Tuesday, 17 September 2019

As he lived he died ...

"A handsome monument has been erected, by the congregation, in St Mary's church Hull, to the memory of the Rev. John Scott. It is in white marble, and built in the wall to the left of the organ. In the centre is a bold basso-relievo likeness of the deceased, encircled by palm branches; the likeness is exceedingly striking, although the only guide the sculptor had was a black profile, a small pencil drawing, and the suggestions of the friends of the deceased. The accessories are a crown of glory, unfolded by the removal of drapery, a book opened, and the communion vessels. Underneath is written the following inscription: "In memory of the Rev. John Scott, M.A. eighteen years minister of this parish, who died October 16,1834, aged 47 years, and is interred within the communion rails. His high endowments were devoted to the great object of making full proof of his ministry. 'Mighty in the Scriptures,' he declared ' the whole council of God' with singular judgment, energy, and simplicity. As he preached he lived— and as he lived he died. To perpetuate the remembrance of the fervent piety of their pastor and friend, an affectionate congregation have erected this monument." The sculptor is Mr. T. Loft, of London, a native of Hull.—The Committee for furthering the Subscriptions on behalf of the family of the Rev. Thomas Scott, the Commentator on the Scriptures, and father of the above, announced in July last, that the amount then received was somewhat less than 2800l. "This sum, though considerable in itself, will yet be admitted to be very inadequate to benefit no less than fifteen young persons, (the grand-children) more or less unprovided for."
                       Extract from The Gentleman's Magazine and Historical Chronicle, 1835, Volume 158

It's nice to have someone write your stuff for you nearly two hundred years before you need it but then you find they've gotten his age wrong, he was 57 not 47, it seems journos can never be trusted. Also Johnny Scott may have been "mighty in the scriptures" but to leave fifteen children "more or less unprovided for" strikes me as being a tad too reliant on the Almighty not suffering the soul of the righteous to famish.

The weekend in black and white is here.

Monday, 16 September 2019

The Jube

Jube, Domine, benedicere

The church of St Mary on Lowgate has featured a few times in this electronic mishmash. I thought I'd posted stuff from inside but maybe it's hiding somewhere I can't find it. Here's the rood screen or jube which separates the paying customers and general riff-raff in the mosh pit or nave from the holy end with the brass and stuff. It supposedly adds to the mystery of what is little more than a two thousand year old confidence trick. This looks pretty old but in fact is from 1912 by one Temple Lushington Moore (you just don't get  names like that any more) as the craze for renovating old English churches was drawing to a close, the Great War would finish off that madness completely. The above is just a detail; it's really quite thing ...


Saturday, 14 September 2019

Μεζεδοπωλείο


The Greek is on Princes Avenue. This place used to be a fish and chip restaurant for a short while a couple of years ago ...


and before that it was probably the best off licence in the world ...


and there was no before that as far as I am concerned.

(That's three pictures I've finally found a use for.)

Friday, 13 September 2019

Hull Moon


The Church of England having long ago given up being in the god-bothering trade is now trying to pull in the paying punters with silly stunts. So Rochester Cathedral had a mini golf course installed while Norwich erected a helter-skelter slide with the aim of seeing the place differently. I mentioned a few days ago that this place, Holy Trinity, was hosting a Michelangelo exhibition; this follows on from last year's giant inflated model of the moon suspended in the nave. I believe they also have a real ale festival and a gin festival as well though not at the same time.


Meanwhile God does not play dice but is unbeatable at whiff-whaff...

Thursday, 12 September 2019

The Old Police Court


"In the criminal justice system, the people are represented by two separate yet equally important groups. The police who investigate crime and the district attorneys who prosecute the offenders. These are their stories."

You've no doubt heard the spiel at the beginning of Law and Order (if not  then you've had a lucky life). However it wasn't always the case in this country (that is to say England and Wales, Scotland has its own way of doing law and don't even ask about Northern Ireland)  that the police and the prosecutors were separated so neatly. Up until the mid 1980s police officers could and would prosecute offenders in certain cases. Officially they were acting as private citizens in court but in reality the same officer could investigate an offence, arrest a suspect and then prosecute the case, no doubt they would have been judge and jury as well if they could. Clearly this was unsatisfactory and prone to corruption of process. I give this little  history lesson to explain how the Guildhall comes to have an entrance marked Police Court. Nowadays we have an independent Crown Prosecution Service and Magistrates courts and everything is all just tickety-boo, well that is their story. 
The fat putti, the medusa head, the teeny George and Dragon, and the freemasonry handshake (!!) I leave to your imagination. They show signs of having been damaged at some time and stuck back together; the Guildhall was hit by bombs during the last war so maybe that explains this. The entrance is down the street from the equally well adorned Crown Court entrance I showed some while back and now serves the Coroner's Court.


