Back to the Farrell ‘once in Africa’ archives for this final ‘shadows’ post.
Here we have the Maasai Mara in December, a desert date tree, a shadowy glimpse of the Oloololo Escarpment, lots of stunning memories invoked, plus a few pangs for Kenya days long gone.
And talking of gone, where did this month go? Now as ‘November Shadows’ draw to a close, a big round of applause for Becky who has kept so many of us so well occupied.
Cheers, my dear!
Wildegoose Nursery in the Corve Valley has been hosting a special winter opening this week (Thursday – Sunday) – giving us a chance to see the walled garden in its late season colours. Not the brightest of days yesterday, and with rain on the air.
Here’s a reminder of how it looked when we visited in September, this after weeks without rain:
Then and now…
From the tea room window
This is a fine spot for catching one’s breath after climbing Bishop’s Castle’s steep High Street. The bench sits on the footprint of a long gone market hall, built for the town by Edward, eldest son of Robert Clive (as in Clive of India) in 1781. At this time (and until 1926) the manor of Bishop’s Castle was owned by the Clive family, and above the bench is some surviving evidence. This is the Clive family’s (acquired) coat of arms: an Indian elephant and a griffin that once adorned the market hall, and so stood above the town, proclaiming the Clive wealth and power.
This, then, is the view from the bench in the Market Square. (I included it the other day on our walk around the town). All very picturesque. Except, even on a bright autumn afternoon, that Clive coat of arms sheds dark shadows that still linger.
Robert Clive (1725-1774), was the pugnacious offspring of a Shropshire land-owning family. He began his meteoric career as a clerk in the East India Company Madras in 1744. Once in India, he proved an able administrator and ruthless military commander, so efficient in fact, he is credited with securing the power of the East India Company and thus the establishment of British Rule in India.
He returned to England with a vast fortune, equivalent to some 30 million pounds by today’s values. That he was the subject of a parliamentary enquiry for corruption (including examination of his punitive policies while running the East India Company) did not stop him from securing an Irish barony and buying his way into government.
He lived in Mayfair, London and owned estates in Surrey and Ireland, but bought the Shrewsbury seat in 1761 and remained the town’s M.P. until 1774. (Shrewsbury is Shropshire’s county town and nowhere near London). He also deployed his wealth to secure the votes of Bishop’s Castle’s 150 burgesses, so ensuring that this town’s M.P. was also always a member of the Clive family fiefdom. The town already had the reputation as a ‘rotten borough’ i.e. votes for whoever could best bribe the burgesses. Now it became a ‘Pocket Borough’ ruled by Clive friends and relations, a situation that continued until 1832 when The Electoral Reform Act ended direct representation for the town and other ‘rotten boroughs.’
It’s astonishing perhaps to think how one man’s shadow can reach so far – through time and across the world. But then what about those among us today whose material ambitions and global reach affect the lives of millions; I wonder what future historians will have to say of them.
Jude’s Bench Challenge Anniversary
A hard frost overnight, but this morning a big sun; the garden fence lit up; a glow of crab apples.
Passing on brightness among the shadows.
We woke to snow this morning. Not too much and already melting at 8 a.m. but, even so, far too early an occurrence for the time of year.
The first photo shows the kitchen rooflight.
I think it’s likely to be an indoors day.
Becky shows us some very fabulous Norwegian shadows today.
Yesterday we had sun. We did! And a fine afternoon it was for a short tramp up and round the town.
As you can see, Bishop’s Castle is on a steep hill. The header view shows the High Street below the Town Hall. We’re around half way up the hill.
Now I’m walking you backwards, past the Town Hall, past Bamber’s elephant mural into the Market Square, and crossing Salop Street.
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And now I’m turning you right around to look up Bull Street:
And we’re still not at the top.
Bull Street leads to Bull Lane. If we look right and downhill, there’s a fine view of farm fields, doubtless winter wheat and oil seed rape.
But we’re not going down, but left and up to the crossroads where Bull Lane meets Castle Street, Wintles Lane and Montgomery Road.
