Woods, fields, Stanley and Elvis

Last Sunday the weather was glorious so i decided to take myself off for a walk in the nearby village of Pirbright. I had found details of the walk on a website somewhere and had long wanted to try it out. I parked up by the beautiful village green and set off towards the parish church.

I love churchyards as any readers of my Blog would probably have gathered! I love the history and stories associated with the headstones. Pirbright churchyard did not disappoint. There, in the shade of some trees was a large and magnificent headstone belonging to none other than Henry Morton Stanley. Who? you may ask.

Well, as every British man or woman of a certain age will tell you Stanley was quite an interesting character. He
was born John Rowlands on 28 January 1841 in Denbigh, Wales. His parents were not married, and he was brought up in a workhouse. In 1859, he left for New Orleans. There he was befriended by a merchant, Henry Stanley, whose name he took. Stanley went on to serve on both sides in the American Civil War and then worked as a sailor and journalist. In 1867 Stanley became special correspondent for the New York Herald.

Two years later he was commissioned by the paper to go to Africa and search for Scottish missionary and explorer David Livingstone, of whom little had been heard since 1866 when he had set off to search for the source of the Nile. Stanley reached Zanzibar in January 1871 and proceeded to Lake Tanganyika, Livingstone's last known location. There in November 1871 he found the sick explorer, greeting him with the famous words 'Dr Livingstone, I presume?' Stanley's reports on his expedition made him a household name.

When Livingstone died in 1873, Stanley resolved to continue his exploration of the region, funded by the Herald and a British newspaper. He explored vast areas of central Africa, and travelled down the length of the Lualaba and Congo Rivers, reaching the Atlantic in August 1877, after an epic journey.Failing to gain British support for his plans to develop the Congo region, Stanley found more success with King Leopold II of Belgium, who was eager to tap Africa's wealth. In 1879, with Leopold's support, Stanley returned to Africa where he worked to open the lower Congo to commerce by the construction of roads. Competition with French interests in the region helped bring about the Berlin Conference (1884-5) in which European powers sorted out their competing colonial claims in Africa.

Stanley's efforts paved the way for the creation of the Congo Free State, privately owned by Leopold.In 1890, now back in Europe, Stanley married and then began a worldwide lecture tour. He became MP for Lambeth in south London, serving from 1895 to 1900. He was knighted in 1899. He died in London on 10 May 1904 and was buried here in the churchyard at Pirbright where he had his home.

I carried on with my walk following the signpost for public footpaths, clambering over wooden stiles and through kissing gates, going over fallow fields, over farm land, paddocks and into dark woods. A really varied landscape over only a few miles.
A small hillock on the edge of a meadow.

One of the many stiles. This one leading into dense woodland.

One of the many beautiful houses encounted during my walk.

Nearing the end of my walk i passed over Pirbright Common and found myself walking along a narrow track past some old nurseries. I turned a corner and had the fright of my life. There leaning against a wooden gate was a very realistic looking scarecrow dressed up as Elvis Presley. I don't know if it scared the birds, but it sure scared the hell out of me!

Elvis is alive and well and living in Surrey.

Lest we forget....Part Two

Brookwood Military cemetery is one of my favourite places and i made another visit there last weekend.I particularly wanted to spend more time wandering around the American and British Commonwealth sections which i had neglected to do on a previous visit.

The American cemetery is set amongst beautiful woodland.

The American Cemetery is the only American Military Cemetery of World War 1 in the British Isles. 468 war dead of the USA rest here. Most of those buried died in Great Britain or it's surrounding waters. They include victims of the SS Tuscania which was sunk by a German submarine on February 5th 1918 off the west coast of Scotland. Additionally, the names of 563 Americans who gave their lives in the service of their country and whose graves are at sea are inscribed on the walls of the chapel. Most served with the United States Navy or United States Coastguard including 114 from the US coastguard cutter TAMPA which was also sunk by a German submarine in the Bristol Channel on September 26th 1918.

The construction and care of this 4.5 acre site is the responsibility of the American Battle Monuments Commission, an agency of the United States government. The adjacent World War 1 and World War 2 cemeteries and monuments were developed and are maintained by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission.The gravestones of Privates Penberthy and Reed.