The weekend in black and white is here.

Wednesday, 11 September 2019

Small & Red


Claims to be the smallest bar in this small town and who is going to argue? I think it could also be the reddest one as well. As I recall this place used to be a solicitor's office until a few years back. Manor Street is the place to seek out this delight and if it's full you can always go to the one on the corner...


Monday, 9 September 2019

Verdant, crumbling and in need of repair


Queen's Gardens pond looking really quite nice in the early September sunshine, almost picture postcard perfect, the only fly in the ointment being the big white streak of stupid imposed on the good folk of this town by the tasteless town council. Just don't look behind you as the walls are fenced off (well supposedly fenced off) and in danger of collapse and officially in need of urgent repair.


Sunday, 8 September 2019

A Sunday Morning Stroll

"...it's oh so nice to just wander
But it's so much nicer, 
yes it's oh so nice, to wander back"

On this bright and not very warm Sunday morning, while gentlemen in  England were abed, I set off down Hotham Road North


carried on down this grassy path


over this tastefully decorated footbridge


down Priory Drive, a quiet back street filled with the chirping of sparrows


trudged along the soul destroying Hotham Road South


walked down Wold Road


passed this young crow sitting on a fence


and arrived at my destination ... Ta daa


well yeah erm underwhelming doesn't begin to tell it ... "Worth seeing, yes; but not worth going to see" was Dr Johnson's opinion of the Giant's Causeway, this gravity defying rubble is not even worth seeing. This is all that remains of Haltemprice Priory farmhouse built in the early 16th century or thereabouts. It said that some of the building uses stone from Haltemprice Priory which if HenryVIII hadn't dissolved the whole lot would have gone into receivership or the medieval equivalent. The site of the priory is a scheduled monument though there is nothing to see but a huge security fence.  As you can see it's a lot of a wreck and despite being Grade2 listed it is on that list of buildings at risk.
The whole walk was about a little bit over two miles to this place and was proof of that old saying that "to travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive". Better still though is the coming back and putting your feet up.

Saturday, 7 September 2019

Never heard of him


John Enderby Jackson was apparently someone of note (or notes even) and has a small plaque in Queen's Gardens which I came across today. I won't sit here and pretend I know who he was or what he did but I will link to something that Google popped up so you can amaze your friends with your knowledge of the arcane ways of musical band competitions and the history there of. Here's the little link.

Friday, 6 September 2019

King George's Field

"To promote and to assist in the establishment throughout the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland of playing fields for the use and enjoyment of the people."

When George V died in 1936 some folk wanted to have a memorial that was a bit more useful than yet another statue and came up with the fine idea of recreation fields. The entrance to each field (and there are 471 of them dotted around the UK ) has to have these "heraldic panels or other appropriate tablet medallion or inscription commemorative of His Late Majesty". I read they were supposed to be in carved stone or cast in metal but these seem to be shall we say concrete castings and a little the worse for wear. Never mind, we struggle on. (Something else I discovered in reading about this is that in Scotland they too have a lion and a unicorn but the unicorn, which after all  represents Scotland in this heraldic nonsense, is on the left post and has a crown. I find this differentiation somehow quite petty and pleasing at the same time.)



This particular field is between Cottingham Road and Inglemire Lane close by the University and I have, over the past thirty odd years, walked by thousands of times without entering. That is until yesterday when we went to have a little look see. It is down a neat tree lined lane and is just a big playing field with a few swings and things. But plenty of folk were using it either walking the dog, mucking about or kicking a ball and that's the main thing I guess. I just wonder if anybody remembers poor old Georgey.


Thursday, 5 September 2019

Fifty five days to Hallowe'en


I bring news of pumpkins. Pumpkins, correct me if I'm wrong, are supposed to sphericalish and, well, orange. Hmm. The one above seems to think it is some kind of stumpy marrow or obese courgette. T'other one, for there are, despite many flowers, just two fruit, has decided to appear four foot up an ivy clad wall and thus needs some support. It's the right shape just a bit too yellow for my liking. Maybe by the end of October it, and so many other things, will ripen nicely.


