Pots and Pens

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QUARLIFICATIONS

'The worlds an Inne, and I her guest,
I eate, I drinke, I take my reste;
My Hostesse Nature, doth deny me
Nothing, wherewith she can supply me;
Where having stay's awhile I pay
Her lavish bills, and goe my way.'

(FRANCIS QUARLES - 1592 - 1644)

Born in the region of Romford, Essex he became, after a Cambridge education a Poet and a Lawyer. Life took off when QUARLES met CHARLES (The 1^st) and wrote pamphlets in his support, and then became part of a Royal Entourage for the then Princess Elizabeth when she married the Elector Palatine - whoever he was.

Francis belonged apparently to the metaphysical school, whatever that is, and wrote in an Elliptical, Colloquial or Horatory style and in 1635 his 'Emblems' were very popular with such of the populance that could actually read. And you could always try his 'Enchiridion' of 1641 - a book of aphorisms.

n 1639 he became Chronologer to the City of London, but what this entailed it is difficult to say as when Oliver Cromwell started seizing power he seized all Quarles property and destroyed any manuscripts he came across. In fact Quarles departure from the Inne of Life was more than he could pay and his wife and about nine children were left in utter poverty.

So far our metaphysical and chronological search has only come up with the existence of a Quarles Park Road in Chadwell Heath which is more, or maybe less, in Essex.. There was, and hopefully still is a Pub called The CROOKED BILLET there. A detached building overlooking farmland. If you can ever find it the building with its tall chimneys seems to be of some antiquity. We cannot at this stage give a metaphysical or even metaphorical report as it was, and maybe still is up for sale and we have no further news of its fate or history at present. We prefer many Inns containing many worlds rather than the Monopolisation idea anyway. Who wants to be locked in one local?

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FLORID FLORRIE

'Come, come, come and make eyes at me,
Down at The Old Bull and Bush;
Come, come, drink some port wine with me,
Down at The Old Bull and Bush.
Hear the little German Band
Just let me hold your hand, dear
Do, do come and have a drink or two,
Down at The Old Bull and Bush.'

Verse from the famous song first sung by Florrie Forde in 1903 featuring The OLD BULL & BUSH at North End Way, Hampstead Heath, London NW3.

This Pub had already been on the map for a long time. In 1645 it was a farmhouse in a hamlet called Wildwood Corner which later became the residence of WILLIAM HOGARTH the artist. By 1721 it had become an Inn but HOGARTH seemed to still be in evidence if not residence as he breakfasted and entertained his contemporaries there. In fact he had planted and painted a yew tree bower in the gardens which could make him first Pubscape artist.

Such artistic luminaries as DAVID GARRICK, JOSHUA REYNOLDS and LAURENCE STERNE joined him and THOMAS GAINSBOROUGH was most impressed with cream in the milk and the tableware. ' ...and what a tablecloth! Damask - Dutch Damask by the Lord!.

Over the years Hampstead Heath became public property and when Prime Minister Pitt moved there to retire and expire gawpers would come to try and catch a glimpse. With no television or cameras celebrity seekers really had to seek. He would have stayed well clear of the Pub.

The Pub stayed popular with the literati, CHARLES LAMB, CHARLES KEENE up to DICKENS & Co. and well into the 1800's.By 1871 an enterprising landlord Harry Humphries got himself a music and dancing licence and employed a four piece German Band. The 'Good Old Days' of Music Hall and Entertainment had arrived.

In 1879 FLORRIE FORDE arrived from Australia. A hefty buxom 'belt it out' songstress who was amazingly popular and both she and the song featuring THE OLD BULL AND BUSH arrived live at the Pub in 1903..

It has been popular ever since. Possibly too popular. Between 1921 and 1923 it was renovated and largely rebuilt and most of the gardens given over to parking for the new fangled charabancs and motorised vehicles enabled more and more folk to seek out Hampstead Heath.

This is now a fashionable but more trendy area and there are quite a few Pubs, but the OLD BULL & BUSH is still well worth singing for.

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GAY

ALL TO BEGGARY

'GIVE ME A BUMPER, FILL IT UP:
SEE HOW IT SPARKLES IN THE CUP;
O HOW I SHALL REGALE !
CAN ANY DRINK TASTE THIS DIVINE'
AND THEN COMPARE RUM, BRANDY, WINE.
OR AUGHT WITH NAPPY ALE ?'
John Gay 1685 - 1732

Ever since the word 'gay' was hi-jacked by those of a certain sexual persuasion we have had to forfeit much of our literary heritage. I remember a Pub called The GAY HIGHLANDER rapidly changing its name before or around 1970. And who would sing 'A Batchelor Gay Am I' these days with carefree masculine abandon?

In his time JOHN GAY was a 'Bit of a Gay Dog' in the full blooded parlance of the time and his best remembered accomplishment was THE BEGGAR'S OPERA of 1728. This was produced by John Rich at Lincolns Inn Fields where with 69 songs it ran for 62 nights. One could say it was the First Hit Musical. Reverting to the journalist review of the time ' It made Gay rich and Rich gay'.

Over the years the work has been re-performed over the years with much reconstructions and revisions. In 1928 it became Brecht-Weill's THE THREEPENNY OPERA. Louis Armstrong turned Macheath the highwayman into 'MACK THE KNIFE' for a vocal rendition.

Very briefly Macheath is a highwayman and has two lovers - Lucy Peacham, an informant's daughter and Polly Lockit a warder's daughter. With a choice like this it is not surprising that he ends up in notorious Newgate Gaol. He is helped to escape by one of his loves.

Both a romp and a satire it upset the establishment, and prime minister Pitt banned a sequel called 'Polly' being performed. This ensured the printed version became a best seller.

GAY was never one to miss out on good times and another quote is not amiss

'FILL EVERY GLASS, FOR WINE INSPIRES US,
AND FIRES US
WITH COURAGE, LOVE AND JOY,
WOMEN AND WINE SHOULD LIFE EMPLOY.
IS THERE OUGHT ELSE ON EARTH DESIROUS ?'

He carried on to the very end with his own epitaph :-

'LIFE IS A JEST; AND ALL THINGS SHOW IT,
I THOUGHT SO ONCE; BUT NOW I KNOW IT.'

With his long running Opera he must have known his way around Lincoln's Inn, which is one of the Inns of Court. Now these are not inns in the Pub sense but places where lawyers study, practise and retain chambers. They go back to Medieval times when Inns could be just lodging houses and meeting halls. Even today barristers have to be admitted to one of the 'Inns of Court' before they can practise, and must attend a number of elegant dinners before they can be 'Called to the Bar'. Again this is not the sort of bar one might have in mind .

The 'Sober as a Judge' terminology is also misleading and the feasting and drinking that our 'Learned Friends' indulge in seems to be 'A Law unto Itself'.

John Gay must have taken notes of how the law worked for details of Macheath's sentencing and with his zest for enjoying congenial quaffing must have noticed backing onto the Courts of Justice a Pub in Carey Street called THE SEVEN STARS. Although there is no documented evidence I deem it impossible that he could have passed by many times without a quick sip at the very least. It was in the right place at the right time, having been just far enough West to have missed The Great Fire.

It started life in 1602, and became popular with Dutch sailors in times when trading was good and the name is said to represent the Seven Provinces of the Netherlands.

It has survived the centuries well, and remained a splendid small local. Long and narrow inside with low ceilings it is mostly one long bar with a small snug, but gained another small area when the Wig Shop for barristers next door was incorporated. It has also retained a collection of wigs. Toilets are at the top of a very old and narrow Elizabethan staircase.

It has a decor of film posters with legal themes and caricatures by SPY who produced full page colour plates for Vanity Fair magazine between 1869 and 1913, entitled 'Men of Distinction' which included many Barristers and Judges.

It is a very busy Pub throughout the week, almost bursting at the beams with barristers and members of the legal profession, and journalists following current court cases, and there are times when the very pavement outside becomes crowded. However the good news is that it is one of the few Pubs in the Temple Area that opens at weekends when good beer and sensible food can be enjoyed in seated comfort, but without the buzz of eavesdropping.

There are rumours that the Pub actually belongs to Tom Paine, a cat who sometimes wears a white ruff and keeps a watchful eye on all proceedings.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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PREDJUDICE & PERSUASION

'SHE BELIEVED HE HAD BEEN DRINKING TOO MUCH OF MR. WESTON'S GOOD WINE.'
'Emma'.

As the seventh child of a country parson JANE AUSTEN born in 1775, knew the world she was writing about. Within the narrow confines of a genteel existence where there always seemed to be too many young women competing for too few wealthy suitors. Always living in hope matrimony would remove them from a life of scheming and bickering.

Her amazing wit in a world removed from violent behaviour could be quite caustic. She could wield her pen like a scalpel to reveal underlying emotions.

Her six major novels have entertained generations and are still all in print and used for seemingly never ending Television adaptions.

So we have added 2 starters - HISTORY OF ENGLAND a very early piece of work - more or less a spoof I am told never having seen a copy.
Then LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP from the 1790's
SENSE AND SENSIBILITY Published 1811
PRIDE AND PREDJUDICE Published 1813
MANSFIELD PARK in 1814
EMMA in 1816
NORTHANGER ABBEY Published Posthumously in 1818
PERSUASION Also in 1818 - Jane died in 1817 in Winchester.

Now we digress. Pubology is a relaxed and informal mission. We seldom set out seeking culture and history in a methodical manner - It comes to us. Enlightenment through Inns. Or as I like to call it Innlightenment. Not forgetting the entertainment element.

So a year or so ago (My own history is incredibly vague), I took a train in the company of Dr. Kludge to Southampton to have a sip around. First we had to brave the seemingly never ending shopping conurbation they call West Quay Retail Park. JANE AUSTEN would have fainted in horror. In her days a Park was a place of greenswards, wooded walks, perhaps a stream or river. Somewhere pleasurable. But then they did not have cars to park. We coped with the horror manfully fighting our way through hordes of zombies shopping till they dropped. We caught the odd glimpse of a piece of old far away town wall built to keep intruders out. Mumbling zombies were of no use. There were no pubs. Eventually we found a causeway that led up to the town wall enabling us to seek refuge behind it.. The defences were not in order - there were no cannons or cauldrons of boiling lead in the embrasures provided. "Is it all too late?" groaned Dr. Kludge. "Don't look down, look up - we need a church spire or a sign" was my out of breath response.

"Yes ! " Dr. Kludge seized my arm. "Up there - it looks like a timber framed building too !" We hastened towards it. "Please Lord don't let it be an estate agent's sign." It was a grey sort of day but a gleam shone forth on timber framing and herringbone brickwork, and a substantial pictorial sign informed us we had reached The BOSUN'S LOCKER which was indeed a Pub. We had also run into JANE AUSTEN as a plaque on the wall informed us 'JANE'S HOME FROM 1807 TO 1809 WAS SITED HERE IN CASTLE SQUARE. THE HOUSE WAS RENTED FROM THE MARQUIS OF LANSDOWNE WHO LIVED OPPOSITE IN HIS MOCK-GOTHIC CASTLE. THE AUSTEN'S GARDEN STRETCHED BACK TO THE TOWN WALLS, AFFORDING EXTENSIVE VIEWS OF THE NEW FOREST. AT THAT TIME THE RIVER TEST, AT HIGH TIDE, REACHED THE BASE OF THE WALLS.'

