Day Six: 7 November 2010

This day, a Sunday, was pretty much a 'stay-at-home' with Nick and Pat.   We didn't do any heavy-duty touring around, which was rather nice, actually.

We did, however, go on the 'fortnightly food shop' at a fantastic supermarket called "Waitrose".   It's a bit on the upscale side, with a lot of organic produce and specialty items.  I just went on their Web site and discovered the company has a Royal Warrant--meaning, they supply food and other items to the Royal Family.  In the course of our shopping excursion, I noticed foodstuffs from the Duchy of Cornwall,--and Prince Charles is also, among his other titles, Duke of Cornwall.   He's very much into organic farming, so all the food I saw was natural and organic, with no preservatives or artificial stuff.

What was really lovely about Waitrose was it was not very crowded, even on a Sunday morning.  And it was blessedly free of any sort of piped-in music!   It was just the sound of shopping trolleys and low chatter amongst customers.  A wonderful change from the usual annoying Muzak atmosphere in US stores!!

I was fascinated by the sorts of foods available in Waitrose: a lot of regional specialties and British favorites, like 'treacle tart'--which Pat bought for our Sunday lunch.   While browsing the shelves, I came across some items with the characters Wallace and Gromit on them; they are very popular in the UK, created by a Brit named Nick Park.   Wallace is a Wensleydale cheese-loving aspiring inventor, and Gromit is his dog (and sensible 'silent partner').   I almost squealed with delight, when I saw "Wallace's Double Chocolate-Chip Muffin Kit"--and Nick and Pat bought it for me!   I decided to get it for my sister and brother-in-law back home, who are huge Wallace and Gromit fans.

Nick and Pat paid for their purchases, and we trundled off to the car, and put them in the boot.   Then we were off for a short trip up into the Malvern Hills: a 'beauty spot' high above Worcester, and not far from the Welsh border.    Many of the towns in the Hills have "Malvern" in them: "Little Malvern", "Great Malvern", etc..   A lot of aflluent Brits own second homes in the Malvern Hills, and many of them looked like small Italian villas.  

We also saw one lovely old manor house, called Madresfield Court, that Nick and Pat said was author Evelyn Waugh's inspiration for his novel Brideshead Revisited!   I wish I'd gotten a photo of it now.   The photo of the manor house above isn't mine.   It's from Wikipedia.

I did get a glance of how high the Malverns are: I'd say they were about 2000 feet or so, and they tower over the valley to the west.  The road is twisting and a bit narrow as you go up to one of the high points, and I still can't get used to the fact the British drive on the left side of the road.   It's a little unnerving for the first-time visitor!

The Malvern Hills also have lots of springs, and Her Majesty the Queen gets her bottled water from these Hills, and the locals also take advantage of the spring water too.   I had some of this water in my London hotel, and it's very refreshing.

Eventually, we made our way back home to Worcester, where I helped Nick and Pat get the grocery bags out of the boot.   Soon it was time for that wonderful British tradition, the Sunday lunch.   Pat prepared homemade chicken soup, baked ham with roasted potatoes, and creamed zucchini, with the Waitrose treacle tart with cream for dessert.  And again, we chatted away about various and sundry subjects!    One subject Nick brought up was the differing proportions of casualties between the two World Wars.  In the First, there were more Infantry casualties.   But, due to the air war against civilians in the Second, there were more non-military casualties.   Something I never considered before!

We then cleared the lunch table (Pat placed most of the dishes in the dishwasher), and then removed ourselves to the front parlor, where the Beechings perused the Sunday Telegraph.  I joined them in a few minutes, after gazing through the shelves in their library.  LOTS of books to choose from; it was hard to make a decision!   Eventually, I settled on a biography of French Marshal Philippe Petain, First World War hero, and Vichy French leader in the Second World War.   It was a quiet and peaceful way to spend Sunday afternoon: so quiet, in fact, that I fell asleep in my chair!

