The Folk music evening - change of venue...

The venue for the Folk music, on Saturday the 23rd of February, will NOW be The George and Dragon in Houghton from Seven Thirty onwards. This is where the talk will be taking place earlier in the afternoon. 

The 'Belloc' Day in Amberley, Sussex...

This notice regards the forthcoming 'Belloc' day in Amberley on the 23rd of February.

If you haven't booked to attend the talk I regret to say that it is too late as the function room cannot accommodate any more people. However, you are welcome to participate in the Amberley walk, which will start after the talk given by Chris Hare ('Belloc and Sussex' at One Thirty), and the 'Folk' evening in The George and Dragon (please note the change of venue) from Seven Thirty onwards. Please assemble at the George and Dragon, in Houghton (over the bridge from Amberley Railway Station), for the walk at Three o'clock. 

If you are attending the talk, and have booked, please don't remind me as this will just confuse me! If you are booked for the talk, and not for food, please do so now or you will NOT be fed. But if you have sent me a notification, regarding food, please do not remind me for the aforementioned reason. 

Furthermore, if you do intend to eat you must turn up at Twelve in order for the George and Dragon to get everyone fed, on time, for the talk. 

Finally, it promises to be a splendid day out and I suspect that much fun will be had by all. 

Amberley Castle and Gardens

The Bridge Inn - courtesy of The Four Men...

'Mr Duke's parlour at The Bridge Inn'

We will be singing some Sussex folk songs (courtesy of Chris Hare), in The Bridge Inn, on the evening of the 23rd of February after our Belloc 'walk' around Amberley village.

The Bridge is mentioned on day five of 'The Four Men' (Belloc's literary pub crawl across Sussex). In this 'Farrago' the four featured travelling companions journeyed the twelve miles from Storrington to Duncton. On this leg, Belloc featured four inns: The Sportsman (just outside Amberley and where we will be having afternoon tea) and The Black Horse (now sadly closed) plus The Bridge Inn (next to Amberley railway station) and The George & Dragon in Houghton  (where our meeting will be held at 1.30 PM). Belloc, as "Myself", the narrator remarks:

"We came at last past the great chalk pit to the railway, and to the Bridge Inn which lies just on this side of the crossing of the Arun. When we had all four come into Mr. Duke’s parlour at the Bridge Inn, and ordered beer and had begun to dry ourselves at the fire, the Sailor said: ’Come, Grizzlebeard, we promised to tell the stories of our first loves when we came to Arun; and as you are much the oldest of us do you begin’".

Bob Copper (the famous, and now sadly deceased, Sussex folk song revivalist) in his book 'Across Sussex  with Belloc' continues:

"Let us press forward over Arun, and pursue our westward way beneath the hills. On the sturdy, stone bridge I paused to watch the dark waters glide smoothly below me, eddying round the cut-waters and carrying clumps of grass and river weed along the current. The meadows at the side were grazed down close, leaving only small patches of yellow ragwort here and there. I walked along the causeway and felt a strange satisfaction in seeing the speeding motor cars brought to a standstill by a herd of cows coming in from the field".

Set in the stunning Arun Valley, in the South Downs National Park, The Bridge Inn with its lovely beer garden is a delightful traditional English Pub, serving well kept real ales and delicious, locally sourced, home cooked food. Belloc stopped here in 1902. The Post Office Directory of 1890 and 1905 show that the Mr. Duke, who he makes reference to, was Walter Duke the landlord here during that time. The census of 1901 lists other residents of the house as Esther, his wife, plus sons Clarence and Frederick and three daughters Eva, Maria and Mabel.

After the The Bridge Inn Belloc pressed on to the George and Dragon in Houghton:

'So we did as he bade us, crossing the long bridge and seeing the water swirling through on the strong brown tide, and so along the causeway, and up the first ride into Houghton, where is that little inn, ''St. George and the Dragon'', at which King Charles the Second, the first King of England to take a salary and be a servant, drank as he fled from Worcester many years ago.'

On the Fate of Academics, James V. Schall, S. J.

In the Dent 1957 enlarged edition of J. B. Morton's 1938 edition of Hilaire Belloc: Stories, Essays, and Poems, we find an excerpt from The Path to Rome. This edition identifies Belloc in the following manner: "Hilaire Belloc, born on 27th July 1870. Educated at The Oratory School, Edgbaston. After leaving school served as a driver in the 8th Regiment of French Artillery at Toul. Matriculated at Balliol College, Oxford, in January 1893 (Brackenbury History Scholar, and 1st Class in Honour History Schools in June 1895). Died in 1953." Between 1895 and 1953, nothing is mentioned. We find no reference to Belloc's stint in the House of Commons, nothing of his family, of his sailing, of Chesterton, of what he wrote. To the British mind, perhaps, all that is important about a life is the date of birth, the date of death, and, in between, what schools attended, what academic honours received, and in what regiment served, even if in a foreign army. Perhaps that is enough.

The eleven page extract from The Path to Rome, begins with Belloc, very hungry, just over a crest of the mountains. He is looking back down the Rhône Valley. He has managed to find an Inn called "The Bear," in the town of Ulrichen. Therein he is met by a middle aged lady, "one of the women whom God loves." Belloc addresses her in French. She answers him in a "rustic" version of the same tongue. She looks at him in the eye as she speaks to him.

