Sweet Williams

Picture by Margot K Juby

Round the corner from the Duke of Cumberland sits this quietly unassuming public house named officially as the  King William the Fourth; a mouthful for anyone so known universally as the King Billy. Now I've only just found that the William referred to here was the fourth, no-body remembers Billy IV. Everyone knows Will I (the Conqueror or Billy the Bastard, 1066 and all that, a good thing), Willy II (aka Rufus, died (murdered?) while hunting in the New Forest) and then our Glorious King William the Third ( the King Billy; the great deliverer, who gave us our freedom, religion and laws) but William the Fourth who he, when all the dust is settled? As Margot succinctly put it  "He's the Gordon Brown of Kings"; poor sod, forgotten by all save the sots of Cottingham. 

... and the fading flowers are, of course, Sweet Williams, not, as some north of the imaginary border, call them Stinking Billies (ragwort actually) and besides the Stinking Billy in that case was William, Duke of Cumberland (Butcher Cumberland to some who knew him well enough to suffer) and, as I say, he lives round the corner.

William is such a sweet name, dontcha think?

Billy's Old Nag

At the risk of being trampled under hoof I bring you this unusual angle on the King William statue in Market Place. The poor old thing looks in need of another coat of gold leaf.

Some Silly Billyness

For today's offering I present our great deliverer in a reflection of the door way of the King Billy pub on Market Place. I read recently that King William was the very man who introduced this country to gin ("England may I introduce to Gin, Gin meet merry old England; I'm sure you'll get along famously!" and so it came to pass.), well he can't have been all bad.

A conspiracy of traffic lights

Today's theme for City Daily Photo is 'Landmark'. So here's my offering, no, not the overly large religious building in the background that has been there so long it's at the top of this blog. Nor yet the dim outline of King Billy riding off down Market Place. No, today's landmark is this collection of traffic lights which you must admit is pretty impressive (I make it 18 or more in this view). It has been noted somewhere, possibly apocryphally,  that it is possible to drive by motorway from Liverpool to Lublin without meeting a single traffic light (but do watch out for the ferry) except when passing through this slow-you-down-and-stop-now-start town of Hull. These lights, of course, are installed, at strategic points along the road, so that motorists can admire the more obvious landmarks that you see here...

I must confess that I looked for a collective noun for traffic lights, as you do, and found the title of this post in this really obscure link.

Market Place

Here the tubs of Spring flowers bring a little splash of colour to the near deserted Market Place. If you're wondering where the market is it left decades ago.

King W

We don't do military coups in Britain, at least not very often. The last one was in 1688 when a supposed fear of popery and all things Catholic was used as an excuse to bring in a mercenary and his Dutch army to oust the King and his followers. This hired thug was then made king; though the City of London with its financial power was the ultimate ruler of the country and still is to this day. Of course these events are never referred to as a putsch or an invasion, no, this is our 'Glorious Revolution'.

I've shown this adornment to a public urinal before (here) but there's no harm in posting a couple of new shots, is there?

Our great deliverer ....

This ridiculous piece of Whig triumphalism stands in Market Place, Lowgate, Hull. Strangely, like the Victoria monument, this too overlooks a public convenience. Is this a Hull thing? Do other cities pee under their royals?

The inscription on the plinth reads "This statue was erected in the year MDCCXXXIV, to the memory of King William, our great deliverer". It doesn't say what he delivered ....