Was it open ? Yes - we fought to get inside. Seeing our interest an over zealous barman with a Hampshire country drawl tried to persuade us this was actually Jane Austen's house. "Yew go in that bar over there an' that was 'er drawrin' room.' And there was a fine little bar furnished in period style. She wasn't in of course. A fascinating pub though. I had to stop Dr. Kludge performing on the pianoforte. Fortunately it was locked. He has a thing about keyboards.

I tried to find any history of the Pub, and what it was originally called as the name seemed too new and contrived. There was an old painting on one wall where only the name Strongs was legible. This was the name of an old brewery still in existence not too many years ago. I know once upon a time there was a Pub from Jane's time called THE JUNIPER BERRY in the vicinity but very much doubt that this was it. Southampton does not seem to have much interest in it's historic pubs but it does have some gems and listed buildings which until now have been protected from the development vandals.

We had a very busy day in Southampton and made further acquaintance with Jane in the High Street where Coaching Inns manage to survive hemmed in between the same high street shops, banks and estate agents and Cafes found in every High Street everywhere. Sometimes it's only when I can find an Inn that I remember what town I am actually in. And you can't miss The DOLPHIN. Parts of it date from 1454. An early landlord was Edward Wilmott who became Mayor and M.P. for Southampton. By 1582 Sir Gilbert dined there whilst planning England's World Colonies. In 1635 Archbishop Laud decided it was just the venue for his prestigious Ecclesiastical Commission. By 1648 something a little lighter, John Taylor 'The Water Poet' visited no doubt to let flow some watery verses. From1759 Edward Gibbon used it frequently when he served in the Hampshire Militia. In the 1760's structural changes took place and the Georgian facade was added with the amazing large upper storey bow windows still there today. And then, the moment you have all been waiting for the assembly room was used as a ballroom from 1785 and JANE AUSTEN came often, usually with her mother. There are reports that on one occasion Jane danced the night away with an Italian gentlemen, but by the final waltz he did not come up to scratch and she was not swept away.
There is of course more DOLPHIN history since Jane, but the joy of Pubology is that one always has an excuse to return.

Jane nearly did marry a clergyman, but had second thoughts. One can almost read them. 'Oh no I shall have to have six daughters and the whole sad saga of weddings for wealth will start again. Merciful heavens - No ! No! No!'

Her last three novels were written in Chawton, a Hampshire village where her House in Winchester Road is preserved as a monument for visitors and fans but you need to check when it actually open. No such problems with The GREYFRIAR opposite her House. This fine village Pub is open from 11am 7 days a week until closing time presumably 11pm. Once it was three ancient cottages from the 1500's. Changes occurred in the 1860's when one became a beer shop and another a grocery, and in 1894 all were amalgamated into a Pub. Who chose the name GREYFRIAR and why is not known but it is everything a freehouse village Pub should be with every Pubology comfort. As Jane said 'One half of the world cannot understand the pleasures of the other.' I'll drink to that.

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CRANKNUTSFORD

"WE WERE NONE OF US MUSICAL THOUGH MISS JENKYNS BEAT TIME, OUT OF TIME, BY WAY OF APPEARING TO BE SO"
Cranford.

We now have MRS. GASKELL - daughter of a part time Unitarian Minister born in 1810 and brought up by an aunt in Knutsford.. She married - wait for it - a Unitarian Minister Mr. Gaskell and had four daughters herself, also a son who died in infancy.

She was a friend of CHARLOTTE BRONTE and wrote her biography, but mostly she is known for CRANFORD a work which put her in touch with CHARLES DICKENS as it first appeared in instalments in 'Household Words'. It was written in from 1851 - 53, and follows the social decorum and twitterings of a group of middle aged ladies and the goings on in the village of Cranford for which she used the village of Knutsford in Cheshire for inspiration.

An occasional venue for her characters is the Great Parlour of The GEORGE inn where they could have musical concerts or play cards. This is now The ROYAL GEORGE because it later had a visit from Princess Victoria. A coaching Inn in Kings Street it has a very good pedigree as Sir Walter Scott used to pop in when travelling to his homestead in Abbotsford. In earlier times it receives a very good write up in The TORRINGTON DIARIES of John Byng in 1790 where he describes the Inn as a 'good one, the stable is likewise good' and then goes into raptures over the cold viands and accommodation. He also enthuses over the assembly rooms and tea rooms of spacious grandeur where none but gentility were admitted.

Also in King Street is The ANGEL which also has a mention in Cranford. The sign should in fact be a mermaid, as it came from the crest of the ancient Mere family Coat of Arms.

This 1700's Coaching Inn has always been at the centre of Knutsford life, and once held timber auctions, and entered horses for local races. 'Two to one on Cranford !'

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THE GOODLY PUBBE GUIDE 1617

"THE WORLD AFFORDS NOT SUCH INNS AS ENGLAND HATH, EITHER FOR GOOD OR CHEAP ENTERTAINMENT AFTER THE GUESTS OWN PLEASURE, OR FOR HUMBLE ATTENDANCE ON PASSENGERS, YEA, EVEN IN VERY POOR VILLAGES"

Thus wrote FYNES MORYSON in 1617. He was an early travel correspondent who hailed from Lincolnshire. Today he would most likely be working for a Travel Publishing Company.

Born in 1566 he was two years after Shakespeare. Whereas Will never left England, not even a day trip to France, Fynes was granted a special licence in 1569 to travel in Germany, Holland, Denmark, Poland and Italy. An early form of passport. Was it issued by Lord Burghley ? who lived and had extensive properties in Stamford and Lincolnshire and was advisor to Elizabeth 1st..

Fynes certainly used his licence and wrote an itinerary of his 'Ten Yeeres Travell' in which English Inns are always beyond compare. no matter how far afield he went. As Pub Guides these days are out of date in a year what could possibly be of interest left from 1617 ? You would be surprised.

For a start Stamford in Lincolnshire was and still is a gateway to the North and Moryson must have been familiar with it. There are still around 500 protected buildings in the town including Coaching Inns, the most famous of which is The GEORGE with its gallows sign stretching across the road. Forty coaches a day used to rumble past. Now it is more like forty cars a minute. There would be more but sets of traffic lights slow things down, but hardly enough to admire the frontage of this ancient inn, which dates back to the days of the Knights Templar. The main block as seen today was built in 1597 by the afore mentioned Lord Burghley who understood well the importance of Inns. So very well established by 1617.

Over the ensuing years since 1630 when Moryson made his last journey to another world The GEORGE has flourished. Charles 1st dropped in in 1645, and many after the Duke of Cumberland in 1745 and just about anybody with business up North. Obviously Sir Walter Scott would not pass by without dropping in for a drop And the fattest man in England 52 stone Daniel Lambert did not so much as drop in as take up residence and a livelihood by displaying himself for money. Not for too long as he died at the age of 39 in 1809. You can still see his portrait . Since when the flow of visitors has been endless, and the sumptuous trappings inside behind the thick traffic proof walls and a back garden still make it a favourite with Pub Guides.

Now due to one of those quirks of fate which permeate Pubology we make no apology for adding a stop press update. In the very year of 1617 Stamford was graced with the presence of a Bell Foundry set up by one Tobias Norris in the old building in St. Pauls Street already over 300 years old. Surely Moryson would not have passed by such an attraction. Not if he knew it was to become an amazing Pub in 2006. What the building was used for after bell founding foundered we have no idea until 1952 when it was taken over by the RAF Association as a Club Headquarters. And now it is The TOBIE NORRIS a wonderful Grade II listed Pub which keeps winning awards. It is not cluttered with posters and advertisements and not a Gastro Pub, as they specialise in pizzas, atmosphere and cask ales. They have won the English Heritage Design Award for 2007, and were a CAMRA Pub of the year for that area in 2008 and as I wrote they are finalists for a trade magazine. Who says they don't make Pubs like this any more ? My only criticism is that they could do with a good pictorial sign rather than the squidgy plain board with not very good lower case lettering.

Well, we could spend a lot more time in Stamford but we are supposed to be on the move so lets head North and see what comes up on our itinerary. Ah yes - Grantham another good place to halt awhile. Here in the High Street is The ANGEL & ROYAL. It did not receive the Royal addition un til 1866 when The Prince of Wales of that time visited, although King John had lodged there in 1213. The entrance and archway were added in the reign of Edward III and heads of King Edward and Queen Phillipa are carved on the hood moulding. Then in the 1400's the front of the Inn had a makeover, and a carved and gilded angel above the gateway holds a crown.

The room above the gateway was used by Richards III to seal the fate of the Duke of Buckingham, and in 1633 Charles 1st visited. Then of course it went on to become a very important Coaching and Posting Inn, so it has been in both previous and later editions of Goodly Pub Guides, and is still doing so.

In Castlegate we have a Pub with a living sign - The BEEHIVE which dates from 1550 and if you look up you will see the sign is a real beehive containing real bees. How long this and previous colonies have been in existence we don't know as early issues of Goodly Pubbe Guides have probably been used as firelighters. Someone must have noticed a bee in their beer or perhaps not. We have not found any early complaints registered anywhere.

We feel that for too long we have neglected the humble thatched village inns which also evoked a very warm response from Moryson. I see you are thinking there won't be one of those nearby that is still going strong from before 1617. Wrong again. We notice there is one just over the border in Leicestershire. Its at the top of the High Street in the village of Enderby. The NEW INN. Well it was in 1549. It is thatched, it has splendid victuals and refreshments, and such old style entertainment as a skittle alley. Who could ask for anything more ? Try Everards the Leicestershire Family Brewery which was founded in 1849 as this became their first tied house. And you may still sample their prize winning beers.

So you see what a monumental task compiling a 1617 guide is. We have only covered two towns in Lincolnshire and one village in Leicestershire. We haven't anywhere near covered these two counties on Moryson's home patch let alone the multitude of so far remaining hostelries in another 40 counties. We are however living in hard times. We seem to have in 2009 an unelected Government which seems to be doing its utmost to destroy our Pubs. We don't have much else left of our heritage. Best to keep the Coaching Inns for when we run out of fuel for cars.

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WUTHERING DEPTHS

" 'I ALWAYS PREFER YOUR HOME BREWED TO ANYTHING ELSE. NOW THIS IS THE THING !' CRIED HE, POURING OUT A GLASS OF THE SAME IN A LONG STREAM, SKILFULLY DIRECTED FROM THE GLASS TO THE TUMBER, SO AS TO PRODUCE MUCH FOAM WITHOUT SPILLING A DROP; AND HAVING SURVEYED IT FOR A MOMENT OPPOSITE THE CANDLE HE TOOK A DEEP DRAUGHT, AND THEN SMACKED HIS LIPS, DREW A LONG BREATH AND REFILLED HIS GLASS"
The Tenant of Wildfell Hall - Anne Bronte.