Now we’re at the top of the town, by the blue house that is growing a fine shadow tree:
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And in the shade, on the house wall opposite, a tribute to our two local Morris dance teams, the Shropshire Bedlams and Martha Rhoden’s Tuppenny Dish
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At the crossroads it’s decision time – to go left and back into town via Castle Street (where there is no castle, only some ground it once sat on and some more good views):
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Or cross the road into Wintles Lane:
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If you want to see the elephant sculpture, then you need to take the Wintles Lane option and follow the footpaths on the right. And climb another hill:
It’s also worth clambering up here for the view of the Long Mynd.
And from here, too, you can turn about and look down on the town. A fine spot on Planet Earth:
This magnificent sundial clock hangs on the wall of Eyam parish church in Derbyshire. It is extraordinarily intricate; something of a world-view 18th century style. It was installed in 1775 by a vicar with illustrious, wide-reaching connections, although the face itself was carved by local stonemason William Shore.
Eyam is probably best known as ‘the plague village’, the isolated High Peak community that chose to isolate itself completely during the 1665-1666 outbreak of the Black Death. A more recent discovery concerning the village is that the DNA analysis of living descendants of survivors shows a marker which indicates immunity to the disease. Amazing to think this can be detected.
Back in the 17th century, Eyam’s inhabitants made their living mostly from farming and lead-mining. The two pursuits went together, the mining carried out in the winter months in open-cast field seams called rakes. I have ancestral connections here. One Robert Fox, yeoman farmer and lead miner, who looks to have arrived in the area post-plague, married second wife Margaret Mower at Eyam church on the 4th June 1682. They are probably 6th great grandparents, but at the very least 6th great uncle and aunt. There are also much earlier Bennet ancestors around Eyam. They intersect with Foxes in the 19th century, that link arriving via 4th great grandfather, hatter, farmer, lead miner and property owner, Robert Jackson. He married Hannah Eyre at Eyam in August 1826. They would have known this clock.
And about that clock. You have to wonder how far Eyam villagers would have been impressed to know the time difference between their spot on the globe and Calicut, Mecca, or Quebec. The single shadow also marks the solstice and equinox days and, for good measure, the months of zodiac are included too. All these intricate details apparently suggest to clock sundial specialists that the designer was the eminent Derby scientist and clockmaker John Whitehurst FRS.
Besides a time marking facility, the clock includes some thought-provoking inscriptions. On the supporting corbels is says: Ut Umbra – Sic Vita – life is but a shadow. And across the top: Induce Animum Sapientem – cultivate a wise spirit.
This last should be a rallying call for our times. For all our, wizkiddery, wise minds seem sorely lacking. This 250 year old clock might be just the device for cultivating a little capacity for critical thinking. It certainly tests mine.
Monochrome Madness: clocks and timepieces This week Margaret at From Pyrenees to Pennines is setting the theme at Leanne’s Monochrome Madness
A bridge for Cee who loved bridges and featured them in some fabulous monochrome shots. Like so many others, I loved taking part in her regular Black & White photo challenge.
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Dinham Bridge over the River Teme in the Shropshire market town of Ludlow was built in the early 1800s. The castle above it had its origins nearly 800 years earlier, soon after the Norman invasion of 1066. It was one of the first stone-built castles under the new regime, sited there to keep the Welsh at bay. Over succeeding centuries it was expanded to the fortress scale whose remains we see today. As with all castles, there were doubtless many shadowy doings, conspiracies and counter-conspiracies within its walls; but its towers caught here in autumn sunshine almost have fairytale looks; so many stories those stones could tell.
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November Shadows #7 Today Becky pays tribute to Cee who meant so much to so many. There are further blogger tributes at links below.
Remembering Cee 7th November Marsha Ingrao at Always Write and Dan Antion at No Facilities are hosting a day to remember Cee; Cee who inspired us with her weekly photo challenges, and was so generous with her knowledge. She embraced so many of us and is sorely missed in the blogging community she so steadfastly embraced and encouraged.
These are the last photos from our Friday day out to Mellington Hall, caught in a brief burst of sunshine. The far glimpse of two swans across the lake had magic in it – a gentle scene for All Hallows’ Eve.
November Shadows Day 4 Becky has the most fabulous shadows on show today. She’s flying high in a mass aerial display.
