Sea breezes June 2013

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Living by the sea...


Saltburn by the sea

June ON-GOING EVENT: Saltburn Arts and The Saltburn School presents SALTBURN MINIATURE RAILWAY EXHIBITION @ The Saltburn School dedicated to Reg Blacklock – photography by Ian Forsyth. March – June Roots in the Recital Room @ The Saltburn School RICHARD GRAINGER. Since Richard took to the road in the 1970′s he has impressed audiences the world over. A unique songwriter and prolific recording artist. Sat 1st June 1pm until 4pm All or Nothing presents. BRASS NECK COMEDY CLUB presents Jarred Christmas, Paul Thorne with MC Matt Reed Brimming with passion, you’ll be gasping at Jarred’s incredible rants against the smallest things in life. "Fabulously boisterous.” – Evening Standard. Sat 1st Doors and Bar 7pm Curtain Up 8pm Saltburn Jazz presents THE YORKSHIRE STOMPERS. “One of Yorkshire’s most popular bands for several years, The Stompers play a wide-ranging, exciting repertoire of classic jazz, popular songs, spirituals and ballads with good humour and enthusiasm.” Fri 7th June Doors & bar open at 6:30pm starts 7:30pm Saltburn Film Club presents. QUARTET At a home for retired musicians, the annual concert to celebrate Verdi’s birthday is disrupted by the arrival of Jean, an eternal diva and the former wife of one of the residents… read more Runtime 127min. Thurs 6th June Afternoon showing: Doors 1.30pm Screening 2pm. Evening showing: Doors 6.30pm Screening 7pm

Saltburn Film Club presents. LES MISERABLES. In 19th -century France, Jean Valjean, who for decades has been hunted by the ruthless policeman, Javert after he breaks parole, agrees to care for factory worker Fantine’s daughter, Cosette. The fateful decision changes their lives forever. Starring Hugh Jackman and Russell Crowe. Thurs 20th June Doors 1.30pm Screening 2pm Thurs 20th June Doors 6.30pm Screening 7pm GORDIE MACKEEMAN & HIS RHYTHM BOYS Blisterin’ bluegrass, ole-time fiddlin’ and some jawdropping dancing plus Mike mcGrother & Friends (Wildcats of Kilkenny) Sat 22nd June Doors & Bar 7.30pm performance 8pm Saltburn Film Club presents. HITCHCOCK. A love story between influential filmaker Alfred Hitchcock and wife Alma Reville during the filming of Psyco in 1959. Starring Anthony Hopkins and Helen Mirren. Thurs 27th June Doors 6.30pm Screening 7pm Switchback productions with Saltburn Arts presents. THE EASTERLY. The Easterly is a vivid explosion of stories and songs, told on a walk from Saltburn Arts Theatre to the edge of the sea. Made with storytellers and a community choir, it celebrates the spirit of the North East coast, and holds out a hand to anyone who’s wished for something as they looked at the sea. The show is suitable for all ages, and the Arts Theatre and walking route are wheelchair accessible. Sun 30th June starting at 6.30pm

Welcome Sweeping beaches, cliffs, big skies, surf, seabirds, Saltburn has them all and is our favourite place to be. This month sees the publication of our second magazine, one which we hope will become a regular monthly feature bringing you news, events and features which encapsulate, accentuate and celebrate Saltburn by the Sea as part of the great British seaside – its landscape, its history, its attractions and its community. I feel an almost gravitational pull towards the coast. I love everything about the sea – the pure smell of salt-air, the mirror-calm of a dawn sea, the promise of an empty horizon. My favourite place to write, where I have my clearest thoughts, has always been by the sea. Growing up in a coastal mining village I spent much of my childhood visiting the sea - seemingly endless days playing on the cliffs, day trips to the nearest seaside resort, annual outings to Redcar and the very occasional visits to Whitby and Scarborough. I used to go on long walks along the beach, epic adventures walking barefoot on the sand, trousers rolled up, waves crashing at my feet, scanning the tideline for flotsam and jetsam. My favourite find was always laudanum blue sea glass. Turning the smooth, sea washed pieces over and over in my hand, wind blowing through my hair, putting the world to rights in my head. It's a long way from those early days when a visit to the sea meant the practice of sea bathing 'with a view to cleanliness, to the increasing the body's heat, for the preservation of health'. The discovery of 'spaw' water saw Scarborough established as a flourishing Spa town and eventually built on its reputation to develop as the first seaside resort - the Queen of sea-bathing places' - combining the advantages of mineral springs with those of a convenient and luxurious sea bathing shore. Scarborough is also a contender, along with Margate, as the first resort to use bathing machines and this month we take a look at these curious reminders of times past. Sea Breezes welcomes contributions from readers. If you have a photo, story, poem, event or article of news that you would like to share please e-mail it to: and include Sea Breezes in the subject box. Text submitted to the site may be sub-edited for the sake of clarity or readability. Images submitted to the site may be cropped or digitally enhanced (for example, to improve contrast). The editor is under no obligation to publish any text or photos submitted to Sea Breezes and may reject material on the grounds of copyright infringement, offensiveness or other legal considerations. The copyright of all photographs featured within this magazine remains with the magazine or any photographers credited. No part of this magazine may be reproduced in any way without prior written consent. Sea Breezes is produced by, an independent website which is not affiliated with, or officially sponsored by any Local Authority or Tourist Information Centre based in or near Saltburn by the Sea. tries to ensure that the articles and announcements made on the Sea Breezes pages are accurate, but views expressed in articles are not necessarily those of the webmaster. Any offers in adverts are made by the advertiser and details should be confirmed with them. Always confirm event details with the organisers, in case of alteration or errors. © 2006-2013 All rights reserved worldwide | Created by seasalt |

The Saltburn and Cleveland Advertiser

Between the 1870’s and the 1930’s The Saltburn and Cleveland Advertiser was a free monthly publication which prided itself on being the 'Largest, Best, and Cheapest Advertising Medium in Cleveland'. It was published by The Ivanhoe Press, proprietor Joseph Parks, from its office on Windsor Road and circulated 5,000 copies gratis each month, distributed in Saltburn, Marske, New Marske, Guisborough, Brotton and the Skeltons. The following article is the second of a number of articles which were published in monthly episodes throughout 1930.

A BRIEF HISTORY OF SALTBURN BY IVANHOE CHAPTER II It was reported in the Leeds Inteliilgencer of October 4th 1802, that the 'Eagle' revenue cutter, under Captain Whitehead, had brought into Newcastle-upon-Tyne , a large New York smuggling lugger called 'The Resolution' which she fell in with off Huntcliffe Foot, near Saltburn, capturing the same after a six hour chase. The customs officials found her to have on board about 750 half-ankers of Geneva and eleven bales of tobacco. One interesting little story that used to be told by one old 'grey-beard' as he sat warming his shattered and warm frame before the roaring sea-coal fire in the interior of the 'Ship Inn' is well worth relating here. One evening a man set out for an adjoining village carrying a couple of kegs of rum slung over his shoulders by a short rope. Next morning he was found a corpse. In attempting to pass a style, the cord slipped round his neck, and by the weight of the barrels he was strangled. The nature of the coast was such as rendered these transactions as comparatively easy. Here and there are perpendicular cliffs which rise like gigantic rampart walls, and indented with small creeks, which afforded excellent landing places, whilst the numerous gorge-like valleys, running inland, offered admirable facilities for hiding the landed goods. On the summit of the lofty heights was stationed the keen look-out, to give notice of any approaching danger. Indeed, to such an extent was the traffic carried on in these parts, that

great difficulty was at times experienced in finding safe hiding places for the large quantities of goods that were landed, and a few miles from the place of which I am writing there was an old church, in the belfry of which, on one occasion, a large number of kegs of spirit were discovered snugly stowed away. Smugglers loggers used to lie onshore at Old Saltburn, two and three at a time, overtly discharging their cargoes at mid-day. The easy roads to Skelton and Brotton up the glen behind the houses made the place well adapted for carrying on a trade in contraband goods, by which many, otherwise respectable outside families, profited. On the beach at the foot of the conical hill called Cat-Nab, there formerly stood a row of cottages which were demolished in 1850, and it was found that in each house was a large underground cellar for hiding away smuggled booty. In 1882, or thereabouts, some halfdozen condemned fishermen's cottages were demolished and certain similar unexpected vaults were found - very useful places for concealing commodities on which the usual Customs dues had not been paid. At the same time a great stow hole in the rock at one end of a long passage behind the 'Ship Inn' was walled up. And a similar cavity does or did exist under this house's foundations. Antiquaries are perhaps near the mark when they point to these recesses as being part of Robert de Argentum's hermitage founded over seven hundred years ago. The 'Ship Inn' was once kept by the notorious smuggler 'Lord' John Andrews. Andrews emigrated to Saltburn from Arbroath, in Montrose, Scotland, and many of his descendants are still living in the district. Andrews was a smart young fellow who knew

all the ins-and-outs of the smuggling trade, kept the secrets to himself and made a pile of money. Although some desperate conflicts took place between smugglers and the cutlass-armed preventive men, coast dwellers in general were a long time in accepting the naked truth that it was morally wrong to evade payment of Customs in places not constituted ports, and even constables and parish clarks said 'Mum's the word' while enriching themselves by these means. ( TO BE CONTINUED)

A bigger splash... Crash on crash, swift to leap, to kiss, to curl, to creep in untamed clamour, a furious foam on foam of drowning loneliness.

Saltburn by the Sea


Sp!ng 2010

About 4,000 visitors attended the weekend opening of a brand new arts venture in Saltburn. A large gallery devoted to the work of artists from across Yorkshire and the North East. ArtsBank, based in a striking Victorian building which was formerly a bank, is centrally located on the corner of Milton Street and Diamond Street in the seaside town of Saltburnby-the-Sea.