The 'Wild, Melancholy and Elevating' Brontes. Such amazing talent amidst such doom laden misfortune.

The Reverend Patrick Bronte a widower with six daughters and a son was rector of HAWORTH an East Yorkshire weaving town set amidst wild desolate moors.
His eldest daughter was CHARLOTTE born in 1816 who was the authoress of JANE EYRE..
The next in line for fame was EMILY born 1818 with WUTHERING HEIGHTS and lastly ANN born 1820 with THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL. Two other daughters Maria and Elizabeth died before adult hood or who knows what further genius could have been in the pipeline..

Vicars always seemed to be inundated with daughters in those days. If they could not become teachers or governesses or be married off it seems they went in for the new fangled craze of women writing novels. Often under masculine names as it would never catch on.

A fire and brimstone aunt Elizabeth Branwell assisted poor Patrick, but she never managed to quell the sisters with the fear of God. Patrick also had a son whom he named BRANWELL born in 1817 but he went off the rails early on. He failed as an artist, had a try at tutoring but didn't do very well and went to work as a railway clerk. He was dismissed for negligence within a year. No surprising as he spent most of his time in The BLACK BULLin Main Street where he drank heavily and also had an opium habit. In those days it was known as laudanum and sold as a nerve tonic by chemists. He had one last go at tutoring but became involved with a Mrs. Robinson, his employers wife. Disaster After this total decline set in and he was dead at 31.

Shortly after his funeral in 1848 Emily joined him with one of her own and may just have been in time to see WUTHERING HEIGHTS in print as it was not published until 1847. Anne was next in 1849, and Charlotte hung on until 1855. The Pub however is still going strong and is one of the attractions for tourists after a visit to the Bronte Museum in the Old Parsonage nearby.. Unlike Branwell the BLACK BULL was built for long life and endurance, dating back to somewhere in the 1400's it is of very solid construction. It has obviously been much refurbished and extended since Branwell's time but retains much character despite a heavy influx of tourists at times. Branwell's chair should be in there somewhere.

Charlotte not only hung on but wrote 'In late years an abundant shower of curates has fallen upon the North of England.' She went on to actually marry a vicar but did not live long enough to supply him with a set of daughters.
Amidst the tourist trappings Haworth manages to keep to hold it's own identity of solid stolid Yorkshire stone buildings and a cobbled Main street and KEIGHLEY & NORTH VALLEY RAILWAY for those who want to let off steam.

The Pubs are very much part of HAWORTH'S identity, with attractive Yorkshire stone and beamed interiors much in evidence. At the tope of Main Street is The OLD WHITE LION a good 300 years old coaching inn it was also used as a Meeting House and used in this capacity by PATRICK BRONE.

Also in Main Street is The FLEECE a three-storey Coaching Inn which is, we hope still used by the Town Brass Band.

Then we have The KINGS ARMS Church Street dating back to the 1600's where a Manorial Court was held upstairs whilst the cellar was used as a mortuary.

There should be an OLD SUN amongst the stone inns, and no doubt a few more, but a notable Old -Comer is HAWORTH OLD HALL in Sun Street. a magnificent Tudor Manor House with a nail studded door. Within it is very impressive, and as it now has a Pub licence you can drink in history and comfort.

If you have never dipped into WUTHERING HEIGHTS here is a brief exchange between Catherine and Heathcliff. "I wish I could hold you," she continued bitterly, "till we were both dead ! I shouldn't care what you suffered. I care nothing for your sufferings. Why shouldn't you suffer ? I do ! Will you be happy when I am in the earth ?....
"Don't torture me till I am as mad as yourself," cried he, wrenching his head free and grinding his teeth.

Surely this sort of thing will accelerate the need to seek a noggin or two in quiet Pub just to steady your nerves.

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A GENTLE CRAIK UP CALL

PLOGCRAIK

A GENTLE CRAIK UP CALL

Could MRS. CRAIK be another clergyman's daughter? Indeed she could and was. She was born in 1826 near Stoke-on-Trent under the name of DINAH MARIA MULOCH.

Her work was mostly moralistic and she hit the jackpot in 1856 with JOHN HALIFAX GENTLEMAN, almost a Barbara Cartland meets Mill & Boon Epic. A poor orphan overcomes his humble origins by fortitude and perseverance plus more than a little help from Abel Fletcher, a Quaker mill owner and tanner and his son Phineas. He becomes a perfect gentleman and wins the hand of the heroine Ursula..

The background MRS. CRAIK chose for all this was Tewkesbury in Gloucestershire, which was and still is a town of chocolate box picturesqueness. MRS CRAIK had visited the town in 1852 and stayed at The BELL in Church Street opposite the Abbey, and found it had once been the home of a Tanner, and she bore this in mind when creating the Fletchers.

She obviously had a soft spot for The Bell, and made a final visit there in 1887 shortly before she expired.

The Inn is still very much worth while visiting. It is mainly Elizabethan but may once have been a hospice dating back to the 1200s if wall paintings found on interior walls are anything to go by. It is all very magnificent, and the exterior is half timbered with 3 storeys, the upper one having the slight overhang which characterises so many buildings from this era, and naturally 3 gables to complete the picture. It will of course be listed along with much in Tewkesbury.

We have no idea what Mr. Craik thought of all this. In fact I have no idea if there was a Mr. Craik - he gets not a single reference in any of the reference tomes I possess. Sometimes an air of mystery adds a little more to life, and I don't want to see any mention of him on Google, or put in an appearance on Face Book.

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A HARDY VARIETY

'IT WAS OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL COLOUR THAT THE EYE OF AN ARTIST COULD DESIRE; FULL IN BODY; YET BRISK AS A VOLCANO; PIQUANT, YET WITHOUT A TWANG; LUMINOUS AS AN AUTUMN SUNSET; FREE FROM STREAKINESS OF TASTE; BUT FINALLY RATHER HEADY.'
The Trumpet Major.

The WISE MAN at West Stafford in Dorset is a thatched pub dating from the 1600's and has a good claim to literary fame for being the favourite Pub of THOMAS HARDY the Grand Old Man of letters who put Wessex on the map with his novels and poems. Wessex had been taken off the map centuries ago and had become Dorset. Why Hardy chose to have a now fictitious county that could be confused with Essex, which is nowhere near, we shall never know. He died in 1928 and most of him is buried in Westminster Abbey - but his heart is buried in a biscuit tin in Stinsford churchyard not far from the Pub.

There is a verse attributed to Hardy which appeared on the inn sign:

'I trust no wise man will condemn
A cup of genuine now and then
When you are faint
Your spirits low
Your string relaxed
'Twill bend your bow'.

As the sign and the name WISE MAN were not in existence until 1937 this seems somewhat dubious. Did a much diminished Hardy return from beyond the biscuit tin to scribble this doggerel? However this was the Pub he liked best and the name was changed to honour him, and the previous name forgotten.

In the best literary fashion HARDY used known Pubs in his works and here are a few which have been traced.

THE SILENT WOMAN in remote Coldharbour is on the outskirts of Wareham Forest, Dorset. It was originally called The ANGEL after some woman achieved sainthood after losing her head. Later it was a well known smugglers' haunt and the story changed to a gang threatening to remove the tongue of the landlady if she did not keep quiet about their activities. Best not to ask. HARDY uses it in his 'RETURN OF THE NATIVE' in which he calls it The QUIET WOMAN.

The ACORN in Evershot in Dorset or should we use Dorswex? appears as THE SOW & ACORN in 'TESS OF THE D'URBERVILLES' and the village becomes Evershead. The Inn dates back to the 1500's and HARDY had a good eye for village Pubs. A Hardy Tour is never any hardship. This pub has received quite a few accolades over the years.

WINYARDS GAP at Chedington gets a reference in a poem called The TRAMPSWOMAN'S TRAGEDY'. The Pub name comes from a General Winyard who cut a gap through the woods during the Monmouth Rebellion to move his artillery to a hill top. The name change took its time to filter through as the Pub was The KINGS ARMS up until 1841.

BLACKMORE VALE INN - Marnhull, Dorset. We are back to TESS OF THE D'URBERVILLES of 1891 and the could be the Inn called 'ROLLIVER'S' If not The CROWN at Marnhull is more or less certainly 'THE PURE DROP' Visit all the Pubs in the area just in case. I'm sure that THOMAS HARDY did before making a selection. What obscure Pub did JUDE THE OBSCURE fancy? Where did THE MAYOR OF CASTERBRIDGE quaff? Where can one obtain the Hardy Ale of THE TRUMPET MAJOR if not in Dorchester? Whatever happened to Eldridge Pope the Dorset brewers? Take a trip to Dorset FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD. .

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JAMAICA INN - FACT & FICTION

The JAMAICA INN at Bolventor, Cornwall is a brooding Inn on Bodmin Moor built of Cornish granite and a roof of slate. It dates from 1547 and was never a pub for the faint hearted as traveller C. Redding recalls in 1842.

"The great mail-road through Truro to Falmouth from Launceston passed through Bodmin, and as it was our determination to cross the moors we mounted the mail as far as a solitary inn, situated in a desolate spot, where the coach changes horses. This inn is called the 'JAMAICA INN'. No view is to be obtained on any side, for around were only heathy moors, brown and monotonous. We reached it at nightfall in a drizzling south-west rain, and on foot having left the mail to examine the Four-Hole Stone, which stands by the roadside, about a mile from the Inn, on a desert heath called Temple Moor, truly 'a waste howling wilderness.'. The Jamaica Inn offered course but clean accommodation. During the night the wind swept in gusts across the moors from the south, driving along rain as fine as vapour."

Its desolation made it for centuries an ideal haven for smuggling and skullduggery. The name Jamaica harks back to the days of Jamaica Rum being in great demand.

In 1936 it inspired authoress Daphne Du Maurier to write her romantic novel called simply 'JAMAICA INN'. She took the Inn and location at face value and stocked it up with here own set of characters with an evil landlord and a stressed out heroine

The book proved very popular and in 1939 Alfred Hitchcock directed a film version of JAMAICA INN with CHARLES LAUGHTON as the wicked Squire Pergallon, and glamorous MAUREEN O'HARA as heroine Mary Yellan. I'm not sure who played her evil uncle and landlord Joss Merlin - possibly ROBERT NEWTON who was in the cast. Sadly it was all made rather badly in a studio without any location shots. Author GRAHAM GREENE was a film critic at the time and summed it up with 'I was reminded of an all-star charity matinee.'

Nevertheless it did well at the Box Office, and Daphne went on to write REBECCA which also became a film starring Laurence Olivier. Then there was FRENCHMAN'S CREEK all with West Country settings and a short story called THE BIRDS, which became another HITCHCOCK enterprise, and was changed out of all recognition and made into an American Blockbuster.

In 1985 a TV film version of JAMAICA INN was made in two parts with PATRICK McGOOHAN as Joss and Jane Seymour as Mary. I have never seen it and have no idea how or where it was filmed but I bet the real JAMAICA INN never gets a part.

The Pub was once owned by ALISTAIR MACLEAN the thriller writer who must have been very thrilled with it.

