Monday, 30 July 2018

Gribbin Head Daymarker



This tall square tower stands on Gribbin Head, southwest of Fowey on the south Cornwall coast. To all intents and purposes it looks like a lighthouse, complete with red and white stripes, apart from one fundamental difference – no light!

Instead it is a “daymarker” as opposed to a “nightmarker”. The tower stands 84 feet high (25 metres), and is easily visible to sailors out at sea, but only during daylight hours. It has been in place on the headland since 1832.

So why was it built? 

The problem was that Gribbin Head (known to locals as “The Gribbin” looks very similar from out at sea to St Anthony Head, which is a few miles to the west, on the eastern side of Falmouth Bay. Sailors heading for Falmouth Harbour would naturally steer to the west of St Anthony Head, but if they made the mistake of confusing the two headlands, they would instead sail blindly into the shallow water of St Austell Bay to the west of Gribbin Head and be wrecked.

This mistake was only possible in daylight, because no ships would be attempting to reach port at night, so a daymarker was what was needed to warn them of the danger.
© John Welford

Wednesday, 11 July 2018

The Senate House Library of London University



This building is the Senate House in the Bloomsbury area of London (next door to the back of the British Museum). It is where I started my first job as a librarian, more than 40 years ago.
This is the central administrative building of the University of London and it houses a library that is open to students and staff who belong to any of the University’s many colleges. The library occupies most of the building in the picture, beginning at the second row of small windows and going all the way up to the top of the tower. When I was there it contained around one million books – what its capacity is today I simply don’t know.
On finishing my degree course (at Bangor, North Wales) in 1974 I was unsure what I wanted to do as a career. I thought that librarianship was a possibility, so I applied to join a scheme that offered one-year placements for graduates at university libraries, at the grade of “student assistant librarian”. This was like an internship, but a proper salary was part of the deal. 
So in September 1974 I started work. I found a place in a hostel in Muswell Hill (north London) and commuted into central London by bus and tube.
I learned a lot at the Senate House. There were three of us who started on the same day, all from different universities, and the library staff devised a plan by which we would work in two different departments in each of the three terms. They shifted us round so that we never worked together at the same time.
I therefore got a grounding in Circulation, Acquisitions and Reference work, as well as working in some specialist subject libraries. It was in the pre-computer age, as far as libraries were concerned, so there were rows and rows of catalogue drawers to file cards into, a highly complicated filing system for Acquisitions records, and a huge row of trays of tickets for the manual issue system. 
A regular job involved searching the closed stacks for rare items and for PhD theses, the latter of which were stored at the very top of the tower – the only part of the building that was not heated!
The library contained a number of special collections that had been bequeathed to the University at various times. The strangest of these had to be the Harry Price Library of Magical Literature. Harry Price had been a noted psychical researcher (i.e. ghost hunter) in the inter-war years and he had acquired a large collection of material on many aspects of the paranormal. The library was stored in a remote part of the building to which the public were not normally admitted. The wind whistled through the pipes to add a distinctly eerie atmosphere, and many of the library staff did not like visiting this collection as they sensed a “presence” when they did so.
In recent years I have often wondered if J K Rowling ever used this library as part of her research for the “Harry Potter” books. She would certainly have gained a lot of information had she done so, and the similarities between the Harry Price Library and that of Hogwarts School are quite striking. I also wonder if that is why Harry Potter is called Harry.
After my year at the Senate House I felt ready to carry on and become a proper librarian. I therefore won a place at the College of Librarianship Wales (at Aberystwyth) where I gained my professional qualification in 1976 (I returned in 1987 to take an additional Masters degree).
© John Welford

Friday, 6 July 2018

The history and architecture of Lichfield Cathedral



Lichfield Cathedral’s claim to fame is that it is the only cathedral in Britain to have three spires (“The Ladies of the Vale”), two at the west end and the third, and tallest at 252 feet, at the crossing. It is unfortunate in that it has suffered from considerable damage over the centuries, and the various efforts at restoration have not always been sympathetic to the original design.

The history of the cathedral

The cathedral began as a shrine to St Chad, an English bishop who died at Lichfield (in south Staffordshire) in 672. There were originally three wooden chapels on the site, dedicated to St Mary, St Peter and St Chad, but these were replaced by a cathedral that was begun in 1085. However, this was in turn replaced by the cathedral that is seen today and which was begun in 1195 and completed in the 1330s, thus offering a variety of styles of English Gothic. 