29 Milton Street: a brief history The 1871 census for Saltburn by the Sea shows Mr Francis Cunningham, aged 38, ironmonger, from Beelsby, Lincolnshire, living on Milton Street with his wife Margaret and four children. The youngest child, Lucy, aged three, was born in Saltburn so it is likely that the business was established around 1867. Mr Cunningham's shop (pictured circa 1875, with Mr Cunningham seen to the left of the image leaning against the iron railings) stood originally where ArtsBank now stands. THE ORIGINS OF BANKING IN SALTBURN The origins of banking in Saltburn can be traced back to 1875 when the York City County Bank sent an agent to the town once a week. The Saltburn branch of the bank was opened in February 1876. Mr William Edward Cass was the first manager, having been transferred from the bank's Boroughbridge office on a salary of ÂŁ150 a year. The original premises of the Saltburn branch are not recorded in the HSBC archives. One source states that it is believed that the branch was located somewhere further along Milton Street. Another source states that the bank was located at 13 Dundas St East which is now the premises occupied by Smith's the butchers.

29 Milton Street, the premises of Mr Francis Cunningham circa 1875 Mr Cass spent five and a half years at the Saltburn branch before moving to Malton. He was succeeded as manager by Mr Robert Holland.

The York City County Bank purchased the premises of 29 Milton Street in 1888. In 1909 the York City County Bank, along with all its branches, was acquired by the London Joint Stock Bank which in turn was acquired by the Midland Bank in 1918. The HSBC took over the Midland Bank in 1992 and changed the name in 1999. The Saltburn branch of the HSBC was closed on February 8th 2008. The building was acquired for the ArtsBank project in November 2009 and opened April 2010

Saltburn by the Sea's First Bank circa 1880 believed to be 13 Dundas St East at the premises now occupied by Smith's the butchers.

One thing that often confuses us today is that the definition of sea bathing has changed. When we go to the seaside there is movement and swimming and games in the water. However, from the 18th century to the mid 19th century sea bathing was a more serious business concerned with the beneficial health effects of sea water. Sea water cures consisted of drinking quantities of sea water each day and sea bathing was a brief plunge into the ocean from one to three times in the morning. This was assisted by servants called dippers (men for male bathers and women for female bathers) who plunged the bather’s head underwater for the requisite one to three dips and also served to keep them from harm from the waves. Another thing not clearly understand is how bathing machines evolved in their use. The bathing machine was invented at a time when both men and women bathed in the sea in the nude. It was considered inappropriate for the upper and middle classes to swim in the waves together, thus bathing machines became popular as they served a real function in modesty protection. Naked bathing continued until the late 1800’s when a law was passed stating that male and female bathers were to be segregated by not less than 60 feet, and that all owners of bathing machines would provide gowns or dresses to female bathers and drawers or similar to male bathers. After swimming, bathers would re-enter the bathing machine, dry off, and change back into their street clothing. The bathing machine would be wheeled back to the beach and the bather would emerge fully dressed. The hiring charge for a bathing machine in 1770 varied from 9d for two or more gentlemen bathing themselves to 1/6d for a gentleman taking a machine with a guide. By the beginning of the 20th century, bathing machines had progressed little technologically. In 1906 a Manchester Guardian reporter complained of the total darkness in which one was forced to change and could not understand why skylights had not been fitted. However some bathing machines did have small windows and there is at least one shown with skylights. For the most part, the design changed little in 150 years. Many remained nothing more than damp, dingy wooden boxes. Only those belonging to the rich were to be admired.

There has always been some controversy about the origin of bathing machines. Some historians attribute the invention of the bathing machine to Benjamin Beale, a Quaker and a glove and breeches maker who lived in Margate in the 18th century. On the other hand a 1736 engraving by John Setterington showing bathing machines in use at Scarborough seems to suggest otherwise. Beale’s actual contribution in 1750 was the invention of an awning attached to the rear of the bathing machine. The cloth hood became popularly known as a modesty hood. It could be lowered in front of the machine down to the water and provide a private bathing area for the modest swimmer. There were variations to the hood, such as a canvas awning called a lift, which could be extended over the back of the cart like a tent and completely hide the bather from view. An additional benefit of the hood was that it also protected delicate skin from the sun. Bathing machines had become ubiquitous in Britain during the 19th century and can be seen in photographs and engravings in massed ranks on beaches all round the coast: from Aberystwyth in Wales, which had 73 by the 1880s, to Aberdeen in Scotland, and from the more working class seaside resorts of Blackpool and Bridlington in the north of England, to the more fashionable Brighton and Bognor on the south coast. Each town could have several owners competing with each other to hire out their machines by the day, week or month, some being cheap and rudimentary, others more sophisticated and expensive. It was - like all seaside occupations - a precarious and seasonal one, with the possibility of the destruction of the business overnight in an unexpected storm. Legal segregation of bathing areas in Britain ended in 1901, and the use of the bathing machine declined rapidly. By the start of the 1920s bathing machines were almost extinct, even on beaches catering to an older clientele.

How they worked:

Gentry at the seaside, Scarborough in 1776. In the Public Library there is a view of the town as it was in 1735 by John Setterington, which shows people bathing and is the first recorded evidence of the use of bathing machines.

The skills required to construct a bathing machine were, presumably, similar to those used for farm carts and coaches, though they almost certainly lacked the comfort of the latter. Built of wood or wooden-framed with canvas walls, they were not of a standard size, but one was described as being 3m long, 1.8m wide and 2m high. Four cartwheels enabled their movement and meant they stood 1.2m off the ground, allowing them to be pulled into the sea. The more primitive had only one door, in which case the machine had to be turned round when it reached the sea, but normally there were two. The bathers entered from the back where they were confronted with little more than a row of hooks for their clothes. In the more luxurious ones, the floor might be carpeted but would undoubtedly be damp from the seawater that had entered through the floor. After they had changed, the bathers would endure a bumpy ride, while the machine was pulled down the beach by horse or man power into the water. Once in position, the bather emerged from the door at the front and descended some steps into the sea. There, at least in the 18th century, they might be attended by a 'dipper' who would thrust them through the waves and submerge them in the water.

In this picture, published in 1775 in The Margate Guide, we can see a simple bathing-room in which the bathers wait, a machine approaching the bathing room, and a machine actually being used for bathing. This is all explained very helpfully in an Appendix at the back of the Guide: ‘Explanation of the structure of the machine. A The Bathing-room, to the steps of which the machine B is driving, with its umbrella drawn up. C A back view of the machine, shewing its steps, and the folding doors which open into a bath of eight feet by thirteen feet, formed by the fall of the umbrella. D The machine, as used in bathing, with its umbrella down. Although Scarborough is credited as being the first seaside resort at which bathing machines were seen it did not take long before they became a mandatory feature of every coastal village that aspired to cater to the gentry. One of the best descriptions of a bathing machine is given by Tobias Smollett in 'The Expedition of Humphrey Clinker.' Image to yourself a small, snug, wooden chamber, fixed upon a wheel-carriage, having a door at each end, and on each side a little window above, a bench below – The bather, ascending into this apartment by wooden steps, shuts himself in, and begins to undress, while the attendant yokes a horse to the end next the sea, and draws the carriage forwards, till the surface of the water is on a level with the floor of the dressing-room, then he moves and fixes the horse to the other end – The person within being stripped, opens the door to the sea-ward, where he finds the guide ready, and plunges headlong into the water – After having bathed, he re-ascends into the apartment, by the steps which had been shifted for that purpose, and puts on his clothes at his leisure, while the carriage is drawn back again upon the dry land; so that he has nothing further to do, but to open the door, and come down as he went up – Should he be so weak or ill as to require a servant to put off and on his clothes, there is room enough in the apartment for half a dozen people. He then goes on to describe the arrangements for ladies: The guides who attend the ladies in the water, are of their own sex, and they and the female bathers have a dress of flannel for the sea; nay, they are provided with other conveniences for the support of decorum. A certain number of the machines are fitted with tilts, that project from the sea-ward ends of them, so as to screen the bathers from the view of all persons whatsoever – The beach is admirably adapted for this practice, the descent being gently gradual, and the sand soft as velvet; but then the machines can be used only at a certain time of the tide, which varies every day; so that sometimes the bathers are obliged to rise very early in the morning — The Expedition of Humphrey Clinker, p.213

The ‘tilts’ are the modesty hoods invented by Benjamin Beale of Margate in the 1750s. They were like large canvas awnings attached to the back of the bathing machine. The hood would be let down and the bather could enter and exit the water in total privacy. If desired, they could also be dipped under the shelter of the hood and out of sight of prying eyes.

"The First Dip", a print produced by William Henry Mason of 81 King's Road, Brighton, showing the famous bathing woman Martha Gunn "dipping" an infant at Brighton, with the Chain Pier in the background.

Dippers or guides were an essential accompaniment to the bathing machines. They were mainly local women and some men who escorted their customers into the water and dipped them. As the bather emerged from the machine the dipper ensured they were immersed deeply enough and then dipped them into the oncoming waves or, if the sea was calm, pushed their heads under water. For medically prescribed bathing the standard dip was apparently three total immersions.

Martha Gunn, the most famous of all the seaside 'dippers' was born in the seaside village of Brighthelmstone (Brighton) in 1726. Martha came from an old fishing family, but when sea-bathing became popular in the 1740s, she found employment as a "dipper" on Brighton's seafront. Martha probably started work as a ladies' bathing attendant when she was a young woman in her twenties, yet she did not completely retire until 1814, when she was in her late eighties. Her long career as a "dipper" and her special relationship with George Augustus Frederick, the Prince of Wales (1762-1830) ensured that she became a local celebrity and the most famous "dipper" in Great Britain.

Martha Gunn became so famous that potters began to produce Toby Jugs in the form of 'Martha Gunn, the famous bathing woman of Brighton'.

Martha Gunn died in Brighton on 2nd May 1815, aged 88.

Bathing machines in use at Saltburn.

