroom used by Robbie and Anna which has been used by guests. Furthermore Robbie added the orphaned daughter to his own large brood. We can't imagine how he coped with Hogmanay when children were allowed to demand cakes.

Well it's Auld Lang Syne time until we meet again.

ANYONE FOR TENNYS ?

O PLUMP HEAD-WAITER AT THE COCK,O WHICH I MOST RESORT,HOW GOES THE TIME?'TIS FIVE O'CLOCKGO FETCH A PINT OF PORT....

Will Waterproof's Lyrical Monologue 1842

Not quite what you might expect from a future Poet Laureate with a history of gloom and depression. This jingle was penned at The OLDE COCK in Fleet Street, London EC4. Now a tall thin Pub sandwiched between its neighbours resembling what could pass for a mock up of a prospective 17th century rocket ship.

The original COCK was destroyed in the great fire of London but a James 1st fireplace and a Grinling Gibbons overmantle were rescued. It was rebuilt and in 1668 Samuel Pepys recalls an enjoyable visit. In 1868 the Pub vanished under the hands of voracious Victorian developers- but by some miracle was rebuilt hopefully in the original style on the opposite side of the street. Amazingly the fireplace and mantel had been salvaged and were re-installed.

Now back to young ALFRED TENNYSON, born in Somerby, Lincs. son of a melancholic rector with a large family frequently reduced by death. Alfred was the 3rd surviving son and went to Louth grammar school and did well enough to reach Trinity College, Cambridge and winning a gold medal for poetry. In 1831 his father died and Alfred had to leave without a degree although he had some poems published.

In 1832 after a mauling by The Quarterly Review and the death of his closest friend Arthur Hallam, Tennyson lapsed into 'Ten Years Silence.'

In 1842 he came back with some revised work including 'The Lady of Shallot' and some new poems including 'The Vision of Sin'...Bitter Barmaid - Waning Fast !... These were published and well received - he was back in business and went so far as to marry an Emily Sellwood. This improved his demeanour no end and out came 'The Charge of the Light Brigade' and all sorts of popular poems. Although still abnormally shy with strangers he managed to accept the post of Poet Laureate.

There should still be The LORD ALFRED TENNYSON Pub in Louth, with verses on the beams but this is in memory to him. His favoured Pub in his old home patch was The WHITE HART at Tetford, Lincs. dating from 1520.

He would dine in this fine old inn which had in earlier years been graced by the presence of Dr. SAMUEL JOHNSON. You may still grace it with your own presence - it should hopefully survive the culling of pubs which our politicians wish to inflict upon us.

We now have to scud about a little as in his bid to escape people Tennyson hid behind a bushy black beard and long black hair and wore a wide-brimmed poet's hat. He didn't like to be noticed. He did not use pubs to seek attention. Mostly to shut himself secretly away. if possible. Now and then he would be spotted and when he visited The FALCON in Bude, Cornwall he has been listed along with Sir Henry Irving and The Prince of Russia as having visited. The impressive Coaching Inn dates from 1798 and is on the Breakwater Road overlooking the Inner Harbour. This was a famed wreckers coast and the Pub had a bar dedicated to this sort of thing.

By 1856 TENNYSON was engaged in his Arthurian Epic 'Idylls of The King' and took himself off to South Wales in the interests of research. For this he found himself a very good base - The HANBURY ARMS at Caerleon, Monmouthshire. This rambling high street Inn has always been high on the Pub Perfection route greatly helped by its setting. Dating from 1350 it had a Tudor makeover with windows overlooking the river and a Georgian refurbishment in 1726. It had its own brewery until the reign of William 2nd. There was also a magistrate's room.

Tennyson had his own bed and desk there and the Inn was most convenient for the 'Round Table Field' that he used for inspiration - now believed to be the site of a Roman amphitheatre. If so, it is the only one known in Britain. There is also a very ancient Norman tower. The Pub is one of the relatively few to have a Tennyson placque. The garden is also a delight.

Tennyson had homes in The Isle of Wight, and ended his days near Haslemere in Surrey, but here he kept behind closed doors in his home and was available only to invited guests.

In his prime he seemed to be popular at gatherings of the Literary Inn Crowd, who used Inns for private functions and dinners and we know not what. Possibly spillages but no leakages. I have this utterly absurd theory unsubstantiated by any facts or evidence whatsoever that in his prime and primed with a few jars Lord Alfred (yes he got his title) became the life and soul of the party.