Wednesday, 4 September 2019

Just don't drop it


What's this? Some kind of fair ground attraction at the back of Staples, a place well known for attractions of an all together different sort? No, not even close.
Back in April I mentioned that work had started on building a footbridge across Castle Street. Well in the past few days in this car park just a few yards down the road this has spring  up. Yes, it looks like the long awaited bridge just needs lifting up and putting in the right place and we should be good to trot. But quite how you lift a girt heavy and wide load like this and place it with pinpoint accuracy on its supports is thankfully not my concern. Let's just hope they don't drop it.

The Weekend in Black and White is here.

Tuesday, 3 September 2019

The Gnomes of Kingswood


The red theme continues until I get sick and tired of it which will be about now.
Here's Asda's idea of garden ornamentation, a thirty quid gnome. Erm thanks but no thanks.


You can thank Margot for this picture.

Monday, 2 September 2019

Sunday, 1 September 2019

Saturday, 31 August 2019

Simply add water


The river Hull in these parts is basically an extension of the North Sea and as such is subject to the same tidal ups and downs. Which means if you don't much like being stuck on the the muddy banks then wait a while and a soothing, reflective brown influx will gently lift you up. 


Weekend Reflections are here.

Friday, 30 August 2019

A Devilish Plot


... and so it came to pass the news that they had dreaded... Parliament to be prorogued! It's a coup, I tell you, a very British coupe (sic). A devilish plot to undermine the Will of the People. The people being a small portion of those who were in a minority three years ago and have filibustered and conspired to thwart the decision by the majority to leave the corrupt European Union. MPs simply must have time to debate this issue, three years not being enough seemingly. It's unconstitutional, though the Queen signed off on it and it should happen, and indeed has happened regularly for three centuries, to each and every Parliament . 
I think I have never seen so much stupidity parading itself in righteous indignation. So many public figures making total fools of themselves. So many empty threats to do this, to do that. I don't know what you can make of MPs who threaten lock themselves into the chamber of the House of Commons after prorogation and refuse to leave. Suit yourselves, mate, it still not a sitting Parliament. 
Opposition party elements have met to decide who amongst them should be the next Prime Minister after a vote of no confidence (which they haven't won yet, nor yet put down a motion Parliament being still in summer recess). Will they chose the leader of the opposition? Here's a man who has promised on becoming PM to only be there a while, "Make me "temporary" PM", he pleaded, like anybody believes that or anyone with a brain would put that mad man in charge of a sweet shop never mind a country. Or perhaps it will be the ancient right honourable member for Nottingham, the Father of the House, a man known for wearing suede shoes and boozing and playing jazz records, which makes him eminently suitable for the job. This conspiracy or coup, as you might very well say, against the will of the majority is of course, they say, to uphold the will of Parliament. (and there in lies the rub, for this Parliament is the problem, it has failed to carry out the will of the majority).
The Speaker of the House of Commons, a man who by tradition has "neither eyes to see nor tongue to speak" has spoken in a most unconstitutional way and demonstrated once again his bias and his unfitness for the role. 
There's a petition (isn't there is always a sodding petition?) to stop the whole thing. A petition to be put before Parliament, which will , of course, be prorogued ... The local paper headlines that "thousands" have signed it from this region, the truthful headline would read that hundreds of thousands haven't signed it. But truth sells no papers nor is it yet click bait.
Others who imagine themselves to be leaders of some left wing insurgency (bless them for they know not what they do) are claiming mass demonstrations up and down the country to "stop the coup" ... erm two men and their granny and perhaps a dog (the dog voted leave but now has no choice) outside a town hall in Manchester or Birmingham is hardly an insurgency. It's just, well, pathetic. 
Indeed the whole Remain thing is just a pathetic display of petulance by those who feel themselves entitled to have things their own way. They are a bunch spoilt middle class brats, some with the funds to have their day in court where they will find no solace (the government has broken no law other than the one that says no government shall do what it says it will do;  for that is truly unheard of). 
And so a madness has befallen the losers and apoplexy has struck all the right people. It is both an unpleasant and yet delightful spectacle watching the headless chickens run hither and yon. The devil must be having a good old laugh, I know I am.