Join us on our reading project. Month by month we will present part of a short story from R Austin Freeman's 'Dr John Thorndyke's Cases', a collection of short stories of detective fiction first published in 1909. Richard Austin Freeman (11 April 1862 London – 28 September 1943 Gravesend) — known as R. Austin Freeman — was a British writer of detective stories, mostly featuring the medico-legal forensic investigator Dr. Thorndyke. He claimed to have invented the inverted detective story (a crime fiction in which the commission of the crime is described at the beginning, usually including the identity of the perpetrator, with the story then describing the detective's attempt to solve the mystery). Freeman used some of his early experiences as a colonial surgeon in his novels. A large proportion of the Dr. Thorndyke stories involve genuine, but often quite arcane, points of scientific knowledge, from areas such as tropical medicine, metallurgy and toxicology. JOHN THORNDYKE'S CASES (1909) (a.k.a. Dr. Thorndyke's Cases) ORIGINAL PREFACE TO 'JOHN THORNDYKE'S CASES' THE MAN WITH THE NAILED SHOES - Part 3 in this (June 2013) issue.. JTHE STRANGER'S LATCHKEY THE ANTHROPOLOGIST AT LARGE THE BLUE SEQUIN THE MOABITE CIPHER THE MANDARIN'S PEARL THE ALUMINIUM DAGGER A MESSAGE FROM THE DEEP SEA Preface...

The stories in this collection, inasmuch as they constitute a somewhat new departure in this class of literature, require a few words of introduction. The primary function of all fiction is to furnish entertainment to the reader, and this fact has not been lost sight of. But the interest of so-called 'detective' fiction is, I believe, greatly enhanced by a careful adherence to the probable, and a strict avoidance of physical impossibilities; and, in accordance with this belief, I have been scrupulous in confining myself to authentic facts and practicable methods. The stories have, for the most part, a medico-legal motive, and the methods of solution described in them are similar to those employed in actual practice by medical jurists. The stories illustrate, in fact, the application to the detection of crime of the ordinary methods of scientific research. I may add that the experiments described have in all cases been performed by me, and that the micro-photographs are, of course, from the actual specimens. R. A. F. Gravesend, September 21, 1909.

"The sergeant is off to get a warrant, I suppose," I observed.

"Yes; and mighty anxious lest his man should be off before he can execute it. But he is fishing in deeper waters than he thinks, Jervis. This is a very singular and complicated case; one of the strangest, in fact, that I have ever met. I shall follow its development with deep interest."

"The sergeant seems pretty cocksure, all the same," I said.

"He is not to blame for that," replied Thorndyke. "He is acting on the obvious appearances, which is the proper thing to do in the first place. Perhaps his notebook contains more than I think it does. But we shall see."

When we entered the village I stopped to settle some business with the chemist, who acted as Dr. Cooper's dispenser, suggesting to Thorndyke that he should walk on to the house; but when I emerged from the shop some ten minutes later he was waiting outside, with a smallish brown-paper parcel under each arm. Of one of these parcels I insisted on relieving him, in spite of his protests, but when he at length handed it to me its weight completely took me by surprise.

"I should have let them send this home on a barrow," I remarked.

"So I should have done," he replied, "only I did not wish to draw attention to my purchase, or give my address."

Accepting this hint I refrained from making any inquiries as to the nature of the contents (although I must confess to considerable curiosity on the subject), and on arriving home I assisted him to deposit the two mysterious parcels in his room.

When I came downstairs a disagreeable surprise awaited me. Hitherto the long evenings had been spent by me in solitary and undisturbed enjoyment of Dr. Cooper's excellent library, but to-night a perverse fate decreed that I must wander abroad, because, forsooth, a preposterous farmer, who resided in a hamlet five miles distant, had chosen the evening of my guest's arrival to dislocate his bucolic elbow. I half hoped that Thorndyke would offer to accompany me, but he made no such suggestion, and in fact seemed by no means afflicted at the prospect of my absence.

"I have plenty to occupy me while you are away," he said cheerfully; and with this assurance to comfort me I mounted my bicycle and rode off somewhat sulkily along the dark road.

My visit occupied in all a trifle under two hours, and when I reached home, ravenously hungry and heated by my ride, half-past nine had struck, and the village had begun to settle down for the night.

"Sergeant Payne is a-waiting in the surgery, sir," the housemaid announced as I entered the hall.

"Confound Sergeant Payne!" I exclaimed. "Is Dr. Thorndyke with him?" "No, sir," replied the grinning damsel. "Dr. Thorndyke is hout." "Hout!" I repeated (my surprise leading to unintentional mimicry).

"Yes, sir. He went hout soon after you, sir, on his bicycle. He had a basket strapped on to it--leastways a hamper--and he borrowed a basin and a kitchen-spoon from the cook."

I stared at the girl in astonishment. The ways of John Thorndyke were, indeed, beyond all understanding.

"Well, let me have some dinner or supper at once," I said, "and I will see what the sergeant wants."

The officer rose as I entered the surgery, and, laying his helmet on the table, approached me with an air of secrecy and importance.

"Well, sir," said he, "the fat's in the fire. I've arrested Mr. Draper, and I've got him locked up in the court-house. But I wish it had been someone else."

"So does he, I expect," I remarked.

"You see, sir," continued the sergeant, "we all like Mr. Draper. He's been among us a matter of seven years, and he's like one of ourselves. However, what I've come about is this; it seems the gentleman who was with you this evening is Dr. Thorndyke, the great expert. Now Mr. Draper seems to have heard about him, as most of us have, and he is very anxious for him to take up the defence. Do you think he would consent?"

"I expect so," I answered, remembering Thorndyke's keen interest in the case; "but I will ask him when he comes in."

"Thank you, sir," said the sergeant. "And perhaps you wouldn't mind stepping round to the court-house presently yourself. He looks uncommon queer, does Mr. Draper, and no wonder, so I'd like you to take a look at him, and if you could bring Dr. Thorndyke with you, he'd like it, and so should I, for, I assure you, sir, that although a conviction would mean a step up the ladder for me, I'd be glad enough to find that I'd made a mistake."

I was just showing my visitor out when a bicycle swept in through the open gate, and Thorndyke dismounted at the door, revealing a square hamper--evidently abstracted from the surgery--strapped on to a carrier at the back. I conveyed the sergeant's request to him at once, and asked if he was willing to take up the case.

"As to taking up the defence," he replied, "I will consider the matter; but in any case I will come up and see the prisoner."

With this the sergeant departed, and Thorndyke, having unstrapped the hamper with as much care as if it contained a collection of priceless porcelain, bore it tenderly up to his bedroom; whence he appeared, after a considerable interval, smilingly apologetic for the delay.

"I thought you were dressing for dinner," I grumbled as he took his seat at the table.

"No," he replied. "I have been considering this murder. Really it is a most singular case, and promises to be uncommonly complicated, too."

"Then I assume that you will undertake the defence?" "I shall if Draper gives a reasonably straightforward account of himself."

It appeared that this condition was likely to be fulfilled, for when we arrived at the courthouse (where the prisoner was accommodated in a spare office, under rather free-andeasy conditions considering the nature of the charge) we found Mr. Draper in an eminently communicative frame of mind.

"I want you, Dr. Thorndyke, to undertake my defence in this terrible affair, because I feel confident that you will be able to clear me. And I promise you that there shall be no reservation or concealment on my part of anything that you ought to know."

"Very well," said Thorndyke. "By the way, I see you have changed your shoes."

"Yes, the sergeant took possession of those I was wearing. He said something about comparing them with some footprints, but there can't be any footprints like those shoes here in Sundersley. The nails are fixed in the soles in quite a peculiar pattern. I had them made in Edinburgh."

"Have you more than one pair?" "No. I have no other nailed boots."

"That is important," said Thorndyke. "And now I judge that you have something to tell us that bears on this crime. Am I right?"

"Yes. There is something that I am afraid it is necessary for you to know, although it is very painful to me to revive memories of my past that I had hoped were buried for ever. But perhaps, after all, it may not be necessary for these confidences to be revealed to anyone but yourself."

"I hope not," said Thorndyke; "and if it is not necessary you may rely upon me not to allow any of your secrets to leak out. But you are wise to tell me everything that may in any way bear upon the case."

At this juncture, seeing that confidential matters were about to be discussed, I rose and prepared to withdraw; but Draper waved me back into my chair.

"You need not go away, Dr. Jervis," he said. "It is through you that I have the benefit of Dr. Thorndyke's help, and I know that you doctors can be trusted to keep your own counsel and your clients' secrets. And now for some confessions of mine. In the first place, it is my painful duty to tell you that I am a discharged convict--an 'old lag,' as the cant phrase has it."

He coloured a dusky red as he made this statement, and glanced furtively at Thorndyke to observe its effect. But he might as well have looked at a wooden figure-head or a stone mask as at my friend's immovable visage; and when his communication had been acknowledged by a slight nod, he proceeded:

"The history of my wrong-doing is the history of hundreds of others. I was a clerk in a bank, and getting on as well as I could expect in that not very progressive avocation, when I had the misfortune to make four very undesirable acquaintances. They were all young men, though rather older than myself, and were close friends, forming a sort of little community or club. They were not what is usually described as 'fast.' They were quite sober and decently-behaved young follows, but they were very decidedly addicted to gambling in a small way, and they soon infected me. Before long I was the keenest gambler of them all. Cards, billiards, pool, and various forms of betting began to be the chief pleasures of my life, and not only was the bulk of my scanty salary often consumed in the inevitable losses, but presently I found myself considerably in debt, without any visible means of discharging my liabilities. It is true that my four friends were my chief--in fact, almost my only--creditors, but still, the debts existed, and had to be paid.

"Now these four friends of mine--named respectively Leach, Pitford, Hearn, and Jezzard--were uncommonly clever men, though the full extent of their cleverness was not appreciated by me until too late. And I, too, was clever in my way, and a most undesirable way it was, for I possessed the fatal gift of imitating handwriting and signatures with the most remarkable accuracy. So perfect were my copies that the writers themselves were frequently unable to distinguish their own signatures from my imitations, and many a time was my skill invoked by some of my companions to play off practical jokes upon the others. But these jests were strictly confined to our own little set, for my four friends were most careful and anxious that my dangerous accomplishment should not become known to outsiders.

"And now follows the consequence which you have no doubt foreseen. My debts, though small, were accumulating, and I saw no prospect of being able to pay them.

Then, one night, Jezzard made a proposition. We had been playing bridge at his rooms, and once more my ill luck had caused me to increase my debt. I scribbled out an IOU, and pushed it across the table to Jezzard, who picked it up with a very wry face, and pocketed it.