'I know Lord Alf is a miserable old codger most of the time, but we have to invite him because you never know when he is going to dance on the table and sing bawdy songs. And when he hops around squeaking that Birdie thing he wrote - how does it go? WHAT DOES LITTLE BIRDIE SAY IN HER NEST AT PEEP OF DAY? - you'll laugh your socks off. Even Wordsworth gets the giggles.

SCOTT HITS THE SPOT

'THE ANCIENT AND NOW FORGOTTEN PASTIME OF HIGH JINKS'
Heart of Midlothian 1818.

Busy busy busy. Born in 1771 and bred in Edinburgh Walter grew up in the era when the city was a hotbed of literary and intellectual talents. Despite some form of infantile paralysis leaving him a little lame he was never one to stand still. He studied law and was called to the bar in 1792. Married a French woman in 1795 and by 1797 was paymaster and secretary for the Edinburgh Light Dragoons. In 1799 he was Deputy Sheriff of Selkirk.

Then it was off into the literary life with all the enthusiasm for romance and chivalry that made him such a popular storyteller. By 1820 he was a baronet and in 1826 almost bankrupt after a publishing venture went sadly wrong. He vowed to pay all his creditors and debts of somewhere around £114,000 himself which meant his output had to increase with the aid of the publishing firm of Constable. So Novels, Drama, Biographies, Histories, Poems, Essays. Articles and Ballads poured forth. Happily his popularity kept pace with production.

Did all this slow him down? Not at all - he entertained on a lavish scale in his baronial mansion at Abbotsford on the banks of the Tweed. This did not stop him from travelling and popping into Inns and Pubs as he visited contemporaries. So here are some literary croppings to fit in with Inns which still extend a welcome.

1805. This year Scott went to stay with William Wordsworth at Dove Cottage in Grasmere, Cumbria. Also there were Wordsworth's wife and sister, and because spiritual imbibing was low on the agenda Scott took to solitary strolls whereby he could totter into The SWAN for a for a quick tot. He got caught out when William hired a carriage from the SWAN early in the day, and the barman seeing Scott with the assembly enquired if he had come in for his 'usual' a little earlier than usual .

The SWAN is now a large flourishing place with Hotel Status in the midst of the tourist area. It is a Coaching Inn with a 300 year pedigree and I am sure there is a Wordsworth Chair there somewhere even if he never used it. There is however a small basic side bar for walkers with muddy boots. This is also the area for Wordsworthing.

Also in 1805 Walter Scott wrote 'LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL' using Nailsworth Castle in Brampton, Cumbria as a setting. In the town is The WHITE LION in High Cross Street.. The town has now been by-passed; but would Scott have bypassed it? It is fine old Hotel with the distinction of having a very large range of Malt Whiskies. There is also a Cumbrian Folk Festival in the town every July. So it is possibly where the Last Minstrel got laid.

It just so happens that a Joseph Strutt left an unfinished novel called Queenhoo Hall in which scenes are set in Danbury Essex. Scott was asked to write the last two chapters which he did in 1808 using The GRIFFIN in Danbury, Essex as a base. This led him in 1810 to finish his own novel 'WAVERLEY The Pub in the Main Road in his introduction. It did not become an Inn until 1744 but the building was in existence from the 1500s. The Pub thrives. It has gone through the 'Chef & Brewer' experience and being 'Punch Taverns Pubco' owned, and one hopes that a good number of historic artifacts have been retained

In 1813 Scott wrote 'THE BRIDAL OF TRIERMAIN' a poem about a quest by Sir Roland of Triermain for Gwyneth, a daughter of King Arthur who lay sleeping in a valley due to a spell by Merlin. The esteemed author was in the Lake District at the time staying at The ROYAL OAK in Station Road in Keswick in Cumbria, which was then called Cumberland. Originally an Elizabethan Inn but revamped in Georgian times to become a staging post for the Coaching Trade. It was popular with authors and has played host to DE QUINCEY, SHELLEY, SOUTHEY, WORDSWORTH, STEVENSON and TENNYSON.

Keswick is full of fine Pubs, the oldest of which is The GEORGE in St. John Street another Elizabethan Inn which became the principle Georgian Coaching Inn, and was also used by COLERIDGE, SOUTHEY and WORDSWORTH etc.

In 1817 Scott immortalised a double crossing protection racketeer as a romantic hero with 'ROB ROY'. In 1728 the real Robbin' Rob Macgregor knew he had got away with everything. Involvement in the Jacobite Rebellion on both sides, and robbing and raiding at will in between. He was captured and pardoned and died peacefully in 1734. He must be dancing in glee in the hereafter having been given the heroic Robin Hood makeover by Walter, which has been carried over into the film world where he was played by Richard Todd in 1954 and by Liam Nelson in 1995.