There it still is with cobble stone courtyards, flagstoned floors, massive beams and granite fireplaces. Please God don't let it be festooned with hanging baskets and turned into a Gastropub.

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A NEW END

Any Pub called The NEW INN won't be. It will be old. Sometime very old indeed. built in days when things were made to last.

In Ringmore, in a coastal corner of Devon, leading down to a cove there is an Inn at the end of the road opposite the church. It was built in 1180 to house the builders of the church. It was not until Good Queen Bess decreed that there should be state sponsored Inns throughout the West Country, not less than 18 to 20 miles apart for the use of travellers and merchants, that it became The NEW INN.

Time slid past and then came Civil War and Ringmore Royalists took a pounding from Cromwell forces before escaping by sea. Later in the smuggling years the cove would have been a haven for such activities. So the centuries passed until the Great War of 1914-18 came upon us and an R.C. SHERRIF was called to arms and served as an officer. His experiences led him to writing a play in 1929 whilst staying at the NEW INN. Set in a dug-out during trench warfare the play was a grim reminder of the futility of it all. The play called JOURNEY'S END was an instant success and a young actor called LAURENCE OLIVIER had a leading part.

It was so popular that it was decided to turn in into one of those new fangled Movies now known as 'Talkies' and Gainsborough Studios had to collaborate with film makers over in America as only they had the suitable sound equipment. By today's standards the film was stilted and strangulated. It was directed by James Whale, and starred Colin Clive from England. Almost any cinematic experience went down well in 1930 and this was no exception. James Whale and Colin Clive stayed on in Hollywood and did even better with the film FRANKENSTEIN in 1931, with COLIN CLIVE as the Doctor and another British actor who disguised his origins with the name BORIS KARLOFF as the famous monster.

The landlord of the Pub in Ringmore was thrilled by all this and changed the name of the Pub to JOURNEY'S END which it still bears today, and you will find memorabilia, playbills etc. in this fascinating and well named Pub.

R.C. SHERRIF went on to involvement in film scripts and had a hand in The Invisible Man in 1933, Goodbye Mr. Chips in 1939, The Odd Man Out in 1947 and The Dam Busters in 1955.

Wherever you choose to quaff have a safe journey.

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ARTHURISATION

If the Holy Grail is ever found it will be in a Pub. It may be one of those pubs where a multitude of drinking vessels and mugs are suspended from the beams. or one with an alcove of curiosities. It will contain such items as a mummified cat, a gin trap, a stuffed weasel playing a tiny violin and a battered brass goblet with a handle missing. It will have the letters G.SUSS crudely engraved on the side. This means it will most likely be in a Sussex Pub called The GEORGE, or The GEORGE & DRAGON, or The GREEN MAN, or The GARDENERS ARMS or something Golden.

Before all this you need to know about ARTHUR. The man responsible for trying to turn him from fairy story and fable into a real King is Geoffrey of Monmouth. He was a monk and cleric from the 1100's. In a way he was the Jeffrey Archer of his day with the ability to mix fact and fiction to suit his own purposes. As a librarian Monmouth claimed he had researched ancient and rare books to furnish him with historical details concerning ARTHUR. Strangely no one else ever saw these books or had any knowledge of them having been written. There weren't that many books around at the time. They didn't exactly circulate often being chained in place.

Geoffrey decided to embark on his own best seller - Ancient Kings of Britain or 'Historia Regum Britanniae' because it was all in Latin. Amongst his British Kings are Brutus, King Cole, Lear, Cymbeline, Arthur, Julius Caesar, Vespasian, and others of dubious aspect. He also wrote 'The Life and Prophecies of Merlin' much of which was incorporated in the History.

ARTHUR and MERLIN stories have been popular since we know not when, with Bards, tall tale tellers and poets. So Geoffrey hit the jackpot and got his own name into the records.

In 1469 Sir Thomas Malory came out with a great updated version of ARTHUR'S exploits called LE MORTE D'ARTHUR as he was languishing in gaol. He was an ex knight and had worked his into Parliament but had done some naughty things and was never again to be a free man. (This sort of thing wouldn't happen today would it?). So with time on his hands in Newgate wrote 8 main tales which came out in 21 books..

Others have since added and re-written versions including Tennyson who came out with a strange poetic version IDYLLS OF THE KING.

So it is natural that Pubs have pounced on the possible locations for pleasure and profit. We start in Wales with The KING ARTHUR at Higher Green in Reynoldstown, Gower, Glamorgan. This Pub is near to the ARTHUR STONE on Cef Bryn Hill.

Now we fly with the speed of Merlin to Glastonbury, in Somerset. Such an obvious choice as this is a nutters-gone-mad town full of Arthurnaila amidst the Wiccans, Druids, and Fortune Tellers. It also has the famous annual mud bath and decibel festival. So of course there is The KING ARTHUR in Benedict Street a popular bustling Pub.

In the High Street we have The GEORGE & PILGRIMS a real Pilgrims Inn built in 1475, with fantastic 3 storey bays, mullioned windows and awe inspiring solidity. This is where the real Pilgrims called on their journeys, bartering and buying saintly relics. 'Special Offer on Grails, free piece of the true cross with every purchase.' Inside there is also some very imposing architecture in the older parts and you can get real ale but not in a grail even if we are not sure what a grail looked like. The popular idea is that it is some sort of chalice which was a utensil not really in vogue until churches were established. The chances of Jesus having drunk out of such an ostentatious vessel are somewhat remote. Certainly not a silver one. So for all we know it could be a wooden cup or a clay pot.

ARTHUR seekers are always poking around the remains of Glastonbury Abbey trying to dig up clues and evidence. Nothing so far, despite spurious claims. Then there is Glastonbury Tor overlooking all this: Did you know if you stand on the top at night with a candle in one hand and a tankard of ale in the other and shout 'Arise King Arthur! Merlin Awake!' absolutely nothing will happen? You must bear in mind however that in 1270 a tower built on the hill was destroyed in a massive landslide. Perhaps if you put your ear to the ground you may get some muffled groans. 'Get these bloody stones off - We can't move.' There is a Chalice Well. Perhaps this is where Pilgrim merchants dumped their dented chalices when the silver paint wore off.

Then there is mysterious Camelot for which Winchester in Hampshire is the top claimant. After all they have King Arthur's Round Table in the Great Hall at Winchester Castle. It resembles a giant 18 foot round dartboard hung on the wall and decorated with all the Knights Names around the perimeter and a kingly figure presiding above the bulls eye. It is a very old piece of wood, but was decorated thus in 1522 on the orders of Henry VIII who hoped to use it for his son Arthur's coronation. Arthur died, and daddy cried because there was never a son to take his place.. Winchester does not go in for Arthurian pubs, because it has it's own hero KING ALFRED. A real proven and tested King.

Our next port of call takes us to Cornwall and Tintagel Castle, where what is left dates from 1145 in a very dramatic setting at the foot of cliffs on a rugged part of the coast. Advocates claim it has been built on an earlier site and it was here MERLIN took charge of ARTHUR as a baby. Now in Fore Street we have just the Pub you need. KING ARTHUR'S ARMS. It is a Free House and ideal for recovering from the impact of KING ARTHUR'S GREAT HALLS in the same street. These vast halls are devoted to Arthurnalia, and were founded by a millionaire in the 1930's. They have got the lot including 72 stained windows with coats of arms of knights etc. There are other pubs in the area and Cornish ale is very good for you. Stay within reach of ST. AUSTELL, SHARPS, SKINNERS and Guest Beers. Cream Teas if that is your preference and see if you can find a real Cornish Pasty.

Bear in mind MERLIN came before ARTHUR and controlled his destiny, and must be slightly higher in the reality stakes.

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SHIP SHAPE AND BRISTOL FASHION

Without Pubs there would not be much British Literature. From the days of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales every writer of note has used Inns and Taverns as settings, meeting places and observation points.

According to Publore, if it had not been a chance meeting between DANIEL DEFOE and ALEXANDER SELKIRK in THE LLANDOGER TROW in BRISTOL in 1711 we would not have 'ROBINSON CRUSOE'. Selkirk was a mariner who had survived for 5 years on a Desert Island without any Discs or D.I.Y. Manuals and DEFOE let the story simmer before creating the Ultimate Castaway ROBINSON CRUSOE in 1719.

Born in 1660 DEFOE was one of our most prolific writers. He wrote everything from pamphlets to novels and once in 1704 ran a thrice weekly newspaper called the REVIEW. He was often in trouble for his forthright political views and suffered imprisonment and a spell in the pillory. All this made him more popular. He also wrote MOLL FLANDERS. Now there's a name that has never reached a Pub sign.

In 1863 THE LLANDOGER TROW became a starting point for the classic rip roaring rollicking pirate yarn for youngsters of all time. TREASURE ISLAND. The hero and narrator is Jim Hawkins the landlord's young son. From the time Blind Pew tap taps his way to the Tavern renamed The Admiral Benbow, by author Robert Louis Stevenson you get adventure and non-stop action. Long John Silver, The parrot squawking 'Pieces of Eight!', skullduggery, piracy, 'Fifteen Men on a Dead Man's Chest' and hardly a pause for breath. There is even a mad Castaway, Ben Gunn, who is quite possible a parody of Robinson Crusoe.

A trow is a trough shaped boat and the Pub is named after the one used by a Captain Hawkins who traded from Bristol. So Stevenson used this name for his hero..

In 1664 the five gabled timbered Inn was five private houses. When they were amalgamated and became a Tavern it was used in slave trading days to hold captives. In much later years a theatre across the road kept the Pub supplied with famous thespians and Beerbohm Tree, Henry Irving and Kate Terry were among those who supped here. The location in King Street is now Premier Travel Lodge territory, but the pub frontage is wonderfully intact and there are tables outside too. The 'Grog Shop' days are gone, but not forgotten. Of course it is now 'YE' instead of 'The' This strange Victorian custom to denote extra aging, when Ye actually means 'You'.

Robert Louis Stevenson was from Scotland, suffered very poor health and took off for the South Seas himself, after a remarkably prolific writing life. He died in Samoa aged about 50.
TREASURE ISLAND has never been out of print and there are film versions full of over the top acting. 'Aha There Jim Lad!'

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PROOF OF THE PUDDING

-Are we still in Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese in Wine Office Court, Fleet Street?-
-Indeed we are.
-But it is seems to be about 1905.
-Why should that matter? This is not a Pub where history has ever stopped and you need to experience the pudding.
-What pudding?
-If you shut up for a moment and buy a few tankards of foaming ale I will try and explain.

Who knows when the Great Pudding first took shape? By 1898 it was arousing much attention when the great and famous came from far and wide to savour this Wednesday and Saturday Special.

Mrs. Chamberlain wife of the Prime Minister wanted to know how it was made. 'That madam' replied Boniface the landlord 'is a secret worth just twice my freehold'.

The famous Pudding was made in a huge basin and weighed from 50 to 80lbs. A light pastry crust encapsulated cubes of beefsteak, kidneys, oysters, larks, mushrooms, marrow, spices and gravy all boiled for up to 20 hours. The smell on a breezy day reached as far as The Stock Exchange.