"'Look here, Ted,' he said presently, 'this paper is all very well, but, you know, I can't pay my debts with it. My creditors demand hard cash.'

"'I'm very sorry,' I replied, 'but I can't help it.'

"'Yes, you can,' said he, 'and I'll tell you how.' He then propounded a scheme which I at first rejected with indignation, but which, when the others backed him up, I at last allowed myself to be talked into, and actually put into execution. I contrived, by taking advantage of the carelessness of some of my superiors at the bank, to get possession of some blank cheque forms, which I filled up with small amounts--not more than two or three pounds--and signed with careful imitations of the signatures of some of our clients. Jezzard got some stamps made for stamping on the account numbers, and when this had been done I handed over to him the whole collection of forged cheques in settlement of my debts to all of my four companions.

"The cheques were duly presented--by whom I do not know; and although, to my dismay, the modest sums for which I had drawn them had been skilfully altered into quite considerable amounts, they were all paid without demur excepting one. That one, which had been altered from three pounds to thirty-nine, was drawn upon an account which was already slightly overdrawn. The cashier became suspicious; the cheque was impounded, and the client communicated with. Then, of course, the mine exploded. Not only was this particular forgery detected, but inquiries were set afoot which soon brought to light the others. Presently circumstances, which I need not describe, threw some suspicion on me. I at once lost my nerve, and finally made a full confession.

"The inevitable prosecution followed. It was not conducted vindictively. Still, I had actually committed the forgeries, and though I endeavoured to cast a part of the blame on to the shoulders of my treacherous confederates, I did not succeed. Jezzard, it is true, was arrested, but was discharged for lack of evidence, and, consequently, the whole burden of the forgery fell upon me. The jury, of course, convicted me, and I was sentenced to seven years' penal servitude.

"During the time that I was in prison an uncle of mine died in Canada, and by the provisions of his will I inherited the whole of his very considerable property, so that when the time arrived for my release, I came out of prison, not only free, but comparatively rich. I at once dropped my own name, and, assuming that of Alfred Draper, began to look about for some quiet spot in which I might spend the rest of my days in peace, and with little chance of my identity being discovered. Such a place I found in Sundersley, and here I have lived for the last seven years, liked and respected, I think, by my neighbours, who have little suspected that they were harbouring in their midst a convicted felon. to be continued...

WHITBY GINGERBREAD The gingerbread made from recipes originally used in the 14th & 15th centuries isn't anything at all like our modern cake-like variety. It was in fact more like a candy or a confection; however, it was very good and quite a treat, and I can recommend it to anyone with a bit of a sweet tooth. This type of gingerbread was among the many sweets brought to Chaucer's Sir Thopas in The Canterbury Tales. Curye on Inglish, a collection of period cookbooks including Forme of Cury, gives this definition: "Gyngebred; not to be confused with the cake-like variety, made from breadcrumbs boiled in honey with spices: not the modern cake but more like it than the confection." It is interesting to note that these early recipes did not include ginger. Medieval recipes call for the gingerbread to be cut into small squares and decorated with box leaves fastened to each piece with a clove. Gyngerbrede: 2 cups honey, 1 tsp. cinnamon, 1/2 tsp. white pepper, pinch saffron, 18 cups bread crumbs (about 2 loaves) cinnamon and red sandalwood to coat. (Add 1/4 tsp ginger if required.) Bring the honey to a boil, reduce heat, and allow to simmer for 5 or 10 minutes, skimming off any scum that forms on the surface. Remove from heat and add saffron, pepper, cinnamon, and bread crumbs (adding bread crumbs a cup at a time). Mix well and scoop out into half inch sized portions. Form into small balls, flatten with a stamp or mould and coat with a mix of 2 parts sandalwood to 1 part cinnamon.

Ingredients: See ingredients at the beginning of this article.

Botham's of Whitby state the following on their website: "Original Whitby Gingerbread is a block gingerbread peculiar to the town and has been made here for many hundreds of years. It is quite unlike any other Gingerbread available as it is baked to a firm loaf with a texture between a bread and a biscuit. It is not a cake or a biscuit as many people would imagine. It is delicious sliced thinly, buttered and eaten with a farmhouse cheese, such as Wensleydale or Coverdale and is also delightful with preserve. Without doubt, a perfect speciality to be eaten on a crisp winter's day in front of a glowing fire." The Whitby gingerbread loaf has a dry texture, is mid-brown in colour and mildly spiced with ginger. Drier than other cake-type gingerbreads, it is thought that the composition was used to ensure long-keeping for sea voyages. Here is recipe to make your own Whitby gingerbread. First gently heat the butter, sugar, syrup and treacle in a pan until the sugar is dissolved and the butter is melted. In a large bowl sieve the flour, baking powder, bicarb, ginger and cinnamon. Make a well in the centre of the dry ingredients and pour in the melted butter and sugars, then mix. Take a jug of buttermilk and add an egg. After beating add this to your mixture. Pour into a small, lined loaf tin and bake in the centre of your oven for one hour at 160째 (Gas mark 3).

A brief glimpse of the past... Scarborough The history of Scarborough dates back to the Bronze Age and around 370/400AD a Roman Signal Station was built at Scarborough Headland although this was soon abandoned. The name of Scarborough can, allegedly (there is no supporting archaeological evidence), be traced back to 966AD when Thorgil, nicknamed Skarthi (meaning Hare-Lip), and his Vikings decided to settle in the place they called Skarthi’s Burgh, or Skarthi’s Stronghold. King Henry II built an Angevin stone castle on the headland, and granted the town charters in 1155 and 1163, permitting a market on the sands. A Royal charter, granted in 1253, gave permission to hold Scarborough Fair, a six week trading festival attracting merchants from all over Europe. In 1626 Spaw water was discovered flowing into the sea by Mrs Elizabeth Farrow and Scarborough Spa became established as the first seaside health resort bringing a vast influx of visitors. Bathing machines were noted on the sands in 1735. The coming of the railway in 1845 increased the tide of visitors and to this day Scarborough railway station holds the record for the longest seat in any railway station in the world.

Our Bathing Machines  

First published in The Pall Mall Gazette, May 13th 1885 by A Lady Bather The bathing machine? Precisely so. It is time that this standing reproach to the Darwinian theory - this "survival of the unfittest" - should cease. As I look at that shabby white or green row of ramshackle, springless cupboards on wheels that are still the chronic eyesores of the Brighton beach, I say, "Those horrors of my earliest childhood are unchanged." I asked my grandmother - she recollected them from seventy years back; she went so far as to say she thought they were the same ones she had been thrust into as a young girl when the Prince Regent came down to superintend the Chinese Pavillion, and the French cannon were hoisted on to the Grand Parade. "Then," said I, "there, at least, evolution has stopped." Everything has since moved on - carriages with springs, cars and ships with steam, letters with penny stamps, and messages by e l e c t r i c i t y, a n d m e n o n bicycles, but bathing machines, in spite of their prodigious wheels, are nowhere in this race of progress, nowhere. Alas, they are still on the shore by the sad sea waves, just where they were when Fielding wrote of Mrs Slipslop, as broad as she was long, and Gillray depicted those frowsy and

portentous females, belated remnants of another world, who now survive only on the British coast, the blue-gowned hags of the Brighton bathing machines "for ladies." We are certainly the creatures of habit, and habit (not reason) reconciles refined and otherwise fastidiously inclined ladies to the bathing machine of the period. It stands absolutely alone for the barbarous ugliness and antique discomfort. No cab, omnibus, or even dung cart, is built or allowed to cumber the earth in such fashion. The wheels are only held together with bits of rusty iron, the doors never fit, the sides, seldom repainted, are shabby, rotten, cracked, and patched with odd boards, often of very different colours. The wheezy thing lets in the draught at a thousand chinks, and a tiny window - I measured it - just two inches and a half square is all the light a lady has to dress and undress by. Suppose you get up the rickety steps without breaking your shins, you find yourself on a slippery inclined plane, messy and soaking from alien feet; a sudden tug hurls you onto a sort of soaking knifeboard-your only seat-and you hold on there, unless jolted off, till a wave splashing under the door and drenching your stockings, sets your boots swimming, and warns you to prepare quickly for the delights of the bath. I need not dwell in detail upon the horrors - even indelicacies - to which health, high spirits, youth and habit seem to have inured our Englisg girls, and at which foreign ladies stare aghast. The dark, reeking, stifling cupboard, made of bare, rough boards, with scarce room for a body to turn or stand in, and no room for a body's clothes; the bathing gown - still proffered, and in default of a private one, accepted - out of which someone else has crawled five minutes before; the shivering descent down the rickety ladder; the dreadful, weather-

beaten frump, in a coarse, baize sack, with horny hands and rheumy eyes, who proposes to dip, and still is allowed to dip, the dainty creatures who anywhere else and in any other costume would shrink from her touch - this, and much more which Punch has frequently dwelt upon, but, like Aristophanes, ridiculed without a hope of reforming, it would be simple waste of time to describe again. I simply should be glad to know how long this sort of thing is to be tolerated. In every watering place along the coast the only thing absolutely out of keeping with all our "modern improvements" is the unspeakable bathing machine. Railway carriages, yachts, bath chairs, cabs, trains, the standard of comforts in lodging houses and hotels, and especially the standard of all bathing establishments wherever the open sea is not concerned - has immensely risen. Nowhere abroad do I find such a hugger-mugger arrange ment, such contempt of comfort and propriety and cleanliness and grace as on my native shores. I ask, How long is this thing to be? And I fear I shall have to pause for a reply. But no one should grumble without suggesting a remedy; so now for the reform. What do I suggest? How, for instance, would I set up Brighton with a model sea-bathing combining grace with comfort and decency? I am coming to Brighton presently; but there are all sorts of coasts, shingly, sandy, rocky, shallow or deep, and different bayhing styles must be found suitable for each. One thing is certain: in no single se is the regulation bathing machine suitable. If people must bathe at low water from sandy reaches let them be carried out in something less detestable than these closed, springless, windowless, damp and draughty wooden carts. If bathers dressed properly, as they do at Biarritz or Boulogne, the bathing tent system, in the