As dusk fell, Nick turned on the TV to watch the cricket results (he's a HUGE cricket fan) and the ITN news, before we tuned into the Results Show of Strictly Come Dancing--the UK's version of our Dancing With the Stars.   Come to think of it: I believe the US version was inspired by the UK one!   Nick and Pat are huge fans of the show; participants this time included actress Felicity Kendal, and a former MP named Ann Widdecombe (who wasn't the least bit svelte at all!).  Both ladies made it to the next round.   It's a rather campy show, and good for a laugh!

After SCD, we watched Antiques Roadshow, and this week's episode came from the British Museum in London.   One of the items being appraised this week was a series of photographs taken at the 1943 Teheran Conference between the Big Three: Winston Churchill, Franklin D. Roosevelt, and Soviet leader Joseph Stalin--and it included a thank-you note signed by Mr. Churchill.   Also appraised were inlaid tables, painted miniatures--and a ring once owned by Hungarian Jews before WW2, which had been buried by the owners before they were taken to Auschwitz and murdered by the Nazis in 1944.   It was a beautiful ring inlaid with rubies and diamonds.

The amazing thing about this documentary was the aerial view over the Belgian town of Ypres, site of three separate and lengthy campaigns in the First World War.  This aerial footage was shot a year after the Armistice.  Ypres itself was completely destroyed by the Germans: its beautiful medieval Cloth Hall, and nearby St Martin's Cathedral, were totally obliterated as landmarks.

Another, very moving, thing was the backstory: the pilot (whose name I can't remember, sadly) joined the French Resistance, along with his wife, in the Second World War.   Sadly, he was betrayed, captured, tortured and shot, as was his wife--after being forced to dig their own graves.   They left a small daughter, who was hidden away after their deaths.  The program's presenter, Fergal Keane,  met the now-grown daughter in France, and showed her the film her father had helped create: she saw him turn towards the cameraman and smile.   The daughter began to cry, and she felt that her father had come back to life for her.   And that smile was for her.   It was hard not to be moved by such a story....

Mr Keane also talked with several First World War historians as he walked through a re-created trench line in Belgium, and braved a ride in a vintage wartime biplane over the Western Front.   He definitely held on for dear life!   He also visited Tyne Cot Cemetery near the Belgian town of Passchendaele (of which more I will write about later), which is the largest British and Commonwealth cemetery in Europe: over 12,000 graves, of which more than 8000 are Unknowns.   And that's not counting the names on a massive Memorial Wall in the cemetery's rear!

Soon, it was time to 'head for Bedfordshire' again, and to also pack to get ready to go back to London the next day.   It would not be easy leaving Worcester, and Nick and Pat; they were so very generous with their hospitality!   And it's something I'll never forget.

Day Five: 6 November 2010

Today was a day to explore Worcester in depth.   After breakfast, Nick and I headed out and down the hill.  Pat stayed behind to do some things at home.

Nick led the way back down the hill we traveled the evening before.   It was a dry but chilly Saturday as we walked, and traffic was beginning to build.  Our first stop was the lovely Worcester Cathedral, situated on the banks of the River Severn.  The Cathedral was founded in 680, but the current structure dates from between 1084 and 1504, and represents several architectural styles, from Norman to Perpendicular.   It's small as cathedrals go, but very easy to explore inside.  It is also the burial place of Arthur Prince of Wales, Henry VIII's older brother, Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin--and 'bad' King John, who signed Magna Carta in 1215.

When King John (tomb photo left) died suddenly at Newark in 1216, he had requested beforehand to be buried in Worcester Cathedral.  No one quite knows why...

Nick and I had a great time walking round the Cathedral interior.   One of our stops was in St George's Chapel, which is dedicated to Worcestershire Regiment soldiers killed in both World Wars.   Various Regimental Colors hang from the ceiling in this chapel from several wars, and there is a very long list of Worcestershire men who died in the First World War on one of the walls.   Nick is doing research on the Worcestershires, and gave me a short run-down of their service.   These men took terrible casualties at both Gallipoli with the Australians and New Zealanders, and on the Western Front.  But they also served successfully in campaigns in the Middle East, in Syria and pre-1948 Israel, freeing both countries from Turkish Ottoman domination.   Nick gave me quite an excellent education about the Worcestershires and their Great War service!