The oldest part of the cathedral that has survived is the western end of the choir, which demonstrates some late Norman features as well as the typical pointed arches of Early English.

Lichfield Cathedral was built using local sandstone that is notable for its variations in colour, these being more clearly seen on the inside where weathering has not been a factor.

The west front, with the two spires, contains niches for more than a hundred statues. When first built, these represented a mixture of saints, kings and the supposed ancestors of Christ, but nearly all of them were pulled down and smashed by Cromwell’s troops during the Civil War in the 17th century. The replacements that are seen today are Victorian copies that Alec Clifton-Taylor has described as “passable advertisements for the local hairdresser, every little wisp of hair having been carefully ‘set’ in a fussy little curl”.

The Civil War was a bad time for Lichfield Cathedral, which was a battleground on three separate occasions between the forces of King Charles and those of Parliament. The damage included the destruction of the central spire and the removal of the roof, plus the smashing of all the stained glass. Repairs started soon after the Restoration of Charles II in 1660 but took until the 19th century to be completed. For example, some of the stained glass seen today (in the Lady Chapel) is of 16th century origin but was bought from an abbey in Belgium in 1802. 

Lichfield Cathedral also fell victim to the misguided degradations of James Wyatt in the 1790s, but the more sympathetic work of George Gilbert Scott in the 1850s and 1870s helped to undo some of the damage, despite the awful west front statues.

Features of Lichfield Cathedral

Probably the best feature of the cathedral’s interior is the aisled nave, which is 14th century. The proportions are excellent, being reminiscent of those of Westminster Abbey, of similar date, although the nave is not as lofty. There is a pleasing symmetry in the design, with geometrical patterning in the clerestory windows, the tribune arches and between the nave arcades that traces a progression of three lobes in each pattern at the top, four in the middle and five lower down. This is an excellent example of the “Geometrical Decorated” style of English Gothic. 

An unusual feature of the decoration is the stone carving on the capitals of the arcade and springing-points of the vault. This has been done to represent purely natural objects such as oak leaves and acorns, which adds a pleasing touch and does something, purely coincidentally, to counteract the fact that the vault is only of wood and plaster and not the original stone. 

The chapter house is of interest, being an elongated octagon vaulted from a central pier and dating from 1249. It is situated on the north side of the choir and approached via a vestibule in which is a medieval pedilavium, or a place where bishops (and sometimes kings) would wash the feet of poor people on Maundy Thursday.

It is possible to stand at the west end of the cathedral and see right through to the east end, as there are no screens or other obstructions in the way. At the east end is the Lady Chapel, which forms an extension of the choir and is built to the same height, but without aisles. One can just make out the slight bend in alignment of the Lady Chapel, caused by the need to fit the foundations to the lie of the sandstone bedrock of the site.

Lichfield Cathedral is by no means the greatest of English cathedrals but it is certainly well worth a visit, not least to view some of the treasures it contains such as the Chad Gospels, an illuminated manuscript dating from around 730.

 © John Welford

The history and architecture of Durham Cathedral




Durham Cathedral is surely the greatest example of Romanesque architecture, certainly in England and probably the world. Begun in 1093 and completed in its essentials only 40 years later (later additions included the towers and cloisters) it is a remarkable survival of the years when Norman kings ruled England some 900 years ago.

The history of Durham Cathedral began in the year 995 when a group of monks sought a safe resting place for the remains of St Cuthbert who had died in 687. The saint’s bones had first been taken from their original place of burial on Lindisfarne in 875 and been kept in various places in the meantime. There is a legend that the monks were led to the site at Durham by following a wandering cow which stopped when it reached a bend in the River Wear where the cathedral now stands. Be that as it may, this site was ideal for the purpose as it stands high above the river on an easily protected promontory.

The first shrine on the site was known as the White Church, which was replaced by the current Cathedral. The bones of St Cuthbert were moved to the new building in 1104, long before it was complete.

As was often the case with medieval cathedrals, building began at the eastern (choir) end and it would have been usable by 1128 before the nave was complete. There is some evidence that the vaulting of the choir presented problems, which is presumably why the nave vault was constructed as it was, with every precaution taken against collapse.

