The memorial to Sir Arthur Sullivan, Embankment Gardens, London

Sir Arthur Sullivan (1842-1900) was the composer half of “Gilbert and Sullivan” who wrote a series of comic operas in the late 19th century that have been performed to great acclaim ever since. Sullivan was also a composer of note in other fields, particularly choral church music. His best-known contribution in this genre was probably the hymn tune to “Onward Christian Soldiers”. 

The Gilbert and Sullivan operas were staged at the Savoy Theatre in London’s Strand, so it is appropriate that the memorial to Sir Arthur stands in the Embankment Gardens facing in the direction of the Savoy Hotel and Theatre, although his bronze bust, if granted the gift of sight, would find that his view was obscured by high buildings. 

The memorial is conventional enough in concept, in that it is a bust on a stone plinth, but there are features that make it somewhat unusual. 

At the base of the plinth, to one side, is an extra piece of bronze consisting of a mandolin, a mask of Pan, and a score of one of Gilbert and Sullivan’s works, namely The Yeoman of the Guard. 

However, what catches the eye to a far greater extent is the figure of a young woman clasping the plinth in a pose that conveys great distress. Even more remarkable is the fact that her emotional state has caused her costume to fall to her waist, leaving her upper portion naked. 

One has to ask – why? The figure of the girl was not originally modelled with the Sullivan memorial in mind, having been made in Paris in 1899 when Sir Arthur was still alive, but somebody clearly thought that it would convey the sorrow that many people felt at the loss of the great man. Whether they would be adequately represented by a half-naked young woman is a matter for conjecture. 

It might have been thought that the figure was reminiscent of one of the Gilbert and Sullivan operas, namely Patience, which features “rapturous maidens” draping themselves over the object of their affection, the poet Reginald Bunthorne who was loosely modelled on Oscar Wilde. If that is so, potential opera-goers need to be reassured that – in the vast majority of performances – all such maidens stay fully dressed throughout the show! 

At all events, the afterthought of adding the maiden to the plinth has resulted in what is probably one of the more erotic memorials to be found in London!

© John Welford

Chesil Beach, Dorset

Chesil Beach is the seaward side of Chesil Bank, which stretches 29 km (18 miles) along the coast of Dorset. It has the effect of connecting the Isle of Portland to the mainland, trapping a tidal saltwater lagoon known as the Fleet. It is an example of a tombolo, the name given to a spit that reaches to an island. 

Chesil Bank probably formed offshore and was driven onshore by waves and tides. It faces southwest towards the Atlantic and the prevailing winds, so it is in no danger of returning whence it came. That was also a problem in past centuries for sailing ships that found themselves driven on to the beach, because there was no way of setting the sails to allow an escape. 

Like most storm beaches, Chesil is steeply sloped with a gradient of up to 45 degrees on the seaward side. 

Chesil Beach is studied as an example of what happens under conditions of variable wave energy. At the Portland (eastern) end wave energy is much greater than at the western end. This means that smaller pebbles are washed offshore by the strong eastern waves but onshore by the weaker western waves. This graduated effect can be traced all along the beach, such that a blindfolded expert could tell exactly where he/she was if dumped at any point on the beach, simply by feeling the size of the pebbles, which are pea-sized at one end and potato-sized at the other. 

© John Welford

Blythburgh, Suffolk

Blythburgh is a village in Suffolk, not far from the coast and within an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. The village is close to marshes and heathland, and the tidal lagoon of Blythburgh Water. These make the area extremely rich as a wildlife resource. 

Blythburgh Church (Holy Trinity) is a large building that seems to be out of proportion to the size of the village. Known as the “Cathedral of the Marshes” it gives the impression that Blythburgh must once have been considerably larger than it is now. However, there is no evidence that the village was ever anything other than a small one. There was once an important medieval priory nearby that was wealthy enough to endow a large church, so that is why it is the size it is. The choir stalls have holes for inkwells, due to the chancel once having had a dual role as a school. 

The church is notable for its medieval carving, particularly the large angels that look down from the rafters and the pew ends. The rafters and angels show evidence of having been shot at. This was once thought to have been the work of Cromwellian soldiers who were trying to destroy “popish idols”, but the more likely explanation is that local boys were shootings jackdaws in the church! 

The pew end carvings, which are known as “poppyheads”, feature the Seven Deadly Sins (plus a few extras) being guarded against by the angels overhead. Slander has his tongue out, Gluttony has a prominent paunch, Hypocrisy prays with his eyes open, and Sloth is still in bed. 

In 1577 a lighting bolt brought down the church spire. This was blamed as the work of the Devil, which was confirmed when Black Shuck, the legendary devil dog of the marshes, ran through the church and killed two parishioners. 

Well – that’s what they said! What was certainly true was that the collapse made a hole in the roof and the congregation had to worship beneath umbrellas on wet days before the roof was repaired. 

This is certainly a village that is well worth a visit, both for the splendours of Holy Trinity Church and the delights of the local countryside.

© John Welford

Old Sarum, Wiltshire

Old Sarum is a prominent hilltop site about two miles north of the city of Salisbury in Wiltshire. The history of the site goes back to Iron Age times, when a giant earthwork was raised to enclose a camp some 56 acres (23 hectares) in area. It was occupied almost continuously by Romans, Anglo-Saxons, Danes and Normans.

A Norman castle and cathedral were built, as well as houses and other buildings, but there were two main problems with this arrangement that came to a head in the early 13^th century. The first was that the military and ecclesiastical authorities could never agree over who had priority over the running of the city, and the second was that this windswept hilltop might have been OK for a relatively small group of Iron Age farmers, but it did not suit the needs of a growing urban community. In particular, water supply was always a problem.

There was, however, plenty of water in the open space to the south of Old Sarum, where four rivers joined together. The clergymen therefore decided to build a new cathedral to the south, using stones from the old building. This became the Gothic edifice of Salisbury Cathedral, which was usable by 1258, but without its magnificent spire, which came later.

The population of Old Sarum gradually migrated to “New Sarum” and the old city was eventually abandoned when the castle also fell into decay. Evidence of what was once there is limited to a few fragments of the castle and the outline of the cathedral foundations.

However, the fact that Old Sarum was virtually dead by the mid-13^th century did not prevent the original borough from being given the privilege of sending two members to the English Parliament founded by Simon de Montfort in 1265. This right was maintained for more than 500 years until the Great Reform Act of 1832 did away with the “rotten boroughs”, of which Old Sarum was one of the most rotten!

© John Welford