Worcester Cathedral is a very compact place to visit, as mentioned above.   During the English Civil War, Worcester was a Royalist city, and the last major battle of that war was fought outside its gates in 1651.   When Oliver Cromwell and his men took control, they damaged the cathedral's interior, whitewashing over 'papist' medieval frescoes and the like.  

I wonder if they stabled their horses within the Cathedral too, after smashing stained-glass windows and statues?

But there is also beautiful stained-glass windows, both restored and post-war (the latter in St George's Chapel).   I only took two photos, but they are perfect examples of their beauty: for instance, the photo right is the Cathedral's West Window.

The second one will be of interest to classical music-lovers.  It is a window dedicated to the memory of Worcester's famous native son, Sir Edward Elgar (below left).   

Elgar composed such well-known pieces as the "Pomp and Circumstance Marches" (including the one heard during every College and High School Commencement season, the March No. 1 in D), and the "Enigma Variations".  He and his wife are buried in a town close to Worcester, in the Malvern Hills.

And speaking of music: since 1719, Worcester Cathedral has been part of the oldest continuing choral festival in the world: The "Three Choirs Festival", held every August.   It is held alternatively by the cathedrals of Worcester, Gloucester and Hereford.   This year, it was Gloucester's turn to host the Festival.

Upon leaving the Cathedral precincts, Nick and I made our way to Worcester's High Street, or main shopping district.   It is dominated at one end by a statue of Sir Edward Elgar (photo below right).   Nick says that the statue is a good place for the locals to meet.   And Pat said later that Worcester citizens refer to Elgar as "Ted"!

The High Street  was quite busy with pedestrians and shoppers on this Saturday morning.  Worcester's High Street is closed to car traffic for most of its length, and is lined with various shops and other businesses.   Along the way, we passed by The Guildhall, which is the seat of Worcester's City Council. 

Along with its function as the home of Worcester's city Government, the Guildhall  also hosts various local fundraising events.  On this Saturday, the Worcester Animal Rescue Shelter was holding one such event.

During our walk, we stopped at the main train station to pick up a

schedule for me, for my return to London on Monday.   Then Nick led the way off the High Street, and we took a short-cut through some less-crowded side streets, which held some wonderful ancient architecture in its shops and pubs.

The buildings off the High Street are really interesting: you can see examples of Tudor-era (16th-century) architecture, with its half-timbered and sometimes-crooked look, or Georgian-era (18-century) architecture, with the brick facades and clean lines.   

One of the most historical is the King Charles Pub (photo left).   It is directly connected with King Charles II, and the aftermath of the Battle of Worcester, in September 1651.   When the Royalist forces lost the battle, the King literally hid out in this building, to avoid capture by the Parliamentarian, or Roundhead, forces.   There is a sign to the right of the pub's front door, describing the royal 'hideout'.

I wonder what would have happened to King Charles II, had he been captured?   Would he have been held for ransom, perhaps?   Or could he have faced the executioner's axe, as his unfortunate father, King Charles I, had, in January 1649?

Our last tour stop of the day was at a most interesting museum called The Commandery.  It's now a multi-faceted and multi-layered museum, covering several time-periods, in which the building was
used: the Medieval, the Tudor, the English Civil War, the Georgian, the Victorian, and the 20th-century.

When we entered The Commandery, we paid our admission and were given hand-sets like the one I used at Westminster Abbey.   Depending on what number you pressed, you could get explanations as to how the building was used in those different historical periods.  During medieval days, it was used as a hospital for the poor and destitute, and it was run by the Church.   In Tudor times, The Commandery was home to the Wyldes family, who were wealthy wool merchants.  In the Georgian period, The Commandery was split up into several family homes; while in the Victorian era, it housed a school for the 'blind sons of gentlemen".   Finally, in the 1950s, it housed a printing factory owned by the Littlebury family.

As you can see, The Commandery definitely had a multi-use history!

Nick and I eventually both chose the English Civil War, and we walked about at our own pace, as a narrator described in sometimes-graphic detail what happened to the Royalist forces who tried to flee the pursuing Roundheads (as Cromwell's forces were sometimes called), and were trapped, killed and wounded here, after the Battle of Worcester.   Some of the rooms had no furnishings whatsoever, so you had to use your imagination as to the particular event taking place.  In one room, which was used as a hospital for wounded and dying soldiers, I turned a corner and was startled: to my right was a small bed, with what looked like a dead soldier lying in it!