absence of any more solid building, might be generally adopted, but at large towns like Brighton the bathing arrangements should be a matter for the town council and the ratepayers. For swimmers there should be floating hulks fitted with dressing-rooms opening onto rafts suitably moored a little off the shore, with a regular boat service to and fro; but this again would be needless if we had half the intelligence of the inhabitants of BaiĂŚ and CumĂŚ in the first century. In the museum at Naples, among the most interesting relics rescued from Pompeii, are fresco sketches of the gay life of these fashionable watering places in the days of Tiberius Caesar. They ran their marble piers with summer pavilions and bathing stations - the debris of which are still visible through clear waters - straight out into the sea. Why cannot Brighton do the same? Bathing moles of solid masonry or rock, or even slighter structures of iron, fitted with suitable steps, would enable the bathers to strike the sea at any point and at any depth. Upon these moles would be the dressing rooms, reading,

refreshment and lounging rooms; while the structure itself would act as a kind of breakwater in rough weather, and we should be spared the spectacle of dishevelled women left high and dry on the beach by the waves clinging frantically to the wheels of the bathing machine , or trying to climb with sundry humiliating accidents the slippery ladder. No one who has gone carefully over the baths of Caracalla can help confessing the superiority of the ancient over the modern freshwater bagnères, and I have no doubt they were just as far ahead of us in their sea-bathing arrangements. Great places like Brighton and Eastbourne can afford to spend thousands on their piers and their boulevards, while the bathing upon which so much of the "season" turns is left in the hands of low caterers, who treat the public exactly as unprincipled landlords treat the poor in the filthiest of London slums. The bathing machine seldom painted or repaired, and used til it literally drops to pieces, is exactly on a level with the ramshackle tenements in the Paradise-rows and Blue-anchor alleys of the metropolis. Some

years ago I believe the mayor and corporation of Brighton, in consequence of a stir in the local press, met in solemn conclave, and ordained that a considerable distance should separate the ladies' from the gentlemen's machines. I hope I shall live to see something even better than that done. Let the town provide its visitors with suitable bathing moles, and make compulsory as they do abroad - suitable costumes, which would at once abolish the necessity of separating the sexes in the water, and allow families and friends to meet in the sea as freely and unconstrainedly as they do in each other's drawingrooms. As I was making the faithful study of the Brighton bathing machine engraved above, by me swept the trim, engineless, and almost silent railway carriage, driven by an invisible electro-motor and plying along the beach between the Aquarium and Kemptown. The contrast was unspeakably droll and sudden. For a moment the old and new stood face to face - the bathing machine and the electric carriage! Good mayor and corporation look upon this picture and upon that.

'Mermaids at Brighton' by William Heath (1795 - 1840), ca. 1829. Depicts women sea-bathing with bathing machines at Brighton.

From 'Mr Punch at the Seaside'

All in the Day's Work

"And look here! I want you to take my friend here and myself just far enough to be up to our chins, you know, and no further!"

Discover some of the hidden jewels Of the North Yorks Moors. This years programme of walks has everything from short family rambles to a challenging 12 mile moorland hike for experienced walkers. Each walk is guided by National Park Rangers, specialist guest leaders or a knowledgeable and dedicated band of volunteers. They will take you to almost every corner of the Park to enjoy a breath of fresh air, to look at wildlife, geology, archaeology, buildings, signs of Spring, beautiful views, in fact almost everything that makes the North York Moors the place it is. Booking is essential

Other information

All walks are FREE but donations are welcome as they help us to care for the National Park.

Unless specifically stated dogs are welcome on walks provided they are on a short fixed lead at all times.

Places are limited on all walks and each one operates on a first come first served basis, so booking is essential. To book a place call 01439 772738 What to bring

Please wear appropriate clothing and suitable footwear. Do bring sun protection in hot weather. Please bring plenty to drink and for our longer walks, the individual event details will state whether you need to bring a packed lunch with you.

1 Level 1 Walks are 30 minute walks on easy going terrain for about 1-1.5miles. Total time allowing for stops etc will be about 1hr.

Children are welcome on all walks but MUST accompanied by an adult; some of the walks stipulate a minimum age. A number of walks are accessible by wheelchair and this will be specified in the individual walk details. You can get to many of our walks by Moorsbus or public transport, check out for more information.

2 Level 2 is slightly more challenging. You will be walking about 2 or 3 miles. These walks could take up to 2 hours including information stops.

3 Level 3 is the highest level and will be up to 5 miles. These walks are much more challenging and you will need to be reasonably fit; they could take up to 3 hours for the total walk including information stops.

Sunday 2 June

Sunday 2 June

Starfish and standing stones

Sinnington through the centuries

Guest Wildlife Ranger Chris Hansell of the Hawk and Owl Trust leads you on a 2 mile walk taking in the flora, fauna and history of Latter Gate Hills and Standing Stones Rigg. There is one stile en-route. Packed lunch required.

Step back in time in Sinnington on a 2 mile walk led by Jim Hall that touches on the Norman Conquest and follows in the footsteps of Catherine Parr, while also visiting a 12th century church, medieval hall, a maypole, a strangely located packhorse bridge and a once very busy railway station.

Start 10:30am finish 12:30pm Brow Top car park, Fylingthorpe (OS Grid Ref. NZ930045

Start time 2:00pm finish 4:00pm Sinnington Village Hall

wed 5 June

Wed 5 june

The skirting of crinkle moor

Where's the abbey

Join Mike Nicholson as he takes you down from Carlton Bank into Raisdale, around the impressive hill that is Cringle Moor, and back along a section of the old jet miners' track. It's a 5 mile walk with magnificent views, which will leave you with a better understanding of man's influence on the landscape. There are some styles. Start 10:00am Finish12:30pm Lord StonesCafĂŠ car park (OS Grid Ref NZ524029)

Join Peter Turtonon a 1.5 mile, wheelchairfriendly walk around Rosedale Abbey. We'll explore the varied history of this quiet village and attempt to locate a long-lost monastic community. Accessible by wheelchair Start 6:30pm Finish 7:45pm Rosedale Abbey Camping and Caravan Site entrance.

Wed 3 July

wed 3 july

Howdale and stopped brow moor

Walking with Romans?

Guest education officer Tanya Eyreof the Hawk and Owl Trust takes you ona 3.7mile wildlife walk in the butterfly season. During the outing you'll enjoy views of two very different landscapes - heather moorland and rugged coastline.

Walk with Peter Turton along Wade's Causeway, long considered to be one of the finest example of a surviving stretch of Roman roadway in the country. This 2 mile walk challenges the accepted view and wonders who else can lay claim to this splendid thoroughfare.

Sorry, no dogs allowed. Packed lunch required.

Start 6:30pm Finish 8:00pm

Start 10:00am Finish 1:00pm Ravenscar transmitter mast car park (OS Grid Ref NZ970012)

Wheeldale Bridge over Rutmoor Beck, Keys Beck Road (OS Grid Ref SE803970

REALLY GET TO KNOW THE NORTH YORK MOORS Join a National Park Ranger or one of our specially chosen experts on one of our walks.

Sunday 2 June

Saturday 8 June

Sat 15 June

Magical Moorland Walk

Cleveland Way Icons Walk

Butterflies on the Beach

Explore our magical moorland on a 4 mile walk with National Park Ranger Jay Marrison and learn all about moorland management. It's a oneway route that leads into and above Newtondale Gorge - a minibus will take you back to the start.

Join Andrew Carter, the Cleveland Way Ranger, on a stunning 7 mile linear walk, visiting two iconic features of the Cleveland Way National Trail - Roseberry Topping and Captain Cook's Monument - with a tearoom stop at the end. Meet at Kildale Station to catch a train to There are two steep Great Ayton where the descents, two steep walk starts. The route ascents, and two stiles en includes a number of route. climbs.

Butterflies and dayflying moths are one of the real joys of the North York Moors, and butterfly expert Graham Featherstone will show you their hidden habitats on this 2 mile walk at Skinningrove cliffs, beach and dunes. The walk is on good paths, but there is a fairly steep descent and ascent. Packed lunch required.

Packed lunch required.

Start 10:30am

Start 9:30am

Start 11:00am


Finish 3:00pm

Finish 1:00pm

Saltergate car park on A169 (OS Grid Ref SE85239390)

Kildale Station (Grid Ref. NZ604095)

Skinningrove car park

Discover... Saltburn Circular

Your Route: With it's range of traditional seaside attractions and more recent businesses, Saltburn is worth a visit at any time of year. A stroll around the town’s outer edge highlights some aspects that many visitors perhaps never discover.

We begin this walk by starting from Saltburn railway station portico in Station Square. Walking past the Sainsbury’s store on your left, turn left at the corner of the building and walk along Milton Street.

At the junction with Marine Parade, railway bridge on your left, cross the road with care and follow the wide pathway down the slope through Hazel Grove.

At the bottom of the hill bear to the right to walk along the Lower Promenade passing the slipways and the pier on the seaward side and walk through the car park towards the main road.

Crossing the road with care bear left and walk towards Camfields before turning right at the footpath which runs alongside the coffee bar.

Your route now runs through the Valley Gardens. Continue ahead until you arrive at the footbridge at the miniature railway halt. Cross the bridge and continue along the pathway to climb steps and pass the tea rooms on your left.

Timber buildings of the Woodland Centre line your path as you continue ahead to join the Cleveland Way.

Sculpted metal seats line your route and there are views of Rushpool Hall Hotel across the wooded valley on your left.

Continue walking along the woodland track until you

at the point where there is a junction of routes. Take the right hand route to pass Chards and then The Coach House on your right hand side. Continuing along Marske Mill Lane there is a range of housing styles on both sides of the roadway before you cross the railway bridge.

You have now reached the junction with the Guisborough Road where you turn left and make your way up the slope towards Saltburn Golf Club passing Hob Hill House on your right.

holiday park on your left you will soon pass the frontage of Our Lady of Lourdes RC Church, again on your lleft, and continue ahead to the junction with Marine Parade.