I always find walking among the gravestones quite poignant. Looking at the inscriptions i wander who was Private Arthur E Penberthy of Illinois or Private Walter D Reed of West Virginia? What are their stories. What did their families go through when the learnt of their son's or brother's death in a war thousands of miles away in a foreign land?

A distant view to the American Military Memorial Chapel.

I walked further until i was in the Commonwealth part of Brookwood Military Cemetery. Here there are graves of hundreds of British, Canadian, South African and Indian soldiers from both world wars. This section i find most moving, not only because of the beautifully kept and verdant grounds, but because reading the incriptions of the dead servicemen reminds me how young these brave men were. Most were only in their early or mid teens.

Along each row are small flowering plants and shrubs.

Row upon row of war graves.

In the British cemetary it really re-inforces how young these men were and what responsibilities they had on their young shoulders. Just two examples i noted from the inscriptions. The first read "Sergeant G. F. Barker-Benfield, Pilot, Royal Air Force. Died September 1941. Aged 19".
The second read "Sergeant R. C. Livings, Wireless operator/Air gunner, Royal Air Force. Died May 1941. Aged 18. These were just two of hundreds buried here. Again, what are their stories? It made me shudder to think that two of my children are these ages. All they appear worry about is their Facebook page, computer games, clothes, and having a good time. Just two generations ago boys of their age were fighting for their lives on a daily basis. How or indeed would teenagers cope if called upon to fight for their country?

The Free French Forces cemetery.

Spring is here!

I've never been much of a gardener. Don't get me wrong, i love my garden, but i was never one to prune and pot and weed. My idea of gardening was to mow the lawn and occasionally cut the edges!
However nature has been calling me recently (is it an age thing?) and i have begun to notice the shrubs dotted around my garden and in particular the sheer beauty of the individual buds and blossoms that have appeared over the last couple of weeks.

I have had only a modicum of interest before, but now look in wonderment at the intricate designs, colours and perfections of the flowers and petals of the shrubs dotted around my garden. Isn't nature wonderful!

I am posting a few images to share with you. I admit that i don't know the names of the shrubs, but hope that i can convey the splendour and magnificence of nature that we see, but sometimes fail to notice every day.

On my doorstep

Low bridge and lock gate

Within a four to five minute walk away from where i live is the Basingstoke Canal. I use the canal for convenience for walking to the nearby village of St. Johns or the much longer walk into Woking if i don't want the hassle or expense of parking the car. Like most locals i tend to take the canal for granted. However the other day i went out for another of my walks and this time took my camera with me. This gave me a chance to take my time, take a step back and look at the canal from a totally different perspective.
A view along the tow path

I hadn't appreciated the beauty and living landscape that was literally on my doorstep. The day was damp, slightly misty and still. There was hardly anyone around apart from the odd jogger. I just wandered along taking the odd photograph of anything that interested me.
Interesting shapes and contrasts

Reflections in the water

Spring daffodils on the canal bank

When i got home and uploaded the photographs i had taken and had a really good look at them i realised how lucky i was to live close by and have access to such a beautiful environment the beauty of which up to now had generally passed me by. I hope the scenes that i have posted convey just how beautiful this man made stretch of water is.
An unusual angle!

An lovely plaque attached to one of the bridges

Another of the many lock gates along the canal

Lest we forget.....

Row upon row of war dead

A few weeks ago i needed a good long walk to get my thoughts together and decided i'd take a walk around Brookwood cemetery which although only a couple of miles away i had never previously visited. Wow, what had i been missing!

A short history. In 1850 Parliament ordered the closure of the more crowded churchyards in London and a search was commissioned for a new site of sufficient size and splendour to serve the burial needs of London for at least 500 years. To meet these demands Brookwood cemetery was created in 1854 covering over 2000 acres and situated only 25 miles from the centre of London. Every effort was made to ensure that the cemetery was beautiful and restful so there was a wealth of exotic shrubs planted by some of the leading gardeners from Kew Gardens. When it first opened Brookwood was the largest cemetery in Europe.

A distinguishing feature of Brookwood cemetery was the cemetery railway with coffins and mourners conveyed from a private station adjacent to Waterloo station in London, down into the cemetery. The funeral trains stopped running after the private London terminus was bombed in April 1941.