The Galilee Chapel at the west end of the nave was built later in the 12th century, and the Chapel of the Nine Altars, next to the Shrine of St Cuthbert at the eastern end, dates from the 13th century.

Early medieval cathedrals were much more concerned about interiors than exteriors, so were often built without those features that people today associate with great cathedrals, namely high towers and spires. The three towers of Durham Cathedral, which now seem so iconic and architecturally correct, were an afterthought, with the two western towers, although begun in the Romanesque style, being completed in 1226 in the Gothic style that was then current. The central tower was built in the late 15th century, replacing an earlier construction, and some of the finishing on the towers dates from Victorian times.

The bulk of the cathedral as seen today, at least from the inside, is Norman-Romanesque. The impression as one enters is of solidity and yet great beauty at the same time.

One of the most striking features of the interior of Durham Cathedral is the massive piers that line the nave, choir and transepts. These alternate between pairs of circular and composite piers as one walks along. The composite piers (as if composed of vast bunches of sticks) sweep upwards without interruption and the circular piers are incised with geometrical patterns including spirals and chevrons. It is possible that the incisions were once filled with metal but they are now bare.

The stone vaulting of the nave is particularly fine, and is the earliest example in England of a vault that uses a pointed arch. Transverse arches cross between the composite piers but between the round piers the ribs are formed as St Andrew’s crosses. The transverse arches take off from quite low down on the triforium level (the middle of the three rows of arches in a typical cathedral nave); this may be objected to from an aesthetic viewpoint but it has the advantage of adding strength to the ceiling construction and reducing the stresses on the uppermost clerestory level.

Just to be on the safe side, the architect also included flying buttresses to prevent the weight of the roof from causing the walls to bulge outwards. These are not visible from the outside of the building because they are hidden by the roofs of the side aisles.

Taken together, the massive piers, the ingenious stone vaulting and the flying buttresses have certainly stood the test of time. Despite not having the advantages of modern technology to calculate all the stresses involved in a building of this size, its designers would doubtless be delighted to learn that, some 900 years later, their work is still in place.

Another architectural feature of interest at Durham is the Galilee Chapel at the west end. This is the cathedral’s Lady Chapel, which in every other English cathedral would be found at the east end, typically behind the high altar. However, the legend has it that St Cuthbert was a well-known hater of women whose spirit could not abide the presence of an altar to the Virgin Mary so close to his own shrine, especially as this was the only part of a monastic church that women were permitted to enter. He therefore, so it is said, caused the foundations of the chapel to collapse when efforts were made to build it in the 1170s, hence its positioning at the opposite end of the cathedral. When the Chapel of the Nine Altars was later built at the eastern end it suffered from none of the earlier problems, presumably having St Cuthbert’s blessing.

Be that as it may, the Galilee Chapel is a low projection set against the west front of the cathedral, right against the edge of the drop to the river. The restorer James Wyatt, working in the late 18th century, proposed to demolish the Galilee Chapel to enable a roadway to be opened across the front of the cathedral but was fortunately dissuaded from this act of vandalism.

The architect who designed the Galilee Chapel must have visited Moorish Spain at some time and been impressed by the Islamic building styles that were in evidence there. Durham’s Galilee Chapel therefore imitates the Great Mosque of Cordoba with its slender pillars and arches. At Durham the space is divided into five aisles and the round arches are decorated with a zigzag pattern that recollects the chevron incisions on the pillars in the main cathedral. This chapel is the resting place of the Venerable Bede, whose remains were originally brought to the cathedral in 1020.

Durham Cathedral is a very satisfying building to visit because it retains its Romanesque integrity throughout with little subsequent mucking about to disturb the grand design. The interior and exterior of the cathedral need to be considered quite separately, because the exterior features, which relate so closely to the cathedral’s dramatic setting, are only partly derived from the original concept.

Despite its early origins, Durham Cathedral pointed the way forward to later developments in English cathedral building, not least the pointed vault arches and the invention of flying buttresses. Students of Gothic cathedral architecture would do well to start their investigations at Durham.

 © John Welford

Tuesday, 3 July 2018

The George Inn, Southwark



The George Inn, in the Southwark district of London, not far from London Bridge and The Shard, is a remarkable survivor from the past.