Crossing with care, retrace your steps back along Milton Street to return to your starting point at the railway station.

Arriving at Saltburn Golf Club cross the road with care and walk across the overflow car park.

Start: Saltburn railway station portico Distance: 4 miles

Continuing beside the fence on your right walk between groups of trees to reach Woodrow Avenue and walk ahead to the junction with Marske Road.

After crossing at the pedestrian lights follow the roadside pavement as far as the Parkway where you turn right down the slope towards the railway.

Going: Roadside pavements, tarmac walkways and woodland paths. Several moderate gradients. Care needed crossing public roads. Refreshments: Choice of venues in Saltburn many of which are en route.

Dogs: Under proper control

A tunnel takes you underneath the tracks and you then Wheelchair access: Not suitable turn right beside allotments. Passing Hazelgrove

50 Spades of Clay...

Growing your own fruit and vegetables.

June The first of the early potatoes can be lifted this month for your first taste of outdoor grown new tubers. Take care when lifting not to spear the tubers – use a fork with wide spaced tines if you have one (of course a potato fork is ideal), and insert it into the ground a good 30cm (12in) from the crown of the plant. If the majority of tubers are still quite small, you may decide to just lift what you need for a taster and to leave the rest for another few weeks to ‘fatten up’. You should have fed your strawberry beds in March or April and now is a good time to apply a mulch of straw to keep the developing fruit from the ground so ensuring it doesn’t become soiled by dirty rain splashes. The mulch also helps to deter hungry slugs although it is a good idea to give a light scattering of animal friendly slug pellets to the soil prior to laying the mulch.

Birds will become very interested in your crop as it begins to ripen, so take some time to cover the plants as soon as possible and to put any bird deterrents in place such as suspended old CDs, polythene bags or humming tape. Providing the weather is warm, squashes (butternuts, summer and winter squashes, cucumbers and pumpkins) can be planted outside this month. They are greedy feeders so they need a sunny, sheltered spot and a very fertile soil, preferably a patch which had lots of well rotted manure, leafmould or garden compost added to it in the autumn. Even so these are one crop that can’t really have too much of a good thing and will benefit from more organic matter dug into the planting hole, plus a dressing of general fertiliser, dug into the planting site.

Squashes are best planted on a small mound of well mixed soil and organic matter which is about 15cm (6in) high and at least 30cm (1ft) in diameter. This ensures that excess water can drain away from the main stem. Unlike tomatoes, these plants should be planted no deeper than the level of the top of the compost in the pot. Firm gently and water with a can fitted with a fine rose to thoroughly soak the soil. These plants also require plenty of water and it can help to ensure they get enough if an old drinks container or similar is cut in half and buried so that it funnels water and liquid feed to the roots during the summer. Alternatively, use a drip irrigation system where a nozzle (two nozzles in the case of large pumpkins) can be positioned near to the roots. Support the stems with a stake initially to prevent wind damage until the plants toughen up. Make sure your fruiting plants have sufficient water when the fruit is swelling. This is critical to a good crop.

Thin out plums and apples in June. Better to have one reasonable apple than three miniature marbles. Nature naturally tends towards this and sheds excess fruit. This is known as the 'June Drop'. It's best to thin out after this. The infantry of slugs and snails are attacking at ground level so take action to keep them down. The birds are also eager to eat your crops so don't forget the netting.

â?Ż Sow now... Beans, carrots, chicory, endive, lettuce, kale, kohl rabi, peas, beetroot, winter cabbage (early in the month), radish, swedes, sweetcorn, turnips. â?Ż Plant now... Broccoli, Brussels sprouts, kale, summer cabbages, cauliflowers, peppers, leeks, celery, celeriac, cucumbers, squashes, tomatoes, sweet potatoes.


Sweetcorn is most successful in long hot summers, though many modern cultivars are better suited to cooler climates. Sow: Indoors in May, outdoors in June. Soil: Manure heavily the previous season, and mulch up the stems once the plants are established to encourage adventitious roots. Sun: Full sun Grow: Sweetcorn is wind-pollinated, so should be planted in blocks rather than rows, 18in apart, once all frosts have passed. Water well – sweetcorn mustn’t dry out. Don’t grow more than one cultivar in a small garden, unless you stagger the flowering times: cross-pollination ruins the sweet taste. Harvest: Test for ripeness when the tassels have turned chocolate brown - squeeze a grain between thumbnail and fingernail; if a watery liquid squirts out, it is unripe; if it is creamy, the cob is ready; if pastelike it is over-mature. Twist ripe cobs from the stem. They rapidly lose their flavour so have a pan of boiling water ready before you harvest, ready to plunge them in. Problems: Slugs can attack in early stages, so sow under cloches. Mice, jays and pigeons can also be a nuisance so set traps and net the crop if necessary.

Backdraft Things you might have missed...

Breaking news, events and happenings you might have missed last month.

As well as the announcement that the viaduct is to get a facelift it was also the target for a different kind of attention last month when metal thieves attempted to remove a cable from one of the railway viaduct pier legs. The thieves not only risked their lives by using a wooden stake to attempt to pry the 11,000 volt cable off Saltburn viaduct, but they also caused the power to circuit which left hundreds of homes in the area in the dark for more than half an hour. The wooden stake used was fried by the electricity from the cable which then short circuited and could have quite easily burnt anyone within a four foot radius.

Saltburn Viaduct to get a facelift. Network Rail has applied to Redcar and Cleveland Council for listed building consent to repair the 19th century Victorian viaduct off Marske Mill Lane, Saltburn.

A report with the planning application states the viaduct was probably designed by Harrison, the company engineer who built a number of structures for the North Eastern Company. The authorisation for the line was granted in 1865, and the line was opened on June 1, 1872.

Sections of brickwork on the 11-span, Grade II Listed structure are showing signs of wear and tear.

The report states: “The viaduct is of historic significance to the area as it was built to serve the Skinningrove ironstone mines.

The application is for brickwork replacement to the viaduct, including the repair of open joints, spandrel wall fractures on two spans and on three of the pier legs. Permission is also being sought for additional repointing and brickwork replacement as identified during the work.

No archaeological significance has been assessed as part of this application as the works proposed shall not impact on this area.

The imposing, 180ft-high viaduct - the same height as Middlesbrough’s Transporter Bridge - is used daily by heavy goods trains travelling across it on their way to and from Cleveland Potash at Boulby.

The asset is of local significance as several similar examples of this type of viaduct exist on the railway network. The proposed works are sympathetic to the asset and are designed to improve its viability and future maintenance.


Another fine yarn. After severe weather conditions blasted winds of 50-60mph off the North Sea Saturday dawned with blue skies, bright sunshine and the summer season seems to have finally arrived. Friday night (May 24) brought it all on. The sun bathers, surfers and all the magic of the sea came out of the ether to herald another glorious period as Saltburn's mysterious yarn stormers took advantage of the calm after the storm to scuttle along the pier and festoon it with yet another woolly creation. Will the wool if tied together reach the moon, or just be long enough to measure the Great Wall? Saltburn has yet another work of incredible creation to be proud. We are not sure of the names of the mermaids, yet.

Alongside pirates, mermaids and lifeguards the knitted fi g u r e s a l s o i n c l u d e d a wonderful likeness of Saltburn's surfing wonder dog Meg, and her owner Sam. These whimsical handmade figures are strangely reminiscent of the traditional rag doll. Rag dolls have been made for centuries in many parts of the world and all of them are different. Dolls were usually stuffed with the least appealing fabric scraps and the best scraps were used for the doll's body and clothes. If there was hair, it was usually made of yarn or string. The doll's face was either embroidered, painted or left plain. Most early rag dolls have not survived due to the disintegration of the fabric over the years. The oldest surviving rag doll in North America is considered to be a doll made by a relative for Clarissa Field of Northfield, Massachusetts, around 1770. The doll is 15-1/4 inches tall, features distinctly sewn fingers and is dressed in

18th-century fashion, including a corset! During the early years in Colonial America, children were hurried into adulthood, which left little time for play. By the 1780s children were encouraged to play with gender-related toys. Thus, playing with dolls was encouraged for little girls. Girls could dress the doll, care for it as a mother would, and even learn to make clothes for it as they learned to sew. Nothing characterises the American image of rag dolls more than the smiling face and red hair of Raggedy Ann. The red, white and blue doll!

Raggedy Ann The classic American Rag Doll Red, White and Blue. Raggedy Ann is a fictional character created by American writer Johnny Gruelle (1880–1938) in a series 
 of books he wrote and illustrated for young children. Raggedy Ann is a rag doll with red yarn for hair and has a triangle nose. The character was created in 1915 as a doll, and was introduced to the public in the 1918 book Raggedy Ann Stories. A doll was also marketed along with the book to great success. A sequel, Raggedy Andy Stories (1920) introduced the character of her brother, Raggedy Andy, dressed in sailor suit and hat. Gruelle is said to have created Raggedy Ann for his daughter, Marcella, when she brought him an old hand-made rag doll and he drew a face on it. From his bookshelf, he is said to have pulled out a book of poems by James Whitcomb Riley, and combined the names of two poems, "The Raggedy Man" and "Little Orphant Annie" saying, "Why don’t we call her Raggedy Ann?"

The core account of this particular legend -- a family doll being retrieved from the attic -- is based on some factual evidence. According to Johnny Gruelle's wife, Myrtle it was her husband, not her daughter, Marcella, who retrieved a long-forgotten family-made rag doll from the Indianapolis attic of his parents home, some time around the turn of the century.

"There was something he wanted from the attic," Myrtle recounted. "While he was rummaging around for it, her found an old rag doll his mother had made for his sister. Her said then that the doll would make a good story."

Marcella died at the age of 13, shortly after being vaccinated at school for smallpox without her parents' consent. Authorities blamed a heart defect, but her parents blamed the vaccination. Gruelle became an opponent of vaccination, and the Raggedy Ann doll was used as a symbol by the anti-vaccination movement.