One room in The Commandery had medieval frescoes on its walls, which had been whitewashed over by Cromwell's men, but were recently uncovered.   They depicted Biblical scenes like the Crucifixion of Jesus, and also the martyrdom of St Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury.   One particularly gruesome fresco was of the death of a St Erasmus, who was lashed to a windlass, and had his intestines slowly twisted out....can we say EEEEEWWWW?!?

I'm sorry I didn't get any photos of The Commandery either inside or out.   It really was a most fascinating place to visit!

By now, Nick and I had spent several hours in total on foot, and we were both quite footsore, so we headed back up the hill to home, and to Pat, who was catching up on household things.   We had a delicious lunch of toasted, thick-breaded sandwiches, and then settled down for the rest of the day.  Nick got the Saturday edition of The Daily Telegraph, and I went upstairs to write and take a short nap.   I probably slept for an hour or so, and felt much refreshed.  I then went back downstairs and joined Nick in the front parlor, where he was watching a rugby match on TV.

We had a splendid supper that evening: Pat made chicken pie with carmelized squash, roasted little potatoes, and a lovely berry crumble for dessert.   Pat is an awesome cook, and everything was SO good!   And of course, the three of us chattered away about all kinds of subjects.

I'd forgotten to mention that, during lunch, Pat described what she and Nick grew in their backyard garden.  This year they grew roses, tomatoes--and, strangely, a bamboo plant!   In Pat's words, it was 'big enough to hide a Japanese battalion'!!   I never knew bamboo could grow like that in the UK.

After supper, and the dishes were put in the dishwasher, the Beechings and I went into the front parlor and watched an excellent BBC documentary on the last day of the First World War: 11 November 1918.  It was presented by Michael Palin, and he told the stories of several soldiers who died in the last hours of the war: British, French, Canadian and American.   There was also one absolutely horrific sequence about the reconstruction of an English soldier's face, after half of it had been literally blown off.   The surgery was done at Queen Mary's Hospital in Kent.   That poor fellow: how long did he survive after that experience??   And this was in the early days of reconstructive surgery!

When that program was over, there wasn't much else on TV, so we switched it off, and chatted some more.   The conversation turned to the American Civil War, and Nick went out of the room to get a treasured book from his childhood: The Golden Book of the Civil War.   It was written for children in the early 1960s--the Centennial of the ACW--by the well-known historian Bruce Catton.   Nick said his parents bought it for him when he was 12 years old, and he was especially drawn to the battle maps, and the tiny 'fallen soldiers' depicted.   It was SUCH a cool book!

It was now rather late, so we all three retired 'to Bedfordshire', as Nick said (a wonderfully British way of saying "time to go to sleep"!).   It was a most enjoyable day spent with my dear British friends!

Day Four: 5 November 2010

This day was a travel day out of London: I took a train from London Paddington station, and headed north to the city of Worcester, to spend a few days with my friends Nick and Pat Beeching.

Before leaving for the train station, I decided to attend a Communion Service at Westminster Abbey, before it became crawling with tourists.   I inquired at the West Door as to where the Service was being held, and was directed to St Faith's Chapel, very close by Poets' Corner.   I was greeted at the chapel door by the presiding priest and his assistant, and an elderly Anglican nun, and then found a place facing a simple altar with a lovely medieval image standing above.   We were soon joined by two gentlemen, who might have been office or Government workers.   But it was a wonderfully intimate (if I can use the word) small gathering.

No music was used; the prayers and responses were all spoken, and I simply followed the others' lead.   We were easily able to 'share the Peace' with each other, and the priest gave me a firm, but not crunching, handshake.   One of the men actually WINKED at me!

When it came time to receive the Communion elements, we all moved to the small sanctuary, and sat on padded benches on either side.   We then stood in a small semicircle as the priest and his assistant offered the elements in both species (bread and wine).   It was an awesome moment for me personally; I haven't attended a church service, nor received Communion, in a very long time.   The silence within that small chapel was immense!   It filled the room with a sense of peace I've not felt in many years.   And it also gave me a sense of being part of the Abbey's nearly-thousand-year-old worshiping community.  It was a wonderful gift from God!