The outstanding feature of The George is the part that contains two galleries that overlook an enclosed courtyard. It is the only surviving galleried inn in London. However, it is the reason why the galleries were built that is of real interest.

This district of London was renowned in Elizabethan times for the theatres it contained, including The Globe where William Shakespeare performed and for which he wrote a number of his plays. However, before dedicated playhouses were built, it was customary for plays to be performed in taverns and inn yards. Inns that featured galleries were able to offer their wealthier clientele a better view of the performers, not to mention the advantage of not having to mingle with “penny stinkards” who comprised much of the audience!

When purpose-built theatres were being designed this feature was incorporated in the plans.

Galleried inns continued to offer entertainment of this nature long after the theatres had become established, such was the demand for theatrical performances of all kinds. It is believed that at least six such inns were in business during the latter part of the 16th century.

The mixture of drama and alcohol often led to rowdy behaviour and the general belief that acting was a shady career. There was one recorded incident (not at the George Inn) when two actors took exception to an audience member and attacked him and his companion with the swords they had been using on stage, with fatal consequences. This sort of incident was a prime cause behind the suppression of the theatres by the Puritans in the 1640s, only to be lifted in 1660 after the restoration to the throne of King Charles II.

The George Inn we see today is not the original one, which was lost in a fire in the 1670s. The inn was rebuilt in 1677 along exactly the same lines and functioned as a coaching inn for many years. It was mentioned by Charles Dickens in his 1855-7 novel Little Dorrit. 

The George Inn is now maintained by the National Trust but still functions as a licensed premise. You can still be entertained at the George, although not in quite the same way that they did it 450 years ago!
© John Welford

Grimes Graves, Norfolk




A field in the heathland near Thetford in Norfolk looks like a grassy equivalent of the surface of the moon, with many shallow depressions giving the landscape a pockmarked appearance.

However, this area has not been subject to bombardment by meteorites. Instead, it is a very early example of an industrial landscape, the industry in question being flint mining in Neolithic times, at around the time that Stonehenge was being built. 

Miners used deer antlers as picks to dig vertical shafts that were up to 40 feet deep. They were searching for pieces of flint that could then be shaped, chiselled and polished to produce axes and knife blades. Although flint was easy to find on the surface, being a type of quartz that is commonly found in chalk and limestone rocks, this was subject to weakening through regular freezing and thawing. Harder flints were available underground, hence the need to mine for them.

When a pit was exhausted, the spoil that had been dug from it was used as refill material. This would later settle down to form a depression in the ground. It can therefore be seen that more than 400 pits were dug in this area, which covers some 34 acres, during a period of around 1,000 years.

The site is now in the care of English Heritage, and visitors will be most interested in the single pit that has been re-opened and which they can descend to see exactly how the flint miners worked. Short galleries were dug off a central “hub” to reach the best flints. These were held hauled to the surface in baskets.

The name “Grimes Graves” dates from Saxon times, when the real purpose of the site was unknown. Grim was another name for the god Odin, and the depressions might easily have been imagined as the burial places of giants.

© John Welford

Monday, 2 July 2018

Durham Cathedral Tower



The photo was taken from the central tower of Durham Cathedral.

 To get to the top you need to climb 325 steps, which takes a good bit of puff! You start from a corner of the south transept, where you pay your £5.00 and confirm to the stewards that you are sufficiently sound in wind and limb to make the climb. 

Young children are not allowed up, and you are advised not to do so if you have heart problems or are pregnant. Rescuing someone who has collapsed on a narrow spiral staircase would be a real problem, so you can appreciate why these precautions are necessary.

The first part of the climb is on a fairly wide spiral staircase, but when you reach the top of the transept you go along a short passage that takes you to the central tower. The staircase from this point is much narrower than the first one and quite claustrophobic. There are only a couple of places where it is easy to pass someone coming the other way, so you may either have to retrace your steps or get quite friendly with a total stranger.

At one point the spiral changes from right-hand to left-hand, but this does not last long before it changes back again. You may find yourself getting a bit dizzy with all these tight circles, especially on the way down.

When you get to the top you can spend as long as you like looking out over the city and the countryside beyond. There is nowhere in Durham that is even close to this in terms of height, so this is easily the best vantage point. You just have to hope that the weather hasn’t changed for the worse as you were making your way up!

© John Welford