Brookwood cemetery incorporates an impressive Military Section which is run under the supervision of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission. Each section has its own special area which can be identified by the impressive national monuments in memory of those who died for their country. Perhaps the most impressive monument of all is the Brookwood Memorial, unveiled by the Queen in 1958 in memory of the allied war dead who fell with no known war grave and whose names are carved on panels of green slate inset upon the faces of the supporting piers.The Czechoslovak cemetery

The Polish war dead memorial

There is even a Latvian section

Walking around Brookwood cemetary is not depressing, in fact i found it to be uplifting. Ambling amongst the war graves reading some of the inscriptions was humbling and focused the mind on the very young men who died in the name of freedom, most far away from their own homeland.

Grave of a Victoria Cross holder

Away from the war cemetery there are restful Glades of Remembrance for those who preferred cremation and various burial sites for different faiths, denominations and countries. I walked for over three hours and could have stayed all day. I kept discovering different sites and unusual graves. There is even a Greek Orthodox church within the grounds. If you ever get a chance to visit, do so. It's a fantastic place full of history.

Part of the Muslim section

The Glades of Remembrance

Snow and more snow (or don't kids do the funniest things!)

Waking up to snow

Snowbound at home

Last Monday morning we woke up to a heavy snowfall which to the rest of Europe would have been regarded as a mere smattering, but bought havoc to the usually snow free South of England. No snow ploughs, no grit on the roads, absolute chaos. The authorities said that if your journey was not really necessary then do not travel and stay at home. The schools were closed so the children were at home so (very reluctantly of course!) i decided to take a day off work and stay at home too (who am i to go against the authority's wishes).

Anyway, snow always brings out the child in me, so within a few minutes me and the thirteen year old were outside throwing snowballs and taking photographs. Believe it or not this was the deepest snow that the thirteen year old had seen so for him it was quite an experience. For me it was wonderful just watching him enjoy himself so much.

Snow glorious snow!

After a while i began to feel the cold and went indoors for a hot drink and some warmth and was replaced by my wife and daughter who set about building a snowman (as you do) on the front lawn. I have to admit that they made a pretty good job of it.
The daughter and the snowman

The youngest son, who was still outside then declared that he wanted to strip off and run in the snow, presumedly to prove his manliness (is that a word?) or to perform some ancient rite that thirteen year olds have to do.
Stripped for action.

Later during the morning the snow stopped and the daughter's boyfriend arrived. Upon hearing of the youngest son's exploits they decided to get in on the act and take photographs of themselves so they could show their friends. Personally i think Facebook has a lot to answer for!
Cool dudes in the snow

Cooling off!

A "murmuring of starlings" for New Year!

May i wish everyone that comes across my posts a happy and prosperous new year. I hope that the credit crunch/recession doesn't treat you too badly.

I had a fairly quiet family Christmas this year. No major expensive presents because of the financial situation. Saying that we didn't miss the lack of gifts one bit and had a lovely relaxed time.

We spent a day and night at my sister-in-laws in Somerset over the holiday and had a great get together. We have visited them several times now at New Year and as they live right out in the country, it has become a sort of tradition for us all to enjoy a really long hard walk. This year we parked the cars in one of Somerset's nature reserves and walked through the reserve and on until we were at Glastonbury where we had a refreshingly hot drink before retracing our steps back to our parked cars.

On the way back we were privileged to witness the arrival of millions of starlings returning at dusk to roost in the reed beds overnight at the nature reserve. Their display before landing was quite spectacular. It was like a swarm with different moving clouds going this way and that. I'm told that when they fly together in such large numbers it is known as a "murmuring of starlings". Quite delightful.

My first experience of Cyprus

A photo of my daughter in Paphos taken by my son.

I have just spent a week in Cyprus with my family attending my nephew's wedding. It was my first experience of Cyprus and the first time i have been abroad in over three years. We stayed near Paphos in an area known as Coral Bay. The weather for late October/early November was pleasantly warm with a couple of days extremely hot which leads me to conclude that it would definately be too warm for me there in the summer months.