After the Service was over, I had a chance to chat briefly with the priest, whose name was Nick; I tried to explain to him the feelings I had at that moment.   I was probably yammering senselessly (how does one explain the unexplainable??).   But Nick understood what I was trying to say; and I also told him I would be returning for the Remembrance Sunday service on 14 November.   I thanked him again for the lovely service, and made my way out of the Abbey--pausing again at the Tomb of the Unknown Warrior.

Leaving the Abbey by the West Door, I turned right towards the Houses of Parliament.   I snapped several photos of the statues of Oliver Cromwell (photo left) and King Richard the Lionhearted (the former faces the rear of the Abbey, and the latter 'stands guard' in front of Westminster Hall, the oldest surviving part of the former Palace of Westminster).  Along the way, I dodged Government workers heading to their jobs.

It was now almost 9 am, and I made my way back to my hotel to gather my suitcase, and get to Victoria Station, to catch my train to Worcester.   The hotel got a taxi for me, and I climbed aboard.  

The London taxis are so cool: they have no boot (or rear trunk, as we say in the States), so they have tons of seating room in back.   My driver was a Canadian man, from Halifax, Nova Scotia.  He told me he comes to the UK three months out of the year, to drive a London taxi; he said his father and grandfather did the same thing!

It was a short drive to Victoria Station.   On the way, we went the opposite end of Buckingham Gate, and I discovered the road ended up right beside Buckingham Palace!!!  I made a mental note to go see the palace when I returned from Belgium, and to the Crowne Plaza St James Hotel.

When I got to Victoria Station, I paid my taxi fare and went to the Underground station, to catch the Tube to London Paddington for my Worcester train; I had quite an adventure dragging my heavy bag down a couple of flights of stairs.   But a couple of commuters saw my dilemma, and kindly assisted me with the darned thing.   I must have held up lots of foot traffic in my struggles.  But the British people I encountered were understanding and patient, which was a great blessing.   I found the right platform, and got aboard for my short trip to Paddington station.

I think I was in the station for about an hour, and I had a nice chat with an American college student, who was in London on her college's Studies Abroad program (Arcadia College in Pennsylvania); she'd been in London since August, and also told me that her father is British.  We helped an elderly British lady watch her baggage while the latter went to the "Loo", and generally passed the time pleasantly.   Eventually, my Worcester train arrived, and I found the right platform and got aboard.   I put my big bag in a nearby storage spot, and settled back for my journey northward.

The train journey was overall quite enjoyable.   It was a gray day in London, but still dry.   But as the train left Paddington, it started to become foggy and drizzly.   The further we got from London, the more mist and fog we saw.   But through the drizzle, I did manage to see some still-green countryside, filled with sheep flocks (LOTS of sheep!), some horses....and something I've not seen for a long time: pheasants!!   They mingled amongst the sheep, or in the now-bare fields, pecking away, looking for food.   I must have seen around 12-15 ring-necked pheasants all told.

The fields are enclosed by hedgerows; not as large as those found in Normandy in June 1944, during the Second World War--but just tall enough to discourage most farm animals from straying.   The horses were small and sturdy, and a bit on the shaggy side, with their winter coats, or wearing thermal blankets.   Some of the sheep had black faces.   But they all looked like cotton-puffs against the green fields.

We passed by several cities and towns on our journey.   The largest ones were Reading and Oxford; others were smaller, such as Evesham and Moreton-in-Marsh.   I love the names like the latter, and wonder how they got those names!

It was now steadily raining, by the time I reached Worcester in the late afternoon.   When I got through the station to the taxi-stand area, I called my friend Nick Beeching on my mobile, to let him know I'd arrived.   And before I knew it, he came to the station (turned out he lived not far from it!).   He gave me a welcoming hug, and we caught a taxi back to his home.   It was on a narrow and winding street: St Dunstan's Crescent (photo below), and the house is a lovely Victorian-era brick building: cozy high-ceilinged front parlor and library on the ground floor, with spacious kitchen in the back, and a nice-sized walled garden.