From very early days Fleet Street was known as The Street of Ink due to the number of printers living and working there. Wynkyn de Worde moved in to produce that early best seller 'A merry geste of Robyn Hode and his Meyne'. Pubs and print proliferated and by 1841 a group of satirists met at The PUNCH TAVERN, 99 Fleet Street, and the first humorous magazine was created and 'PUNCH' was launched. Then with the advent of newsprint and daily newspapers and weekly and monthly magazines Fleet Street became even inkier with authors, journalists, columnists, reporters and commercial artists and cartoonist all vying for attention and flowing through the pubs until in more recent times Trade Union troubles brought Canary Wharf into being and the popular press was spirited away.

Throughout the prolific times the 'CHEESE' was a haunt of the gifted and they tended to doodle and scribble when full of beer and pudding. The landlord began to collect the amusing musings and the Visitors Book came into being.

Phil May a famous PUNCH cartoonist attempted to infiltrate into the secret kitchen - but got not a glimpse so he relied on imagination to draw a cartoon involving wizards, elves and incantations as they sprinkled magic ingredients. Many speculative cartoons followed and Pudding Jokes were perpetuated.

There was only one reported calamity and I quote from my 1913 paperback THE BOOK OF THE CHEESE.
'Once, and once only was that pudding dropped. Alas the sad day! In the room sat an expectant hungry army of fifty men. The waiter, bearing in triumph the pudding, appeared smiling on the scene. His foot slipped, he tripped, the pudding wavered and then bowled along the floor, breaking up and gathering sawdust as it went. There was a breathless silence. The proprietor dropped the upraised carver, stood speechless for a moment, and then went out and wept bitterly. The occasion was too much for him. One after another the awed and hungry crowd put their hats on and departed with sorrowful faces and watering mouths.'

I would not be surprised it the recipe survives somewhere but who would be able to supply the larks?

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MAY WE HAVE A WORD?

The QUEENS HEAD at Tirrel in Cumbria dates from 1719 and was once owned by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH and his brother. They sold the Pub in 1836. I think it was because William could not find a rhyme for Tirrel.

'As I passed the Inn at Tirrel
I saw a solitary squirrel
Munching thru the Daffodirrel'

It's not easy being a Poet Laureate.

It has remained a fine rambling village pub with settled and enough varied areas and dining space to support four open fireplaces.

There was in recent times a small Tirrel Brewery attached to the Pub but this has now relocated to Long Marton.

The 10,000 daffodils fluttering and rippling that WORDSWORTH sighted as he was WANDERING LONELY AS A CLOUD has always worried me. What was he doing up in the air? Was he witnessing the massing of the Killer Daffodils? In the terrain of the Lake District it is quite easy to go missing even without a mist. Take care. Never stray far from a pub.

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WHERE THERE'S A WILL THERE'S A PLAY

Here are some of the Quaffing Quotes from the master of Pot and Plot WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

'A QUART OF ALE IS A DISH FIT FOR A KING' - A Winters Tale.
'I WOULD GIVE ALL MY FAME FOR A POT OF ALE AND SAFETY - Henry IV part 1.
'I WILL MAKE IT A FELONY TO DRINK SMALL BEER' - Henry VI.
'NOW SPURS THE LATED TRAVELLER APACE TO GAIN THE TIMELY INN' - Macbeth
'GOOD WINE IS A GOOD FAMILIAR CREATURE : IF IT BE WELL USED '- Othello.
'MAKE MINE IMAGE BUT AN ALEHOUSE SIGN.' -Henry VI

How dull life would be without such rich characters as FALSTAFF or SIR TOBY BELCH.

Sadly we cannot follow in the footsteps of the master to his favourite taverns. The steady obliteration of Publore is nothing new.

We shall do what we can. The obvious starting place is Stratford-on-Avon in Warwickshire, Will's Home Town. Despite being the Tourist Shrine of England and containing some terrible tourist tat and trash and Shoppes and Hathaway Caffes that make you gasp in horror. The sturdy Elizabethan black and white timbered buildings are something else.

The SHAKESPEARE HOTEL in Chapel Street is a sight to behold. It is an amalgamation of two buildings. The Great House was built in 1486 for the current Lords of the Manor. SHAKESPEARE would have gone there when negotiations for his residence in New Place were taking place. Next door to this was the Five Gables another amazing structure for which we don't have the history. Then there is a long space until the late 1600's when after the Civil War the two properties were amalgamated into an Inn. As the Great House already had four gables now there are nine. The Inn received a big boost in 1796 when DAVID GARRICK arrived with plans for a Stratford Theatre. He persuaded the landlord of the time to name all the bars, rooms and bedrooms after the Bard's plays. A bar called 'Measure for Measure' appeals.

The WHITE SWAN in Rother Street dates back to SHAKESPEARE'S TIME when it was the KING'S HEAD. It is another very fine building with a good history of its own. The Bard could well have popped in. He wasn't one for scratching "Will was 'ere" on the windows as a message to posterity.

In Chapel Street we have The FALCON. A three storey black and white classic which would have been a private residence in Will's day and did not become an Inn until 1640. Again time passed but in 1824 the SHAKESPEARE CLUB was formed here. This hopefully is still in existence and meetings still held here.

From here life in London takes over, but so much has been eradicated. Not intentionally There was a plague and in 1666 the Great Fire of London destroyed the old city Pubs. Many were rebuilt but obviously not to previous designs or locations. Before all this much of SHAKESPEARE'S activities centred around London Bridge, Blackfriars and Bankside on the other side of the Thames escaped the fire. In fact SAMUEL PEPYS watched the fire of London from The ANCHOR The area is now being revitalised and there is a modern replica of THE GLOBE, SHAKESPEARE'S famous theatre. plus a New Tate in an old pumping station.

Sadly Southwark, still full of brilliant and historical Pubs has lost over centuries the two Inns connected with Will. The TABARD which went back to CHAUCER'S time and was the starting point of CANTERBURY TALES having survived the Great Fire, sadly burnt down in 1676. It was re-built but demolished by the Victorians in 1874.

With the quote 'I WILL TAKE MINE EASE IN MINE INN' I always feel SHAKESPEARE was referring to his favourite The MERMAID. This is where SIR WALTER RALEIGH had his own literary circle meetings, where the gifted could meet each other. SHAKESPEARE and BEN JONSON were regular guests. The Pub was in Cheapside and gets a mention from the poet Keats in a poem from 1818. Then it seems to have vanished without trace.

So what are we left with? SHAKESPEARE'S brother Edmond is buried in Southwark Cathedral. In Borough High Street is the only surviving galleried Inn in London - The GEORGE. This is owned by the National Trust and despite the encroaching concrete and glass, if you stand in front with blinkers on you have something that is instantly recognisable from old prints, drawings and very early photographs. The idea of a galleried inn was a wooden balustraded gallery along the exterior of the Pub looking down into the courtyard. Here performers could set up a stage and 'Play to the Gallery' London was full of such inns and SHAKESPEARE would have performed at many of them before involvement in setting up the first theatres. In fact he could have performed at the GEORGE. Inside the Pub is also very good with the basic bars well maintained and not tweaked up for tourists. There is a draught GEORGE ALE specially brewed, and for London the food is very good value. There are rooms at the top available for events. We tend to visit Pubs like this early in the week and well away from holiday and Tourist Swarms.

The Pub must go on!

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BEWITCHED, BOTHERED & BEWILDERED.

Initially The INKLINGS were three Oxford Dons, professors in various fields of English Language, who held meetings from the 1930's up until the 1960's.

J.R.R. TOLKEIN, C.S. LEWIS and C. WILLIAMS. liked to wallow in mind winding fantasy worlds of their own devising and waffle away to each other and any adherents they could round up.

One of their favourite venues was The EAGLE & CHILD at 49, St. Giles Oxford. known by Pub punters as The BIRD & BABY. Here they would sit in a back bar puffing away on pipes and tipping back tankards of ale as they extolled their fantasies. Lords of the Smoke Rings.
TOLKEIN invented Middle Earth and filled it with Hobbits, Magic Rings, Wizards, Orcs, Dragons and Quests. LEWIS invented Narnia a world which started with a Lion, a Witch and a wardrobe. (Not necessarily in that order). You entered this world through a wardrobe and when you did you met non-stop magic and mythological mayhem. Admittance was children only making it easier to scare the wits out of them. The talking Lion was a goodie, the pretty Witch nothing but scheming evil. Throw in fauns, centaurs, wolves, cuddly creatures, sudden season changes and everything able to speak. I'm sure there must be a border crossing between Middle Earth and Narnia. The INKLINGS must have had a swop shop of gobbledegook and goblins.

C. WILLIAMS did more his own thing and was into metaphysical thrillers, but was also into Arthurian Legend embellishments, and once you are into the questing world the dragons will follow.

This popular Pub has a narrow frontage but it runs deep, and is partially a shrine to The INKLINGS but caters very capably to us lesser creatures, is comfortable, has good meals and decent beers. You may see the original Wardrobe which inspired C.S. LEWIS to start things rolling. For God's sake don't go inside.

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VICTORIAN VALUES

'GIVE MY PEOPLE PLENTY OF BEER, GOOD BEER, AND CHEAP BEER, AND YOU WILL HAVE NO REVOLUTION AMONG THEM'
was the commendation of our stout monarch QUEEN VICTORIA.

She also instigated the prestigious patronage boost with warrants for those retailers who supplied the Royal Household to use the Royal Coat of Arms and the legend 'By Appointment to Her Royal Majesty' etc. on their advertisements and brand labels. Now the common fold could say 'look, we eat the same marmalade as the Queen for breakfast, and in the evening sip the same gin and sup the same whiskies.

QUEEN VICTORIA did patronise the more prestigious Inns - and if she was pleased by their treatment the word ROYAL would often be incorporated into the Pub name. This was not just her idea, Royalty had been doing this sort of thing for centuries.

This is what happened to The ROYAL ARMS in East Street, Chichester, West Sussex. In 1591 it was Scarborough House, home of Lord Lumley advisor to ELIZABETH 1st and she had an ornate 'Italianate' room upstairs with sumptuous carvings and mouldings where she could hold audiences. This is still there but not on view to the customers. Only the Landlord can grant you an audience.

Time marched on and by Georgian times the building was a large shop of some sort and it was not until 1750 it became an Inn called the SCARBOROUGH ARMS. In the early 1800's it was purchased by Mr. Parker who was renowned for his famous Milk Punch made to a Secret Recipe. (Pubs with 'Secret Recipes' - now there's food for thought). During this time the Pub became know as YE OLDE PUNCH HOUSE still used as a secondary title today.

The Pub then passed to John Hudson complete with recipe and he was most happy to continue with the tradition. He was even happier when QUEEN VICTORIA got to hear about the famous Punch and in 1840 appointed him 'Manufacturer of Punch in Ordinary to Queen Victoria'. And of course the Inn became The ROYAL ARMS.