My first impressions of the island were not good. There was a lot of unfinished building work which made the place feel very untidy and stark. Maybe the credit crunch and downturn in property sales was having an effect. I hated Coral Bay. It was just a manufactured tourist area. Nothing Cypriot about it. The shops and restaurants were surprisingly expensive which, it seemed to me, only had the intention of separating the tourists from their money.

On the way to Polis in the Cypriot countryside.

However, the local Greek Cypriots we came across were lovely, friendly and helpful. I'm sure my first impressions are a little bit unfair because we did not get the chance to visit the central and eastern parts of the island. Also, it was late , very late in the season and the land was parched and dusty. I would love to go back with more time to spend, maybe in the spring, and discover the real Cyprus.

Stunning scenery in the Trudos Mountains.

I did enjoy the holiday though. I enjoyed the experience of foreign travel again. I enjoyed the flying and airport even though it was stressful. I enjoyed the people watching. The wedding was a fantastic joyous occasion and I enjoyed being with my wife and children as it will probably be the last time we will take a holiday together as a family.

My Grandfather Hamlet - Full of Surprises

Sometimes when researching family history the unexpected comes along that opens up an intriguing new line of enquiry that is so mysterious that it becomes an obsession. So it has happened to me this week.

I've been delving into my family tree and family history for a number of years mostly with success but with some frustrating disappointments. My grandfather, Hamlet was born in Portsmouth in 1888. I found him on the 1891 cencus living with his parents, brothers and sisters. His parents both died within two years of each other leaving Hamlet an orphan at the age of around five. However, frustratingly i could not find him on the 1901 census. Where had he gone? What had happened to him? The next time he turned up was as an 18 year old in the Navy records. But, what was he doing before then?

Several years went by until out of the blue i got an email via the "GenesReunited" website from somebody researching "British Home Children" saying that he had come across the unusual name of Hamlet Wisdom in the Canadian registry of British Home Children and could he be my ancestor?

This is a quote from the British Home Children online directory
"About 100,000 British Home Children (alleged orphans) were sent to Canada and Australia by over 50 British Child Care organizations. These 4-15 year old children worked as indentured farm labourers and domestic servants until they were 18 years old. The British Child Care organizations professed a dominant motive of providing these children with a better life than they would have had in Britain, but they had other ignoble and pecuniary motives. They rid themselves of an unwanted segment of their society and profited when they sold these children to Canadian farmers."

After a bit of online research i found out that Hamlet was in care with Portsmouth council and then for whatever reason been selected by the Bristol Emigration Society to be sent to Canada. The records show that he was sent from Liverpool on the SS Lake Megantic in June 1900 (aged 12) to Quebec and onwards to Saint Johns, New Brunswick. I then looked on the Canadian 1901 census and found him listed as a lodger with a family called Secord. It looks to me that they were part of a farming community. The records say that he returned to England in the winter of 1903/4 (aged 15). The question now is why and how did he return? It was very unusual for these children to return. Where did he get the money for his passage? Who did he travel with? Intriguing questions which i am determined to find out.

My father knew nothing of these events. He was young when Hamlet died and no information was passed down. Personally i just wonder what it was like for a child to be orphaned, taken into care and then sent alone to a far off country. An adventure or purgatory?

I'm a prize winner! (at last)

I'm an avid follower of all things Czech so i always read the online English pages of Radio Prague for a day to day insight into whats happening in the Czech Republic. They feature many interesting articles on daily news, life, culture, history, literature and music amongst other things that i really enjoy clicking through their pages. Every month they have a competion, usually to recognise from clues a famous Czech (living or dead) and you are invited to email in your answer.
Last month i was trawling through as usual and came across the competition. They were asking to name a mystery Czech born person who was a refugee rescued by Sir. Nicholas Winton from Nazi Death camps, taken to England and became a respected film producer and director.
I couldn't believe it. I actually knew the answer! It was Karel Reisz who directed "The French Lieutenant's Woman" starring Meryl Streep and Jeremy Irons. So i dutifully emailed my answer expecting to hear nothing as i have never won anything in my life!
Anyway, i couldn't believe it when a couple of weeks later i received an email from Radio Prague imforming me that i was one of the winners and that they would send me a small prize. Consequently i am now the proud owner of a light purple "Radio Praha" T shirt and a really interesting "History of Prague Radio" booklet.