We don't know where Sir Walter went for his research, but the real red headed scallywag had a vantage point and look out post close to what could be the oldest Pub in Scotland The CLACHAN in Drymen, Stirlingshire. Rob should have known this small cottage style Pub in Main Street very well, if the legends are true, that it was owned by his sister.

In 1821 Scott had been in Kenilworth, Warwickshire, keeping a close eye on the castle for the background to his latest pot-boiler 'KENILWORTH'. His chosen Inn was The KINGS ARMS which may still have the four-poster bed he slept in. He might easily have chosen CLARENDON HOUSE a large ancient rambling structure in the Old High Street in which is incorporated the original CASTLE TAVERN from 1430 which in turn incorporates the oak tree around which it was built. Overall there should be something for everyone, low beams, mahogany panelling, restaurants, conference rooms, bedrooms, live music. It is now in a conservation area, and has all the opulence the actual castle lacks because it is in fact a ruin but just five minutes away. Or The CLARENDON ARMS, in the High Street opposite the castle, a traditional Pub with flagstone flooring.. Last and not least is The VIRGINS & CASTLE in the High Street This was once two separate Pubs, the QUEEN and the CASTLE which amalgamated centuries ago. We don't know when or where the virgins came from or what they are doing here. You will have to ask the Pub. There weren't any virgins there a few years ago when it was just The QUEEN & CASTLE and a Beefeater Pub for some time. It has nooks crannies and cask ales and hidden history.

Perhaps one should be allowed to sit on a castle wall and admire the view of the Pubs.

Its 1823 and Scott has published ST. RONANAN'S WELL inspired by a visit to RONAN'S HOTEL in Innerleithen in the Scottish Borders. The High Street Inn appears in the novel as The CROSS KEYS.. In 737 St. Ronan came to the Tweed valley in this vicinity and drove out the Devil. There is still a ceremony in July when schoolboys are handed staffs and engage in the sport of 'Cleiks the De'il' - in other words bashing the hell out of him. This activity is the origin of the word 'Cleikum'. Don't fall down the well if you come across it.

In 1827 Scott wrote the tale of ' THE TWO DROVERS'. They have a furious argument in a Pub, one wants to come to blows and punch the other one's lights out, but the one threatened disdains fisticuffs as he claims he is far too noble to sink to such depths. Instead he departs and treks many miles back home to fetch his dirk (you can see why he didn't normally carry it with him) as upon his return he stabs his adversary to death 'like a gentleman'.
So we have found The DROVERS INN in East Linton in Lothian as a good example of the type of inn that was used by Drovers. It has wooden floors, beams and half panelling, but in these enlightened times far too civilised to be a venue for knife crime.

We shall end up at The GORDON ARMS in Mountbenger, in Selkirk This was in full flow in the 1800's as a popular venue for Sir Walter Scott to hang out and meet his literary cronies. including Wordsworth and for a time James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd Poet whom Scott befriended until Hogg upset him and invitations abruptly ceased. In retaliation Hogg wrote 'THE DOMESTIC MANNERS AND PRIVATE LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT'. but these were not published until 1835 the year Hogg died , but Scott had expired in 1832 and further confrontation was avoided. Happily the Pubs where Scott sought inspiration flow ever onwards.

For Pub exploration Sir Walter Scott is your man. You would not get far with a Scott of The Antarctic Pub Crawl.

A NICE ROSIE GLOW

"NEVER TO BE FORGOTTEN, THAT FIRST LONG SECRET DRINK OF GOLDEN FIRE, JUICE OF THOSE VALLEYS AND OF THAT TIME, WINE OF WILD ORCHARDS, OF RUSSET SUMMER, OF PLUMP RED APPLES AND ROSIE'S BURNING CHEEKS."

In 1959 LAURIE LEE master of lyrical, evocative and nostalgic poetry and prose produced a childhood biography 'CIDER WITH ROSIE' which is still a popular classic of the genre.

It centres around the village of SLAD in rural Gloucester. Born in 1914 the memoirs begin from his arrival in the village at the age of three with his mother and assorted siblings.