With its colonaded entrances and bow windows the Pub has a very attractive frontage and inside the panelled bars are no less than you would expect.

Do they still have the recipe? I'm sure they do. In 1987 the current landlord presented a bottle of the precious liquid to the current Queen, Elizabeth II who was distributing Maundy money from Chichester Cathedral. She was far too busy to visit the Pub. Unlike her predecessors Liz II is not a Pub person. However the landlord did receive a letter from Windsor saying that Her Majesty had enjoyed the Punch. But no repeat orders or Royal Warrant. The landlord wondered if it had been properly heated so that the brandy in it could circulate and bring out the true flavours of the other ingredients. A punch is not just any old drink it needs some loving care and attention to detail. I wonder how much QUEEN VICTORIA got through.

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...HE WHO WOULD VALIANT BE...

1679 was the year of the third edition of JOHN BUNYAN'S 'PILGRIMS PROGRESS'. It was becoming an all time bestseller and an embarrassment to the Establishment who had put him in Bedford jail for 12 years to try and stop his unlicensed preaching. The book is a dire and allegorical journey of a goody two shoes Christian against such disasters as Giant Despair and The Slough of Despond. They released BUNYAN realising he would do less damage if he just carried on preaching.

Houghton House owned by the Conquest family was believed to have been the model for 'THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL', a place of temptation in PILGRIMS PROGRESS. The house fell into disrepair and much of the Jacobean panelling was incorporated into a village inn situated in The Grove at Houghton Conquest. The KNIFE & CLEAVER dates from the 1600's and is known today for it's swish elegance, dining facilities with a conservatory and a lovely garden. I suppose one could call it 'THE PUB BEAUTIFUL'.

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Say it Again Sam

"THERE IS NOTHING WHICH HAS YET BEEN CONTRIVED BY MAN, BY WHICH SO MUCH HAPPINESS IS PRODUCED AS BY A GOOD TAVERN OR INN"

This, the most constantly repeated accolade for Pubs came from the lips of The Great Dr. Samuel Johnson in 1776 when it was duly noted by the journalist James Boswell who came from Scotland to London to study law and spent more time studying Dr. Johnson.

The quotation is very succinct and has never really been surpassed as befits the great man of words who cherished this part of our heritage. The comment comes at the end of a short discourse with Boswell which is not without interest so we give you his fuller version.

"We dined at an excellent inn at Chapel-house, where he expatiated on the felicity of England in its taverns and inns, and triumphed over the French for not having, in any perfection, the tavern life "There is no private house (said he) in which people can enjoy themselves so well, as at a capital tavern. Let there be ever so great plenty of good things, ever so much grandeur, ever so much desire that everybody should be easy; in the nature of things it cannot be: there must always be some degree of care and anxiety. The master of the house is anxious to entertain his guests; the guests are anxious to be agreeable to him: and no man, but a very impudent dog indeed, can freely command what is in another man's house, as if it were his own. Whereas at a tavern, there is a general freedom from anxiety. You are sure you are welcome: and the more noise you make, the more trouble you give, the more good things you call for the welcomer you are No servants will attend you with the alacrity which waiters do, who are incited by the prospect of an immediate reward, in proportion as they please. No, Sir: { AND HERE COMES THE QUOTATION }
He then repeated with great emotion, Shenstone's lines:
"Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round,
Where'er his stages may have been
May sigh to think he still has found
The warmest welcome at an inn."

There are only a small handful of Pubs actually bearing the name of this Pub champion - none of any historical merit or any association with Dr. Johnson. Once in a dull misguided moment I went so far as to take a census in one of them to see if any of the public bar pundits knew anything about Dr. Sam. None did. They all assumed he was some medical practitioner who may have lived in the area. Just one ventured further. 'Didn't he invent circulation?' In a way I suppose he did - but for the printed word rather than blood.

So Lexicographer was an even more baffling item. I'm afraid the establishment I had chosen regarded the Sun newspaper as literature.

As the Man of Letters who compiled the first comprehensive English Dictionary, Dr. Johnson's own description is somewhat dismissive 'Lexicographer: a writer of dictionaries, a harmless drudge'. He was hardly that. The son of bookseller in Staffordshire he suffered from poor health and twitches but grew into a bear of a man and by sheer perseverance and genius elbowed his way up the ladder to become a literary genius. His wit and repartee were legendary. You did not cross words with Johnson. He could annihilate you with an anecdote, vaporise you with verbosity or liquidate you with one liners. You did not want to be sentenced by him. He was also a very loyal comrade and friend and very popular holding forth in Taverns amongst the intelligentsia of the day, including playwrights, artists other writers.

The Dictionary he produced was no ordinary volume. It came in two volumes. Both about the size and weight of a paving stone. If you wish to see a replica the right surroundings are at YE OLDE CHESHIRE CHEESE, off Fleet Street in London. This was his first local. He lived around the corner and his friend David Garrick the playwright and actor was also a regular. Not only does this Pub have his old chair it has the history of London from when it was rebuilt after the Great Fire. It is owned by SAM SMITHS the brewers renowned for preserving and conserving history, heritage and tradition. We shall be returning to this Pub, happily hidden down an alleyway which keeps too many tourists at bay, as it has been host to just about anyone of relevance and talent who has taken Dr. Johnson's words to heart. It has kept visitor's books for many years, which contain doodles, cartoons, verses and autographs of so many famous people.

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Old Thunder

BY THUNDER

Publog has its own strange laws and recently separate events have become strangely entwined. My first Blog STARDOM mentions the EVENING STAR in Brighton also including The DARK STAR Brewery. Subsequent research has revealed the Pub to be the home base local of ATTILA THE STOCKBROKER, the Sussex alternative Poet with a very strong Following.

Shortly after my initial STARDOM entry came GEORGE when a pilgrimage was made to Robertsbridge to complete my set of Hilaire Belloc 'Four Men' Pub visitations.

Unknown to me at these times was the fact that ATTILA THE STOCKBROKER is a fervid Hilaire Belloc fan.

A leading Pubology luminary is Dr. Kludge. With two screwdrivers, some balls of wiring and a box of connections he can knit a PC using cable stitch. He is also involved in graphic design for local newspapers and he drew my attention to a Hilaire Belloc tribute called OLD THUNDER to be performed at Amberley, featuring ATTILA and some excerpts from a stage adaption of 'The Four Men' by Ann Feloy which had been performed at Chichester. There was also to be a Sussex menu including a special beer called Old Thunder brewed especially for the occasion by DARK STAR with hops grown in the garden of ATTILA THE STOCKBROKER.

So around midday on 28th November on a greyish day threatening rain Dr. Kludge and I alighted from a train at Amberley Station. Two lone figures on an empty platform. We climbed the bridge over the platforms to get our bearings. 'Houghton left - Amberley right' was my verdict. 'The Four Men came through Houghton, and the nearest Pub is there.' The Chalkpits Museum was opposite the station and the performance was not until the evening.

So left we went. A pub sign within a few yards, proclaiming real ales etc. Then a large plank barn structure by the river called The Boathouse. Something didn't look right. 'Hang on' I observed, 'this isn't a Pub it's a Brassiere and Restaurant'.

'You mean Brasserie,' said Dr. Kludge, 'and this is not their Pub sign its got The BRIDGE INN on it..' The Pub was round a corner behind us, tucked away under a chalk cliff. This was indeed the Pub used by the Four Men.

'We came at last past the great chalk pit to the railway, and to the Bridge Inn which lies just on this side of the crossing of the Arun.
When we had all four come in out of the rain into Mr. Duke's parlour at the Bridge Inn, and when we had ordered beer and began to dry ourselves at the fire the Sailor said : "Come Grizzlebeard we promised to tell stories of our first loves when we came to the Arun!"'

This splendid Pub was three small farmhouses around 1740, and amalgamated into an Inn around the time work started on the Chalk quarries, when the nearby river would have been used for transportation and later the railway.

The front bar was probably the parlour - an inviting room. Especially when Sharp's Cornish Coaster was on offer. This is not something you can find just anywhere. It come from a micro-brewery that owns no pubs but supplies around a thousand outlets between here and Cornwall. Mostly Freehouses. There was an unlit fireplace in the bar, but in a small passage way leading to the restaurant room there was a duck's cradle grate and log fire in a wall chimney set at about knee height in the wall. Opposite a two seater pew. That was the spot to take the chill out of one's bones. We decided to have a lunch snack as well. A young foreign barmaid was being extremely efficient and asked permission for us to take photos.

Then the trudge to Houghton on the turnpike road over the bridges. We soon found this meant single file along the white lines edging the road. There was no path or provision for pedestrians and the traffic in both directions was relentless. A rolling Sussex road too with twist and turns and blind bends. The medieval bridges has alcoves for pedestrians - so they had the right idea when there were only horses and carts. From these we could admire the views or seek a brief respite in any farm or building entrance and there weren't many of those.

Approaching from this side and crossing Houghton Bridge you cannot see The GEORGE & DRAGON until you are almost upon it. Oh dear - the unchanging flint and buttressed facade of this timeless Pub had a plastic banner across it red on white proclaiming UNDER NEW OWNERSHIP. Also a large board advertising Curry Nights rendered photographic attempts negative even with a digital camera. I have sketched this Pub a few times in my life but somehow it is camera shy. The best shot I have is in black & white from decades ago. Still it has been there since 1276 and must be in a pretty picture book somewhere. 'I need a drink to steady my nerves,' I spluttered, 'they had better be open. After escaping from the traffic I feel like Charles II after escaping Cromwell's men and popping in for a pint.' This is of course the accredited Inn where Charles II visit has been well documented.

Inside all fears were quelled. A very enthusiastic and attractive Australian landlady was multitasking. 'Only been here two weeks,' she informed us as she was showing a young staff member the intricacies of re-lighting a log fire which had burnt to a red glow. This is no ordinary fireplace. The hearth is around five feet or more wide. It is a fireplace where hams were smoked and has staples for chimney sweeps to climb. Her technique was faultless. Fires and hearths are the very hearts of old pubs. I could keep a log book on how to feed them.

Our Landlady was now helping someone lug in a barrel of beer from the car park. She was still able to chat on the trot. 'Fella from back home says "Why'd you buy this ol' place - why'ncha get a new pub?" but I love it.'

Everything in the beautiful rambling high beamed Pub was as it should be. It is obviously listed and some of the furnishings seem to go with it. It also has stunning views from the back windows looking up to the high hills including Duncton and Bury, all dotted with sheep with nothing to mar the views. In the summer lots of outside and garden space.

A young barman was chatting with Dr. Kludge and we settled on Ringwood beer from Hampshire. It's amazing where you can drink from in Sussex these days.

The Landlady was whirling past again. 'Have you seen the Elephant?' I have indeed. It is an old acquaintance. It is a framed photograph of an elephant with its trunk through a front window of the Pub. A travelling circus came over Houghton Bridge in the early 1900's (I'd like to see elephants on the bridge today) and the elephant in question was either curious or thirsty. Or both. I hope someone gave it a pint. Some enterprising character with the latest technology of the day probably a bellows camera on a tripod managed to preserve the incident and the Pub received or bought a print which has been part of the Pub history ever since.