Nick took my bag, and helped me deposit it in the upstairs computer room, which doubles as a guest room.   It is literally lined with BOOKS on so many subjects: British and World History, both World Wars, the Cold War, the American and English Civil Wars, the American Revolution....and not just in the computer room.   The downstairs front parlor, the corridor to the kitchen, the library, the upstairs corridor and back room are filled to the brim with books---collected both by Nick, and his lovely wife Pat.   I'd venture to guess that there must be a couple thousand books altogether--enough for a good-sized public library!

Over a cup of tea in the kitchen, Nick and I chatted about historical subjects.   We first 'met' online, when he visited my Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain Web site in the late 1990s (he is an American Civil War enthusiast, and admirer of General Chamberlain).   Since then, we've chatted online about modern British life, the First and Second World Wars, and many other interesting subjects.   Nick works for the National Health Service (NHS) in IT, and his wife Pat is a lawyer.  

At the moment, Nick is also doing research on the Worcestershire Regiments in the First World War--mainly on the socioeconomic backgrounds of the men, rather than on what campaigns they were involved in.   He is also working with a mentor at the University of Birmingham, who specializes in the First World War, and hopes to put his research in writing for publication.

Around 5 pm, Nick and I left the house, to walk into Worcester and meet Pat and her boss from her law office at a local pub.   We literally walked downhill in the continuing drizzle to a local pub, the Olde Talbot--(photo left) where we sat and waited for Pat and her boss to arrive.   When Pat walked in, she greeted me with a big smile and a friendly hug, and we sat down and ordered drinks (Nick had a beer, Pat ordered wine, and I had an orange juice).   Pat's boss, Penny, came in shortly thereafter, and we all had a wonderful chat.

Pat is originally from Scotland, and she and Nick met while at Oxford University.   They both love history, and have visited the US on several American Civil War battlefield tours.  They've visited Gettysburg; Richmond, VA; Georgia, and Franklin, TN--and the battlefields of Antietam in Maryland, and Spotsylvania Court House in Virginia, as well as Washington DC (they particularly enjoyed the Smithsonian Institution's Air and Space Museum).   Both Nick and Pat inquired about how I was enjoying my UK visit so far.

Penny is also a delightful lady; she is from Cornwall, and had also done some traveling in the US.   She visited Boston, so I was particularly interested in how a British visitor sees, and feels, about the sites related to the American Revolution.   The conversation also turned to what life was like in the UK during the Second World War, especially in 1940, when the danger of imminent Nazi invasion was very real.   We could have chattered on and on all night long!

Eventually, our chat-time came to an end, so we wished Penny good-night, and headed back up the hill to the Beechings' home.   By now, my big toes were in some pain (I definitely picked the wrong shoes to wear, for all the walking I was doing!), but I made it safely.   Pat led the way; Nick came second, and I was the straggler of the bunch!

It was now around 7 pm, and we were all famished!   Pat changed her work clothes, and went to the kitchen to prepare supper: haddock and chips!   I offered to help, but she assured me she had things under control, so I sat at the kitchen table and chatted with her and Nick.   Supper was awesome: huge baked haddock and chips, with green beans and peas.   We also had chocolate pudding--but not the sort of 'pudding' we Americans think of: British pudding is baked in the oven, and tastes like a crunchy cake!  Ours was topped off with clotted cream, and it was washed down with wine (I even took a glass!).

Our supper conversation covered a wide range of subjects: their parents and grandparents (Nick has some Jewish ancestry--including a relative who served in the French Resistance in WW2!), their American Civil War travels, and films like "Gettysburg".  Nick and Pat have walked the field of "Pickett's Charge" at Gettysburg--in the heat of a Pennsylvania summer!  I also shared with them my UK travel experiences so far, and the anticipation of meeting Sir Martin Gilbert in London, and Churchill College Archivist Allen Packwood in Cambridge later in the trip.   All in all, it was a fantastic evening: it felt like we had known each other for years!

Eventually, we bid each other good-night, and I went upstairs to write, and eventually crash.   The next day, Nick would take me round Worcester, to see the sights.