The house where he grew up is now called Rosebank Cottage. Although Laurie left to fight in the Spanish Civil War in the 1930's and went on to a literary life including further travels, Slad always remained close to his heart and he was buried in the churchyard there. This is very fitting as opposite the church is the Pub he regarded as his local, THE WOOLPACK which still contains his favourite seat on a settle which now has a brass name plate. There are photos and mementoes and you should be able to buy signed copies of his books if they have not run out. It is also a Free House with three small bars and a downstairs games room. From a terrace at the rear you can take in the stupendous valley views.

From the stone built village pub you can also take circular Pub Walks. It is not compulsory to be seen clutching a copy of CIDER WITH ROSIE there should be maps and information available in the Pub. The WOOLPACK does not get a mention by name until near the end of the book when the Slad Choir Outing by charabanc assembles there for a trip to Weston Supermare and the seaside, which many of those in the village, especially the children, have never seen.

TWO HEADS ARE BETTER THAN ONE

"OLD ENGLAND LIVE FOREVER FOR THY INNS ARE MORE EXCELLENT THAN ARE PALACES ANYWHERE ELSE."
James Boswell 1765.

*GREEN MAN & BLACKS HEAD" John Street, Ashbourne, Derbyshire. Two Pubs for the price of one. Our story starts in 1710 with the installation of a new organ in the parish church. Musicians came from far and wide to give it a go complete with choirs, brass and strings. The opening was such a success it carried on in the evening with a dinner put on by the parish in the great parlour of The BLACKAMOOR'S HEAD. Here "They made a fine consort both of instrumental and vocall musick, and so concluded the musick of the day." Could this have been the first Jam Session?

By 1748 County Assizes were held here

In 1777 JAMES BOSWELL took the great DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON for a Pub lunch at The GREEN MAN in the same street. Boswell is well known as the sounding board, echo, friend, companion and ultimate biographer of the Great Man - but he was rather more than this and wrote seven lengthy journals of his own and was well travelled for the time. Born in Auchinleck, Ayr, Scotland his father was a Lord and a Judge. He also had great persuasive powers and managed not only to get JOHNSON, despite his avowed distaste for the Scots, not only to visit Scotland but to tour the Western Islands and the Hebrides, accounts of which have enriched travel literature. and history.

Meanwhile back at the Pub a curtseying landlady presented BOSWELL with an engraved visiting card with a depiction of the sign and the following effusive text which, BOSWELL kept and so we have a testimony of early marketing. 'M. Killingly's duty waits upon Mr. Boswell; is exceedingly obliged to him for this favour, whenever he comes this way, hopes for a continuance of the same. Would Mr. Boswell name the house to his extensive acquaintances. It would be a singular favour conferred on one who has it not in her power to make any other return but her most grateful thanks and sincere prayers for his happiness in time and in a blessed eternity.'

It must have worked as the Pub prospered and by 1802 the current landlord bought The Blackamoor's Head and amalgamated the two into becoming eventually the longest Pub name ever THE ROYAL GREEN MAN AND BLACKAMOOR'S HEAD COMMERCIAL AND FAMILY HOTEL. The Royal bit comes from when Queen Victoria dined there in her pub crawling days.

The Pub is also know for its gallows sign extending across the road. There are very few of this left and another project is to document them. There is also an intriguing carved Black Head sign with two faces. One smiling as you enter Ashbourne and the other scowling as you leave.

If the Nanny Brigade have not interfered ask about The Shrovetide Game. This is the old form of football - a scrum between the Up'ards and Down'ards and used to involve three miles of mayhem in the streets.

THREE MEN WENT TO ROW

"SHE WAS NUTS ON PUBLIC-HOUSES, WAS ENGLAND'S VIRGIN QUEEN. THERE'S SCARCELY A PUB OF ANY ATTRACTIONS WITHIN TEN MILES OF LONDON THAT SHE DOES NOT SEEM TO HAVE LOOKED IN AT, OR STOPPED AT, OR SLEPT AT, SOME TIME OR ANOTHER."
Three Men In a Boat.

In 1874 at the age of 15 JEROME K. JEROME had lost both parents and was working as a railway clerk, living in lodgings. He found he could supplement his meagre wage with some spare time acting, and his first writing attempt was 'On Stage and Off' which only netted him £5.

In 1888 he married but was by then writing instalments of 'Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow' for Home Chimes Magazine. This was followed in 1889 by THREE MEN IN A BOAT. (To Say Nothing of The Dog.)This was a resounding hit, is irreverent and silly humour, and is still in print. There is no plot. Three young men, the author, George and Harris plus Montmorency the dog, take a trip down the Thames in a hired skiff. There is no plot, just anecdotes including the perils of camping. To a good extent it is pubbing by boat which is in our estimation one of life's exceptional pleasures, as riverside Pubs tend to stay put.