In 1918 around the same time as his Raggedy Ann Stories were first published by the P.F. Volland Company, Johnny Gruelle rented a loftspace in Norwalk, CT, and set his family to work constructing several dozen handmade Raggedy Ann dolls to be marketed along with the books. Whether these were prototype dolls for Volland to use, display dolls, or were among the first dolls to be commercially marketed, is not documented. And no one can verify just how many (or how few) of these dolls were produced by the family.

Later dolls were manufactured by Gruelle's publishing company. In 1934, Volland Company discontinued the manufacture and sale of books and dolls because of the depression. In April, 1935, Gruelle granted permission to Exposition Doll & Toy Manufacturing Company to manufacture and sell "Raggedy Ann" dolls under the 'Raggedy Ann' trade-mark. At the same time dolls were also made without his permission (during legal limbo) by MollyE's Doll Outfitters between 1935-38 resulting in the case of Gruelle v (Mollye) Goldman.

Initially the case of Gruelle's v Goldman was decided in 1936 in Mollye Goldman's favour. Gruelle's attorney immediately filed an appeal and in December 1937 Johnny finally won his lawsuit. The MollyE's Doll outfitters were ordered to pay damages and prohibited from any further manufacture of the dolls. During the lawsuit Gruelle's health had deteriorated rapidly and on January 9th 1938, only three weeks after the settlement, Johnny Gruelle died of a heart attack leaving his wife to take stock and develop the business further.


As I write this, I have before me on my desk, propped up against the telephone, an old rag doll. Dear old Raggedy Ann!

The same Raggedy Ann with which my mother played when a child. There she sits, a trifle loppy and loose-jointed, looking me squarely in the face in a straightforward, honest manner, a twinkle where her shoe-button eyes reflect the electric light. Evidently Raggedy has been to a "tea party" today, for her face is covered with chocolate. She smiles happily and continuously. True, she has been nibbled by mice, who have made nests out of the soft cotton with which she has been stuffed, but Raggedy smiled just as broadly when the mice nibbled at her, for her smile is painted on. What adventures you must have had, Raggedy! What joy and happiness you have brought into this world! And no matter what treatment you have received, how patient you have been! What lessons of kindness and fortitude you might teach could you but talk; you with your wisdom of fifty-nine years. No wonder Rag Dolls are the best beloved! You are so kindly, so patient, so lovable. The more you become torn, tattered and loose-jointed, Rag Dolls, the more you are loved by children. Who knows but that Fairyland is filled with old, lovable Rag Dolls—soft, loppy Rag Dolls who ride through all the wonders of Fairyland in the crook of dimpled arms, snuggling close to childish breasts within which beat hearts filled with eternal sunshine.

So, to the millions of children and grown-ups who have loved a Rag Doll, I dedicate these stories of Raggedy Ann.


Marcella liked to play up in the attic at Grandma's quaint old house, 'way out in the country, for there were so many old forgotten things to find up there. One day when Marcella was up in the attic and had played with the old spinning wheel until she had grown tired of it, she curled up on an old horse-hair sofa to rest. "I wonder what is in that barrel, 'way back in the corner?" she thought, as she jumped from the sofa and climbed over two dusty trunks to the barrel standing back under the eaves. It was quite dark back there, so when Marcella had pulled a large bundle of things from the barrel she took them over to the dormer window where she could see better. There was a funny little bonnet with long white ribbons. Marcella put it on.

In an old leather bag she found a number of tin-types of queer looking men and women in old-fashioned clothes. And there was one picture of a very pretty little girl with long curls tied tightly back from her forehead and wearing a long dress and queer pantaloons which reached to her shoe-tops. And then out of the heap she pulled an old rag doll with only one shoe-button eye and a painted nose and a smiling mouth. Her dress was of soft material, blue with pretty little flowers and dots all over it.

Forgetting everything else in the happiness of her find, Marcella caught up the rag doll and ran downstairs to show it to Grandma. "Well! Well! Where did you find it?" Grandma cried. "It's old Raggedy Ann!" she went on as she hugged the doll to her breast. "I had forgotten her. She has been in the attic for fifty years, I guess! Well! Well! Dear old Raggedy Ann! I will sew another button on her right away!" and Grandma went to the machine drawer and got her needle and thread.

Marcella watched the sewing while Grandma told how she had played with Raggedy Ann when she was a little girl. "Now!" Grandma laughed, "Raggedy Ann, you have two fine shoe-button eyes and with them you can see the changes that have taken place in the world while you have been shut up so long in the attic! For, Raggedy Ann, you have a new playmate and mistress now, and I hope you both will have as much happiness together as you and I used to have!"

Then Grandma gave Raggedy Ann to Marcella, saying very seriously, "Marcella, let me introduce my very dear friend, Raggedy Ann. Raggedy, this is my grand-daughter, Marcella!" And Grandma gave the doll a twitch with her fingers in such a way that the rag doll nodded her head to Marcella.

"Oh, Grandma! Thank you ever and ever so much!" Marcella cried as she gave Grandma a hug and kiss. "Raggedy Ann and I will have just loads of fun." And this is how Raggedy Ann joined the doll family at Marcella's house, where she began the adventures of Raggedy Ann, told in the following stories.


One day the dolls were left all to themselves.

Their little mistress had placed them all around the room and told them to be nice children while she was away. And there they sat and never even so much as wiggled a finger, until their mistress had left the room. Then the soldier dolly turned his head and solemnly winked at Raggedy Ann. And when the front gate clicked and the dollies knew they were alone in the house, they all scrambled to their feet. "Now let's have a good time!" cried the tin soldier. "Let's all go in search of something to eat!" "Yes! Let's all go in search of something to eat!" cried all the other dollies. "When Mistress had me out playing with her this morning," said Raggedy Ann, "she carried me by a door near the back of the house and I smelled something which smelled as if it would taste delicious!" "Then you lead the way, Raggedy Ann!" cried the French dolly. "I think it would be a good plan to elect Raggedy Ann as our leader on this expedition!" said the Indian doll. At this all the other dolls clapped their hands together and shouted, "Hurrah! Raggedy Ann will be our leader." So Raggedy Ann, very proud indeed to have the confidence and love of all the other dollies, said that she would be very glad to be their leader. "Follow me!" she cried as her wobbly legs carried her across the floor at a lively pace. The other dollies followed, racing about the house until they came to the pantry door. "This is the place!" cried Raggedy Ann, and sure enough, all the dollies smelled something which they knew must be very good to eat.

But none of the dollies was tall enough to open the door and, although they pushed and pulled with all their might, the door remained tightly closed.

The dollies were talking and pulling and pushing and every once in a while one would fall over and the others would step on her in their efforts to open the door. Finally Raggedy Ann drew away from the others and sat down on the floor.

When the other dollies discovered Raggedy Ann sitting there, running her rag hands through her yarn hair, they knew she was thinking.

"Sh! Sh!" they said to each other and quietly went over near Raggedy Ann and sat down in front of her. "There must be a way to get inside," said Raggedy Ann. "Raggedy says there must be a way to get inside!" cried all the dolls. "I can't seem to think clearly to-day," said Raggedy Ann. "It feels as if my head were ripped." At this the French doll ran to Raggedy Ann and took off her bonnet. "Yes, there is a rip in your head, Raggedy!" she said and pulled a pin from her skirt and pinned up Raggedy's head. "It's not a very neat job, for I got some puckers in it!" she said.

"Oh that is ever so much better!" cried Raggedy Ann. "Now I can think quite clearly."

"Now Raggedy can think quite clearly!" cried all the dolls. "My thoughts must have leaked out the rip before!" said Raggedy Ann. "They must have leaked out before, dear Raggedy!" cried all the other dolls. "Now that I can think so clearly," said Raggedy Ann, "I think the door must be locked and to get in we must unlock it!" "That will be easy!" said the Dutch doll who says "Mamma" when he is tipped backward and forward, "For we will have the brave tin soldier shoot the key out of the lock!"

"I can easily do that!" cried the tin soldier, as he raised his gun. "Oh, Raggedy Ann!" cried the French dolly. "Please do not let him shoot!" "No!" said Raggedy Ann. "We must think of a quieter way!" After thinking quite hard for a moment, Raggedy Ann jumped up and said: "I have it!" And she caught up the Jumping Jack and held him up to the door; then Jack slid up his stick and unlocked the door.

Then the dollies all pushed and the door swung open. My! Such a scramble! The dolls piled over one another in their desire to be the first at the goodies. They swarmed upon the pantry shelves and in their eagerness spilled a pitcher of cream which ran all over the French dolly's dress.

The Indian doll found some corn bread and dipping it in the molasses he sat down for a good feast. A jar of raspberry jam was overturned and the dollies ate of this until their faces were all purple. The tin soldier fell from the shelf three times and bent one of his tin legs, but he scrambled right back up again.

Never had the dolls had so much fun and excitement, and they had all eaten their fill when they heard the click of the front gate.

They did not take time to climb from the shelves, but all rolled or jumped off to the floor and scrambled back to their room as fast as they could run, leaving a trail of bread crumbs and jam along the way.

Just as their mistress came into the room the dolls dropped in whatever positions they happened to be in. "This is funny!" cried Mistress. "They were all left sitting in their places around the room! I wonder if Fido has been shaking them up!" Then she saw Raggedy Ann's face and picked her up. "Why Raggedy Ann, you are all sticky! I do believe you are covered with jam!" and Mistress tasted Raggedy Ann's hand. "Yes! It's JAM! Shame on you, Raggedy Ann! You've been in the pantry and all the others, too!" and with this the dolls' mistress dropped Raggedy Ann on the floor and left the room.

When she came back she had on an apron and her sleeves were rolled up. She picked up all the sticky dolls and putting them in a basket she carried them out under the apple tree in the garden. There she had placed her little tub and wringer and she took the dolls one at a time, and scrubbed them with a scrubbing brush and soused them up and down and this way and that in the soap suds until they were clean.

Then she hung them all out on the clothes-line in the sunshine to dry.

There the dolls hung all day, swinging and twisting about as the breeze swayed the clothes-line.

"I do believe she scrubbed my face so hard she wore off my smile!" said Raggedy Ann, after an hour of silence.

"No, it is still there!" said the tin solder, as the wind twisted him around so he could see Raggedy. "But I do believe my arms will never work without squeaking, they feel so rusted," he added.