It was time to trek back as we still had another journey to make. The landlady had to rush off because a customer arriving said there's a car in the park with all its doors and the boot open. 'Hell - it's mine - unloading beer.' She rushed off and I was unable to ask her name. She has our website address and I will look up some history for her. She really deserves to do well in these tough times.

The journey back seemed a bit shorter as we knew what to expect. Back at Amberley Station we found that nothing was open anywhere. The Chalkpits Museum was closed for the winter as were the gates to the Limeburners Restaurant. There were no posters, directions or advertising of any kind. In need of another warm up and restoration for traffic shattered nerves we returned to The BRIDGE INN for another drop of Coaster and cogitation. We assumed something would happen before Thunder Time and went to see what the road to Amberley village offered. It offered a bridle path behind a hedge with fields, horses and pleasant countryside. When the bridle path ended there was a narrow pavement on at least one side of the road. It was growing dark as we approached the village and there were no street lights. A sign pointed vaguely to The BLACK HORSE and after stumbling through several dark streets we came to the Pub very nicely lit and highlighted making a most welcome haven.

This was a Pub I had known for many years back from the days when I attempted to play village cricket for a wandering team which did not have an actual village to play for. This is another three old cottages worth of listed Pub, and I was pleased to find it still has the collection of sheepbells hanging from the beams. They were the legacy of Frank Oliver the last shepherd in the area. There are also beamsworth of horse brasses and many old photos and framed prints. There is a small front bar leading to a larger room with settles and tables, and behind the front bar a dining area with a homely assortment of furniture, and its own bar counter.

Another good landlady. Everywhere I go Pubs are being run by women, which I find is a very good thing. It cuts out a lot of macho bullshit. Still early and quiet we had plenty of time to sit on barstools and chat. Another fairly new occupant we shared her troubles and concerns with all the new stupid rules and idiocy of a Three Stooges Government. Brownie, Nobody's Darling and Mandy. She is with Admiral Taverns, a smaller pubco that allows her to have one guest ale of her own choice. There is only room for two handpumps on the small front bar. Her present choice was Hobgoblin from Wychwood (now owned by Marstons) which was fine by us.

A dark journey back. We had not thought to bring a torch. Dr. Kludge had a tiny light on a keyring or something, or perhaps he hot-wired a glow worm and it was just enough.

Yes - something was happening. A gate was open and we were led through a building and out the other end and pointed in the direction of the Limeburners Restaurant. A large glass fronted and sided building. None of the doors would open. They all seemed to be locked from the inside. We could see people inside queuing. Finally one small end door succumbed. It was all in modern mode. I can't imagine any sort of Limeburner or person engaged in any sort of historic trade ever having that such a place would come into being. Can you believe a Hog roast in a Panini? Actually with apple sauce and stuffing it was very edible even if it had come from pans and not a hog on a spit. There was a modern nondescript bar and from somewhere Old Thunder was poured, dark, heavy and slightly sweetish. Rather like Old Ale. It was an acquired taste that was very easily acquired.

The furniture was horrible. Shiny plywood chairs with slightly splayed tubular metal legs with table legs to match which meant the legs could generate their own Chinese puzzles. This was further perpetuated as no one wished to sit with their back to the performance. So six seater tables had chairs from the wrong side yanked out by customers to sit at the ends of the tables, thereby blocking all the aisles. And who were all these folk filling the room? Not many looked as if they were into punk poetry or carousing across Sussex singing in Pubs. Not a teenager in sight or though there were one or two young children. However the dining finished and the wining and Old Thunder were creating anticipation as we faced a small lecturn and table.

ATTILA THE STOCKBROKER soon proved equal to his task. He really was a very entertaining expert on BELLOC and could quote from memory 'The Cautionary Verses', I think more for adults than children, about the dreadful fates that befell children who broke the rules. Black humour even today and very funny. ATTILA'S father used to read these to him as a child and they fell about laughing, and some of ATTILA'S early attempts at an early age were in this vein. I don't think this sort of thing ever goes quite away. If you want to see what ATTILA THE STOCKBROKER looks like he has a website. I don't have the details to hand but put this name on Google and you should get through without too much history on Huns.

He is a very forceful normal looking character and his performance was riveting. It seems the 'Four Men' were all aspects of Belloc's own personality which was very diverse. ATTILA had details of every phrase of 'Old Thunder's' life and put it across with convincing clarity with warts and all. And found time for some of his own verse.

By the interval all discomfort had been pushed aside. Everyone was stocking up at the bar to take them through the second half.

This was also extremely good. More or less no props - the actors in costume mostly standing, a small table and some pewter tankards. Grizzlebeard a veteran in cape etc. An ebullient Sailor in a turtle neck pullover, and a young Poet who looked dressed for boating. 'Self' was very self effacing and mostly added commentaries. There was no programme and I have no details of any of the actors involved but I salute them all. I particularly enjoyed the rousing Drinking Song in four part harmony as they waved tankards around. The only disappointment was the omission of actual Pubs being mentioned. Only The CRICKETERS at Duncton had just the name revealed - I thought The BRIDGE being on the doorstop of Amberley could have had a mention. They used 'First Loves' discourse that actually took place in the Pub. Still, it was a lot in a short space of time, using chosen extracts and it was all very good value.

And so back to the still deserted station where at 11 pm. where a ghost train came and whisked us back. Perhaps we dreamt it all..

Attila's website: http://www.attilathestockbroker.com
Dave

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Strewth What a Sleuth!

A. CONAN DOYLE, later to become Sir Arthur, was another author who liked to ponder over his plots in a Hostelry. He wasn't a pop in for a pint person - he liked to book in for the full Inn experience.

In Northumberland Street, off Charing Cross Road, London stood the Northumberland Arms which made an initial appearance in THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES, a Sherlock Holmes mystery written in 1902.

In 1951 to combat the doom and gloom postwar years Britain decided it was time to have a bit of fun with the Festival of Britain, and the Northumberland Arms was revamped and named The SHERLOCK HOLMES by Whitbreads Brewery as a shrine to The Great Detective. It proved very popular and by 1953 an entire replica study from 221b Baker Street was incorporated, using the many descriptions from DOYLE'S stories. Today this can still be viewed through a glass window at the top of a stairway leading to a narrow landing, or from round the corner in the restaurant where there is another side window. Great attention has been paid to detail including a waxwork dummy of the great man himself in his dressing gown, although he looks in need of a little refurbishment.

For Sherlock fans this study is a delight and this is where it would be nice to use Blog illustrations but although we have photos etc. we do not as yet have the wherewithall, time and technology.

The Pub is not large, but no space has been wasted and Holmes memorabilia and items have been crammed in everywhere. Posters, illustration from the STRAND magazine, even a small TV flickering with old black and white films featuring Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce as Holmes and Watson. For we must not forget the constantly incredulous Dr. Watson who is used by DOYLE as the narrator of these mysteries. Without him as a foil so much would be lost. 'I gave a start of astonishment. Accustomed as I was to Holme's curious faculties, this sudden intrusion into my most intimate thoughts was utterly inexplicable. "How on earth do you know that ?" I asked'.

The Pub is not just a tourist Mecca - it is very popular in it's own right and is popular with those who work in the area. In the summer or at holiday times it can overflow and there are pavement tables and seating, after which it is standing room only. One redeeming factor is that some of the more geeky tourists cannot find it and wander around Trafalgar Square and try to find Baker Street.

'Well Watson, I've solved the Case of Old Speckled Hen Mystery'
'What happened to it Holmes?'
'We drank it all on your Birthday.

Armed with little more than a pen and the price of a few pints and assistance from the Pubology team I can solve the CONAN DOYLE Mysteries and prove that he was not just a fictitious doctor from Scotland invented by SHERLOCK HOLMES.

All will be revealed in due course. Join the dots with PUBOLOGY.COM.

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Mars Attacks!

I seem to be covering common ground with a pen and a pint following in the footsteps of Victorian/Edwardian authors traversing the highways and byways of South East England.

H.G. WELLS was a contemporary of BELLOC and CHESTERTON, but they could not stand him. They had both decided on Roman Catholicism and fables, whereas H.G. was modern man who preferred Science to Religion.. A similar trend was that he used real locations as a background for his best known work, THE WAR OF THE WORLDS. In 1897 this was written as a cliff hanging serial in monthly instalments for PEARSON'S MAGAZINE, a competitor of the STRAND which had CONAN DOYLE as a star author. WELLS always stayed loyal to PEARSON'S and much of his work found a platform there.

The serial was illustrated by Warwick Goble with the tripod Martian machines resembling pylons. There is not a piece of 'Alien Invasion' that has not paid tribute in some way to this format. The serial was so popular that it came in book form in 1898.

It all begins with what was thought to be a falling star landing on Horsell Common in Surrey. A man called Ogilvy is the first to see the crater. He rushes off to spread the news and a potman unlocking the doors of the pub at Horsell takes him for a lunatic and shuts him in the taproom. Eventually someone listens. 'You saw that shooting star last night? It's out on the common now. But it's more than a meteorite. It's a cylinder - an artificial cylinder man! And there's something inside!

Could the pub featured be the PLOUGH at Horsell Common? This solid double gabled Victorian Pub on the edge of the common at Cheapside on South Road is a favourite with walkers and ramblers. Could H.G. have dreamt up the Martians landing over a pint in this pub?

H.G. WELLS would have known a good pint when he saw one as before fame and fortune we held with his parents the joint tenancy of The FOUNTAIN in Southgate, Chichester, West Sussex. Today it is an attractive street corner Pub which belies its age, having been built in the 1500's incorporating part of the Roman town wall from 200 A.D.

In 1910 H.G. WELLS wrote THE HISTORY OF MR. POLLY where a small town hen-pecked shopkeeper decides he has had enough and sets fire to his house. He is presumed dead and takes his chance to embark on a life of freedom ending up working for a landlady many miles away at the Potwell Inn. This is a ficticious Pub but no doubt based on establishments frequented by H.G.

H.G. WELLS went on to write many science fiction and other classics but tailed off into history, Socialism and reform in the 1930's. I have never read The BULPINTON OF BLUP written in 1932, but has anyone? It sounds like 'The Shape of Things to Come, in the age of the Gastropub.

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The Flying Inn

It seems only logical to continue where paths and pubs meet and introduce G.K. CHESTERTON - the other half of the CHESTERBELLOC Combination in his own right - or rather writings.

As with Belloc's 'FOUR MEN' The FLYING INN receives no entry in the Cambridge or Oxford Guides to English Literature or other recent Encyclopaedias of a similar ilk But God Bless America and Dover Publications Inc. who published a paperback reprint, taken unabridged from the original John Lane Company publication in New York in 1914.

This was a very curious publication for the time with the world on the brink of war, and the USA on the road to prohibition.

Until this time CHESTERTON'S major works were THE NAPOLEON OF NOTTING HILL (1904), THE MAN WHO WAS THURSDAY (1908) and THE INNOCENCE OF FATHER BROWN (1911).