It is true Thames side pubs are more swish and upmarket than yesteryear - Wear boaters and striped blazers, and parasoles for the ladies. Arrive by water. If you can't afford a boat build a raft or come in a bathtub. Just remember Berkshire is pronounced 'BARKshire'.

As usual in works of 'fiction' writers choose real people and Pubs and the flamboyant Harris was actually Carl Hentschel, and George was George Wingrove, great friends with who Jerome had spent many Sundays sculling and skulking down the river.

With many asides they pack and plan bearing in mind the need for refreshments as required. As Jerome states "Harris always does know a place round the corner where you can get something brilliant in the drinking line. I believe if you met Harris up in Paradise (supposing such a thing likely) he would immediately greet you with: 'So glad you've come old fellow; I've found a nice place round the corner here, where you can get some really first class nectar.' "

It is time to make a start, and our friends hire a double sculled skiff at Kingston - and it is our obligation to meander after them and pause for reflection at existing Inns that get a mention. It is possible we may miss one or two as the text is littered with anecdotes of previous happenings like drifting backwards, or swirling in eddies, plus of course the hilarious camping episodes.

It takes time and we have reached Old WINDSOR "A shady road dotted here and there with dainty little cottages runs by the bank up to THE BELLS OF OUSELEY, a picturesque inn as most up-river inns are, and a place " where a very good glass of ale may be drunk-so Harris says; and on a matter of this kind you can take Harris's word." This is a long low rambling Pub and has for some years been one of the Harvester Chain, which has a set menu restaurant. In these days of changing fortunes we assume it still has, and cask ales are usually available - but we don't have a recent 'Harris test' update.

At DATCHET the intrepid trio recall an earlier river trip when they arrived on an August Bank Holiday. They shilly shallied over silly details and decided against The STAG because Jerome wanted a pub with honeysuckle over the door and they only had wisteria, and Harris took objection to the colour of a man's boots. So they went to MANOR HOUSE and Harris again did not like the look of a man with red hair. Then they realised there were no more Inns and they wanted to stay overnight. So it was back to The STAG.. Alas it was now overflowing and even the billiard table had been booked for three occupants.

The ROYAL STAG on The Green has staggered through a few changes. It started as The FIVE BELLS before it came The ROYAL STAG, and in 1796 became The HIGHFLYER then just The FLYER and then back to The ROYAL STAG. It is in a very popular spot and has had many famous visitors, many from the Showbiz World.

At The MANOR HOUSE the situation was much the same. The landlady laughed and told them they were the fourteenth party she had turned away. Dating back in parts to Tudor times it still continues to be a favoured venue.

At MARLOW in Buckinghamshire they left the boat by the bridge and put up for the night at the CROWN in the High Street but make no further comment. The Pub seems to have survived quietly until recent years and was taken over by entrepreneurs who did their best to destroy it by turning it into a club like venue with doormen and a policy of refusing entry to anyone who appeared to be over forty years of age. Entrepreneur is not a real British word, nor should it be. It is a definition most frequently used to mask the activities of a greedy grasping opportunist with no regard or interest in heritage or history; only profit. This sort of thing affected JEROME. A million copies of his best seller were sold in America, which did not recognise British Copyright, so the author did not receive a single penny. We feel there should be a Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to old and loyal pubs. Sadly like faithful dogs they cannot choose who owns them.

Then there was an application to change the name of the Pub to The Market. This did stir up a lot of anger. We don't know what negotiations went on since but our last check revealed the pub as now belonging to SMITHHOTELS a somewhat swish and upmarket Hotel Group, and still The CROWN Hotel.

Back into Berkshire and WARGRAVE where JEROME records "The GEORGE & DRAGON boasts a sign, painted on one side by Leslie R.A., and on the other by Hodgson of that ilk.. Leslie has depicted the fight; Hodgson has imagined the scene, after the fight-George, the work done, enjoying his pint of beer".

The full title is ST. GEORGE & DRAGON and it is in the High Street but on the river bank with moorings as with most of these pubs. It has stunning views over the Thames Valley and such refinements as a decked patio. It is quite a large Pub and inside has the much beloved bare boards and beams that go so well with British beer. There is a local regatta in early August. What more can you want - apart from a boat and your own chosen crew?