Just then the wind twisted the little Dutch doll and loosened his clothes-pin, so that he fell to the grass below with a sawdusty bump and as he rolled over he said, "Mamma!" in a squeaky voice.

Late in the afternoon the back door opened and the little mistress came out with a table and chairs. After setting the table she took all the dolls from the line and placed them about the table.

They had lemonade with grape jelly in it, which made it a beautiful lavender color, and little "Baby-teeny-weeny-cookies" with powdered sugar on them.

After this lovely dinner, the dollies were taken in the house, where they had their hair brushed and nice clean nighties put on. Then they were placed in their beds and Mistress kissed each one good night and tiptoed from the room. All the dolls lay as still as mice for a few minutes, then Raggedy Ann raised up on her cotton-stuffed elbows and said: "I have been thinking!"

"Sh!" said all the other dollies, "Raggedy has been thinking!" "Yes," said Raggedy Ann, "I have been thinking; our mistress gave us the nice dinner out under the trees to teach us a lesson. She wished us to know that we could have had all the goodies we wished, whenever we wished, if we had behaved ourselves. And our lesson was that we must never take without asking what we could always have for the asking! So let us all remember and try never again to do anything which might cause those who love us any unhappiness!"

"Let us all remember," chimed all the other dollies. And Raggedy Ann, with a merry twinkle in her shoe-button eyes, lay back in her little bed, her cotton head filled with thoughts of love and happiness.

Local Notes... Complaints by the sea... There are a number of complaints which can be heard regularly throughout the seasons. The following article expresses one visitors experience of sea bathing at Saltburn. A SALTBURN GRIEVANCE (To the editor of The Northern Echo) Sir - Will you kindly allow me, through the medium of your very widely-read paper, to protest against a very objectionable annoyance to which the lady visitors at Saltburn are subject while sea-bathing, and one which I observe to be growing worse than it used to be. Having frequently bathed myself I find it to be a regular practice for men and boys to walk about and stand between our bathing machines and the water intently watching the lady bathers. I have had to enter the sea with a rough boy wading in and shouting after me and afterwards to reach my machine under the fixed and impudent gaze of vulgar fellows close at hand, and, further, I have on more than one occasion been deterred from coming out of the sea as soon as I should from this very offensive cause. That this watching of the female bathers in no way ensures their safety is proved by the melancholy fatality which occurred last week, while remaining in the water too long is wellknown to be very injurious, and to anyone unaccustomed to the exercise of bathing the consequences might possibly be serious. On my complaining to the proprietor of the bathing vans about the above nuisance he readily acknowledged it, but said it was the duty of the "wise men of Saltburn" to look after such matters. I should like therefore, by your kind indulgence, to request these "wise men", whoever they may be, to defend the ladies bathing-ground from the intrusion of men and boys, at any rate between the machines and the sea. This could easily be done by a short notice posted up in a few conspicuous places. The "wise men" would also further improve the Saltburn beach as a place of recreation by interdicting the wanton breaking up of ginger beer bottles &c. under the pier and sea wall, the quantity of broken glass strewn about these places being a constant danger to the children's naked feet. I pass over the litter of waste paper throwing about on the cliffs and other occasional disfigurements fearing to trespass further on your space - thanking you in anticipation of a timely insertion I remain, yours truly, A RECENT VISITOR Saturday, August 19th 1899

Now mind, if any of those nasty people with cameras come near, you're to send them away!

This article, which paints a fascinating picture of the bathing machine, appeared in the Huddersfield Chronicle on 19th August 1871.


On this day in June... 1st - 1967 British pop group The Beatles release the groundbreaking album 'Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band'. 2nd - 1953 Elizabeth II is crowned queen in Westminster Abbey, London. 3rd - 1946 1st bikini bathing suit displayed (Paris) 4th - 1913 Suffragette Emily Davison dies after throwing herself in front of the king's horse at the Epsom Derby. 5th - 1963 British Secretary of War John Profumo resigns his post following revelations that he had lied to the House of Commons about his affair with Christine Keeler, an alleged prostitute. 6th - 1683 The Ashmolean Museum in Oxford, England, opens as the world's first university museum. 7th - 1893 Gandhi's first act of civil disobedience. 8th - 793 Lindsfarne Monastery in Northumbria is sacked by Viking raiders and the monks are slaughtered. 9th - 1549 Book of Common Prayer is adopted by the Church of England. 10th - 1720 Mrs Clements of England markets the first paste-style mustard. 11th - Capt James Cook discovers Great Barrier Reef off Australia. 12th - 1665 English rename New Amsterdam, NEw York after the Dutch pull out. 13th - 323 BC Alexander the Great dies of a mysterious illness in Babylon, sparking 42 years of war for his succession. 14th - English Captain William Bligh and 18 others, cast adrift from the HMS Bounty seven weeks before, reach Timor in the East Indies after traveling nearly 4,000 miles in a small, open boat. 15th - Following a revolt by the English nobility against his rule, King John puts his royal seal on the document later known as the 'Articles of the Barons' 16th - 1963 Soviet cosmonaut Valentina Tereshkova becomes the first woman in space, aboard Vostok VI. 17th - 1631 Mumtaz Mahal dies during childbirth. Her husband, Mughal emperor Shah Jahan I, then spends more than 20 years building her tomb, the Taj Mahal. 18th - 1815 Wellington decisively defeats Napoleon at the Battle of Waterloo, ending 25 years of war in Europe.

For centuries mustard has been a staple of the English kitchen. Thirteenth century Tudor households were said to consume mustard in enormous quantities. An earl of Northumberland would go through between 160 and 190 gallons of mustard a year. English mustard powder as we know it today is credited to a woman named Mrs Clements. The story goes that in 1720 she developed a powder that produced a smooth-textured mustard rather than the grainy type which was usual throughout England. What was so revolutionary about her mustard was that she ground the seeds in a mill rather than crushing them with a mortar and pestle, and she then put the mustard flour through a sieve to remove the hulls. Mrs Clements took her 'discovery' from town to town and eventually to London, where it found favour with King George the First. Soon, mustard powder was made on a commercial basis throughout the country. It was referred to as 'Durham mustard' - a tribute to Mrs Clement's home town.

19th - 1829 Under Sir Robert Peel The Metropolitan Police Act receives royal assent, establishing a paid, uniformed police for London. 20th - 1837 Queen Victoria at 18 ascends the British throne following death of her uncle King William IV She ruled for 63 years ending in 1901. 21st - 1919 The German High Seas Fleet, which had surrendered to the Royal Navy, scuttles itself at Scapa Flow. 22nd - 1675 Royal Greenwich Observatory established in England by Charles II 23rd - 1951 British diplomats Guy Burgess & Donald Maclean, members of the Cambridge Five spy ring, flee to USSR. 24th - 1314 Robert the Bruce of Scotland defeats the English army under Edward II at Bannockburn, near Stirling. 25th - On this day in 1876, Native American forces led by Chiefs Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull defeat the U.S. Army troops of Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer in a bloody battle near southern Montana's Little Bighorn River. 26th - 1483 Richard III becomes king of England after declaring his nephews Edward and Richard illegitimate. 27th - 1967 The world's first ATM is installed in Enfield, London. 28th - 1820 Tomato is proven non-poisonous.(?). 29th - 1613 Shakespeare's Globe Theatre in London burns down when a theatrical canon is fired during the play 'All Is True'. 30th - 1936 Margaret Mitchell's Gone with the Wind, one of the best-selling novels of all time and the basis for a blockbuster 1939 movie, is published. Tomatoes were not grown in England until the 1590s. One of the earliest cultivators was John Gerard, a barber-surgeon. Gerard's Herbal, published in 1597, and largely plagiarized from continental sources, is also one of the earliest discussions of the tomato in England. Gerard knew the tomato was eaten in Spain and Italy. Nonetheless, he believed it was poisonous. Gerard's views were influential, and the tomato was considered unfit for eating (though not necessarily poisonous) for many years in Britain and its North American colonies. By the mid-18th century, tomatoes were widely eaten in Britain, and before the end of that century, the Encyclopædia Britannica stated the tomato was "in daily use" in soups, broths, and as a garnish. One story has it that it was Colonel Robert Gibbon Johnson of Salem, New Jersey who proved once and for all that tomatoes were non-poisonous and safe for consumption. He stood on the steps of the Salem courthouse and bravely consumed an entire basket of tomatoes without keeling over or suffering any ill effects whatsoever. His efforts are said to have attracted a crowd over over 2,000 people who were certain he was committing public suicide. The local firemen's band even played a mournful dirge to add to the perceived morbid display of courage. The story was not published until 86 years later so it is open to speculation as to what actually took place and when.

Richard III - the man behind the myth. We now know that it was for want of a helmet, not a horse, that Richard III lost his

kingdom. Whether it was overconfidence or an impetuous act on the battlefield Richard's final charge into the battle proved a gamble too far. Cut off and betrayed England's last medieval king went down fighting. The discovery of his skeleton at Grey Friars in Leicester provides a graphic insight into the brutal passing of the last Plantagenet king. Careful study of the skeleton revealed 10 wounds caused at or around the time of death. Eight were to the head. These injuries would seem to open a window to his last stand. Cut off, on foot, without helmet, he fought on as hacking and stabbing blows rained down on him from all sides. Deliverance took the form of two blows to the back of his head. After death his corpse was stripped naked and slung over a horse for that final ride to Leicester. At some point an onlooker drew a dagger and thrust it into Richard's right buttock with such force it penetrated bone. He was hurriedly buried in a grave that was too small, legs bundled in first, head lolling against a corner shaft. There was no coffin or shroud. The skeleton also reveals that Richard suffered from severe scoliosis - a sideways curvature of the spine. His natural height was around 5’ 8" - unusually tall for this period, but not unsurprising given that his brother Edward was also tall at 6’ 4" - and his right shoulder would have been raised higher than the left. The bones also reveal that Richard had a slender, almost feminine build. What the skeleton cannot reveal is the true nature of his character and the question of responsibility for the murder of the Princes in the tower remains as much of a mystery as ever.

Les Très Riches Heures