CHESTERTON was a larger than life figure than BELLOC coming in at around 18 stone, with a bushy moustache and pince-nez glasses. When he strode into pubs wearing his cape, wide brimmed hat and brandishing a cane he tended to get noticed. Yet strangely enough he has never appeared on an Inn Sign unless there is a recent rectification I don't know about. Unlike Belloc he embraced the whole of Britain not just Sussex. So The FLYING INN gets around.

Basically the story evolves from Lord Ivywood a powerful politician falling under Turkish influence to make Britain Islamic and do away with Inns. In a seaside village in Kent the Old Ship with landlord Humphrey Pump and a wild red-haired Irishman Captain Dalroy await to have their sign removed and the Pub destroyed. Dalroy queries the decision 'Whenever I find an Inn sign I may go in and ask for a glass of beer?' Lord Ivywood answers 'If you find any such , yes. But we hope soon to have removed them altogether.' It seems this has already happened and The Old Ship is the last on the list. Instead of meekly submitting Pump and Dalroy spring into action. They sieze a keg of rum and a large round cheese and the mighty Dalroy uproots the sign post and uses it to buffet the officials out of the way as he and the landlord who also snatches a shot gun take off into the woods and over the hills.

There follows a wild goose chase all over the country as the FLYING INN is liable to pop up anywhere and ply its trade - it also acquires a donkey and a cart. There is also a romantic interest in the form of Joan Brett, fancied by Ivywood and Dalroy. A rather splendid dog called Quoodle also manages to make his presence felt. Our heroes are aided and abetted by the rolling drunken English roads, and here is where the most frequently quoted CHESTERTON verses come from. As like BELLOC his heroes are fond of singing and spouting great fountains of verse.

'Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode
The rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road.
A reeling road, a rolling road, that rambles round the shire,
And after him the parson ran, the sexton and the squire.
A merry road, a mazy road, and such as we did tread
That night we went to Birmingham by way of Beachy Head.'

There are 3 more stanzas in much the same vein all with a last line ramble.
....'The night we went to Glastonbury by way of Goodwin Sands'.
....'The night we went to Bannockburn by way of Brighton Pier'
Finally 'Before we go to Paradise by way of Kensal Green.'

And if you go to Kilburn Street in Kensal Green London W10 you will find a very strange quirky bohemian Pub bearing the name PARADISE BY WAY OF KENSAL GREEN.
It is mishmash and mix with reproduction Regency furniture, palm trees, wrought iron furniture, a fallen angel, and perspectives and stairs that seem to owe something to German expressionism. There is a trendy food section but also cask ales. There will be arty crafty clientele but I wonder if any of them have read THE FLYING INN

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By George

I know a Pub named GEORGE.. In fact I know a lot of Pubs named GEORGE because we have had six kings of that name, also a prince and the patron ST. GEORGE with or without his Dragon. Plus The ROYAL GEORGE as a ship. So there must be a Pub named The GEORGE near you if you reside in Britain this side of Hadrian's Wall.

The most recent GEORGE with which we have made acquaintance is a Robertsbridge in East Sussex. An old Coaching Inn which these days has comfortable and contemporary feel. It does not need to bombard you with history. The very pleasant landlady saw me admiring the iron fireback in a snug chimney corner. She explained it was in a bad state of neglect when they took over and they had to have a traditional fireplace made by the Forge at the end of the High Street. (Well worth a visit). Also in the corner is a framed photo of a comfortably seated Hilaire Belloc in sagacious mode. This is where we come in.

This was the Inn where Belloc was staying and whilst sipping port came up with the idea of 'The Four Men'. Now long out of print. These days Hilaire Belloc is remembered for only one part of a sentence : CHANGE YOUR HEARTS OR YOU WILL LOSE YOUR INNS AND DESERVE TO LOSE THEM. BUT WHEN YOU HAVE LOST YOUR INNS DROWN YOUR EMPTY SELVES FOR YOU WILL HAVE LOST THE LAST OF ENGLAND.

This is quoted ad infinitum in Pub publications, books; inscribed on beams, walls and plaques. Anywhere where Inns are mention. Usually whittled down further to start from the word 'WHEN'. Nobody seems to know where it was cribbed from. It was from an article or column called 'THIS AND THAT' which I have never come across. Pubology is a hands on operation, so it's pints, pens and pubs before computers. Beer engines before search engines.

Belloc was an oddity. Born in France he adopted Sussex and wanted to be the most Sussexy person ever amidst strong competition including Rudyard Kipling. He had the edge over Kipling because he loved Pubs and company whereas Kipling shunned them. A great was G.K. CHESTERTON, another oddball who wrote The FLYING INN, a fable of what happened when Britain came under Islamic influence and all the Pubs were closed bar this one which had to keep on the move. How absurd. Well it was in 1914. Next thing we would be at war.

The pair of comrades were often known as CHESTERBELLOC as they shared characteristics both in writing and striding into Pubs singing.

So THE FOUR MEN is a curious piece of work and covers a 5 days Pub pilgrimage between 29th October and 2nd November l902, taken by four strangers..

Hilaire Belloc is 'Self', he teams up with 'Grizzlebeard' at the GEORGE. They meet the 'Sailor' at the Brightling Inn. Now The JACK FULLER

At Heathfield they meet 'The Poet'. And that is the four. They exist mainly on beer, bread and cheese with the occasional fry up. As they ramble through Sussex they sing, philosophise, spout poetry, squabble, tell tall stories and dredge up Sussex Legends. The Pubs they pop into and patronise bring further discussions and involvements with other customers.

There is no map and the itinerary is not the easiest to follow. The main point is that all the Pubs visited have survived, thrived and are seemingly in situ. At Fletching they hire a horse and cart to avoid the expansion of Haywards Heath and Burgess Hill. Spend the night in a hut in the woods somewhere and next day reach THE SWAN at Pease Pottage in West Sussex. This is now The BLACK SWAN For a few years it was The JAMES KING when Brewers King and Barnes owned it.

Next stop The CRABTREE at Lower Beeding where the 'Sailor's' singing at a bench outside disturbs the rustics, and he leaves five shillings for them to drink.

Now to Henfield where they stay the night and have a fry up. The Pub is not named. I will go for The PLOUGH the old Pedlars Inn, as they slept on the floor by the fire in the lounge. The GEORGE and WHITE HART would probably have been a bit too posh for that sort of thing.

They stay in a cottage at Ashurst but high on the agenda is a two gallon can of beer fetched from The FOUNTAIN.

Now the Pubs come a little faster - Steyning - Pub unnamed. I'll go for The STAR as The CHEQUER would surely have roused some comment for it's historic wrought iron sign.
Now the famed Inn at Washington renowned for it's Washington Swipes Beer at the time. It is now the splendid FRANKLAND ARMS
Another Coaching Inn steeped in History - The WHITE HORSE at Storrington.

Towards Arundel for The BRIDGE at Houghton.. GEORGE & DRAGON gets a mention for Historic Reasons. On up Duncton Hill for the CRICKETERS Then there is a BLUEBELL which must be the one at Cocking, and finally The THREE HORSESHOES at Elsted where they part company for ever.

Somewhen in the 1970's I think, a Sussex folk singer called Bob Copper emulated this journey and wrote a book - out of print and seemingly unobtainable as I do not have further details.

However, an erstwhile Pubology companion at times is the stalwart BASWOLD THE INVINCIBLE. who actually repeated more or less the journey some years ago. As a man of action Baswold sees no necessity for keeping records.

At various times over the years I have visited all these pubs apart from The GEORGE without ever realising the Four Men significance. What next - Three Men in a Boat?

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~oOo~

Stardom

Where does one start with a Blog? I can think of nothing more boring than 'I got up this morning . Went to the pub at twelve. Drank two pints of Crudgintons. Came home...'

I go on voyages of Discovery and Exploration. Themes come about because One good Pub leads to Another.

Within the many excursions of what has passed for our Summer I notice the Stars have come out. On trips to Brighton I found the O'Neills in Ship Street has reverted to it's former glory and original name of the SEVEN STARS and has been restored to Regency Glory by Youngs. It is nice to see a building which goes back to 1535 being looked after.

There are more stars twinkling in Brighton as you can go from the opulence of the above to the basic organic EARTH & STARS on a corner in Church Street in the North Laine area. At first approach it looks like a derelict building as an adjoining building has been demolished for some sort of car park, and the jagged wall left is also the pub wall. Round the corner the pub is painted a not very nice shade of pale blue. Inside it is attractively basic. Bare boards, chunky wood furniture and a bar made from some composite leftover building material. It's much better than it sounds. Everything is organic so naturally there is cask ale and the food is not only good, but good for you. We looked hard but could not see any carbon footprints even if we are not sure what they are supposed to look like.

On the ceiling is a huge carved roundel which seems to be Indonesian. If you look at it too long the message it conveys is that you have a crick in your neck. However we capture things like this on camera.

Then if you go down toward the end of Western Road before Hove the Temple Bar a large Pub on the corner with upstairs rooms has been painted a strange pinkish colour and is now called the STAR & SAILORS. Don't ask me, I was only passing.

If you visit Brighton by train a tiny trot from the station is the EVENING STAR tucked away in Surrey Street. This is the Real Ale Pub owned by the DARK STAR BREWERY. All basic bare boards, brickwork and beer. The small brewery is in Ansty a West Sussex village near Haywards Heath. They swop beers with other small breweries and were very surprised to win an award at a beer festival in Scotland as they had no idea how a cask of their beer got there. It obviously travels well. It certainly goes down well . If you try a drop of Hophead you just have to keep trying it. If not go away and drink Rum and Ribena or whatever you fancy in some binge bar, Pubology is not for you.

A further perambulation in East Sussex featuring the Three Just Pubologists brought us to the SEVEN STARS in Robertsbridge. This amazing rambling old smugglers haunt dates from around 1380. As always there are stairs, passages, nooks and corners everywhere. It also has extensive cellars and many tunnels led to them. Some of the smugglers have never been able to find their way out as apparently there are a multitude of ghosts. As a Harvey's pub I'm sure they are quite happy with what is in the cellars.

Still in Sussex we move West to what is probably the oldest Pub that side of the county, The STAR at Rusper. No one seems to know how old. 14 hundred and something. The beams lean every which way, and the floors slope other ways. It stands at a country crossroads as befits an old Coaching Inn. It is a comfortable haven. If you go further, and cross the Surrey border you can find at Leigh which dates from 1637.

To find The FIVE POINTED STAR you will have to go back East into West Malling in Kent. Another intriguing old beamed Pub of which no one in residence seems to know the history.

Last, and certainly not least back to East Sussex again for The STAR in Alfriston, the splendid village which has three of the greatest golden oldies all a few steps away from each other. The Star is from 1450 and has amazing medieval carvings on the frontage and is guarded by a fierce ship's figurehead. It is safe to go inside and you should. The wrought iron sign has a sixteen pointed Star. In 1634 the Worshipful Company of Innkeepers used this type of Star as a symbol for their Coat of Arms.

These are just a few of the South Eastern Stars - Every evening throughout Britain Stars twinkle and you can reach them if you wish.

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