JEROME goes into raptures about SONNING and as usual picks a High Street Pub to commend. "If you stop, put up at the BULL behind the church. It is the veritable picture of an old country inn, with green, square courtyard in front, where on seats beneath the trees, the old men group of an evening to drink their ale and gossip over village politics; with low quaint rooms and latticed windows, and awkward stairs and winding passages." It still has a local bar, and is full of character dating from the 1400's. Popularity and modern traffic obviously impinge upon the tranquillity of the past but drinking in history is far better than sinking in history. Although in the distant past it has given way to guzzling and feasting on a grand scale when the Bishop of Salisbury dropped in with a full retinue including men-at-arms that had to be housed in the stables.

At PANGBOURNE "The quaint little SWAN inn stands, must be as familiar to the habitues of the Art Exhibitions as it is to its own inhabitants." Here we can pop in another author as this was where KENNETH GRAHAME drafted and drank and dreamt up the ideas for WIND IN THE WILLOWS as he watched people 'Messing about in boats'. Ratty, Toad, Mole and Badger did not reach publication until 1908.

On reaching STREATLEY they decide leave the boat by the bridge and to lunch at The BULL 'Much to Montmorency's satisfaction'. This Pub is another golden oldie found opposite the B4009 turning to Goring. They stay two days at Streatley for washing to be done as their attempts to use the river failed. Here there is much reminiscing about village inns and fishing with a great tale about a trout in a glass case in a pub at Wallingford. Sadly the Pub is not named. Angling pubs will feature. IZAAK WALTON is on our list.

JEROME almost finishes in the Pub where the idea for the book is presumed to have started as he poured draughts and pored over his drafts at The BARLEY MOW at Clifton Hampden in Oxfordshire. Here sentimentally to the verge of whimsy take over. After raptures of how pretty the village is we get "If you stay the night on land at Clifton you cannot do better than put up at The BARLEY MOW. It is without exception, I should say, the quaintest, most old-world inn up the river. It stands on the right of the bridge, quite away from the village. Its low-pitched gables and thatched roof and latticed windows give it quite a story-book appearance, while inside it is even more once-upon-atimeyfied."

They struggle on to Oxford. There is rain. Eventually there is a unanimous decision to return to civilisation and they take a train to Paddington.

THAT DRY FEELING

"A VERY MERRY, DANCING, DRINKING,
LAUGHING, QUAFFING AND UNTHINKING TIME"
Secular Masque.

Were you in the vicinity of The LAMB & FLAG in Rose Street in Covent Garden on the evening of 18th of December 1679 ? If so did you witness any violent or untoward behaviour ? A poet was set upon and attacked by ruffians as he left the premises and entered the side alley by the pub.

The Nightwatch would be pleased to receive any information in strict confidence even though there is not much we can do about it now except have a good laugh.

The victim covered in bruises, swellings and contusions will recover. His name is JOHN DRYDEN and he is well versed in scurrilous rhyming attacks on those whom he regards as inferior playwrights and poets. He is of the opinion that hired thugs were set upon him in cowardly retribution for his verbal abuse - proving that words can hurt. Everyone knows that his main literary rivals are The Duke of Rochester and Thomas Shadwell but they are not patrons of The LAMB & FLAG, so we as the local Nightwatch know better than to become involved. Anyway we've already spent the bribery money.

DRYDEN'S quill was never still and he also produced plays, translations, criticisms, songs, dialogues, masques, operas, prose, history, dedications and odes and also became poet laureate. In 1808 Sir Walter Scott brought out a complete edition of Dryden's work. In 18 volumes. We are talking volumes here, not just paltry paperbacks. Was there a free wheelbarrow to go with each complete set purchased ?

As for the Pub itself the bright frontage belies the fact that it was first licensed in 1623 and parts of the building date back to Tudor origins. It was originally The COOPERS ARMS and missed by the Fire of London so is one of London's Oldest Inns. The alley way of the mugging is still there and the area went into decline in the next century when it was referred to as 'The Holy Land' - certainly not for religious regions. The Pub became known as the 'Bucket of Blood' when it became a venue for bare knuckle prizefights.

By 1829 there was a Metropolitan Police Force, but the area took some time to become respectable Covent Garden with its market and an Opera House.

Nowadays it is a very atmospheric Free House, with high backed settles and a boarded floor. The only fights now are to get a seat or force your way to the bar in the Tourist Season. You must curb the desire to sit on tourists. Upstairs is a the Dryden Bar where it may be quieter and food is available. You should not be set upon by scoundrels in the alley outside, but you may be almost crushed to death by overflow drinkers when the pub is in full flow.