It was this straight-forward, untroubled gaze that incited Belloc to thinking about academics, not his favourite folk, to say the least. "Beware of shifty-eyed people," he begins. Their nervousness reveals a kind of "wickedness." No doubt what will happen to the shifty-eyed. "Such people come to no good." Belloc then asks the most marvellous question -- he is speaking to himself, one of his "Lector"- "Auctor" passages. "Why the greatest personages stammer or have St. Vitus' dance, or jabber at lips, or hop in their walk, or have their heads screwed round, or tremble in the fingers, or go through life with great goggles like a motor car?" He adds, for emphasis, "Eh?"

We have all met the man with the goggles, the one with the hop in his walk, the one with his head screwed round. From them we never got a straight answer. "I will tell you," Belloc informs us why. We are hardly prepared for the reason he gives for such stammerers, jabbers, and hoppers. "It is the punishment of their intellectual pride, than which no sin is more offensive to the angels."

All of this began, recall, when Belloc met the lady with the clear gaze in the Great Bear Inn. Suddenly, we are confronted in this unlikely spot with intellectual pride, surely the sin of the fallen angels. Who are these prideful ones? They are the ones who do not notice all the wonder to be found about them. A human being is more than a mind. Unless he is more, his mind is quite a dangerous thing. The angels are pure spirits; we are the rational animals, body and soul.

Belloc describes the situation of the mind-only-gentleman in this fashion:

What! here are we with the jolly world of God all round us, able to sing, to draw, to paint, to hammer and build, to sail, to ride horses, to run, to leap; having for our splendid inheritance love in youth and memory in old age, and we are to take one miserable little faculty, our one-legged, knock-kneed, gimcrack, grumpy intellect, or analytical curiosity rather (a diseased appetite), and let it swell till it eats up every other function?

What does the sane man do when this happens? He yells, "Away with such foolery."

Who is it, we might ask, that thinks the world of God to be jolly, who sings, draws, paints, hammers, sails, rides horses, runs, leaps? Who has love in youth and memory in old age? Who tells us it is a "splendid inheritance"? Why, it is Belloc himself, of course, perhaps still a bit annoyed that he did not himself end up as a very pedant, though this is hard to imagine. He knew the dangers of his own "grumpy intellect," for it could lead him to this very pride from which he was perhaps saved when he could not stay at Oxford.

The "Lector" wants to get on with the walk and quit these dreary philosophical musings. But the "Auctor" has a few more things to say. He repeats, "Away with such foolery." He decides to explain the problems we have with the pedants. They "lose all proportion." Worse, "they can never keep sane in a discussion." Belloc gives us an amusing example. The pedants "go wild on matters they are wholly unable to judge, such as Armenian Religion or the Politics of Paris or what not."

A man with a steady and balanced mind, with a clear gaze, on the other hand, has three questions to ask that keep him sane. These are 1) "After all it is not my business." 2) "Tut! tut! You don't say so!". And 3) "Credo in Unum Deum Patrem Omnipotentem Factorem omnium visibilium et invisibilium." In these last lines from the Creed, Belloc thinks, all the analytical powers of the pedants, the professors, are jammed "into dustheaps," by comparison.

Belloc then stops to add, as if it is preposterous, "I understand that they (the professors) need six months' holiday a year." If Belloc had his preferences, he would give them "the whole twelve, and an extra day on leap years." If they are on vacation all year long, they cannot do much damage. The "Lector" is anxious to get back to the story of the woman in the inn. And Belloc is willing to return to her. In fact, he has never left her example in all this chiding of prideful academics who need six months' vacation a year. The sin of pride reminds him of the Day of Judgement. "(On this day), St. Michael weighs souls in his scales, and the wicked are led off by the Devil with a great rope, as you may see them over the main porch of Notre Dame (I will heave a stone after them myself I hope), all the souls of the pedants together will not weigh as heavy and sound as the one soul of this good woman at the inn." I saw Notre Dame a couple of times, but never noticed above the main porch the Devil with a great rope leading startled pedants to their doom. But, of course, I did not know Belloc then.

Belloc finally sat down to eat. The good lady brought him food and wine. He found the wine good. However, the food had in it a "fearful herb," a spice or scent, "a nasty one." "One could taste nothing else, and it was revolting; but I ate it for her sake." The whole point of the redemption may be in these lines.

"We have for our splendid inheritance, love in youth and memory in old age."

These are the things that the biographical sketch of Belloc did not mention. They do make it possible for us to say, with him, "Credo in unum Deum, Patrem Omnipotentem, Factorem omnium visibilium et invisibilium," for these are the things that confound the pedants and cause us to look "to see the jolly world of God all about us."

'Schall on Belloc' from Generally Speaking, October, 1996. James V. Schall, S. J.

On Getting Respected in Inns And Hotels - Hilaire Belloc

The Fountain Inn - Belloc writes approvingly of the beer in The Four Men... Belloc's essay is required reading for those of you are who are attending the Belloc Day in Sussex! To begin at the beginning is, next to ending at the end, the whole art of writing; as for the middle you may fill it in with any rubble that you choose. But the beginning and the end, like the strong stone outer walls of mediaeval buildings, contain and define the whole. And there is more than this: since writing is a human and a living art, the beginning being the motive and the end the object of the work, each inspires it; each runs through organically, and the two between them give life to what you do. So I will begin at the beginning and I will lay down this first principle, that religion and the full meaning of things has nowhere more disappeared from the modern world than in the department of Guide Books. For a Guide Book will tell you always what are the principal and most vulgar sights of a town; what mountains are most difficult to climb, and, invariably, the exact distances between one place and another. But these things do not serve the End of Man. The end of man is Happiness, and how much happier are you with such a knowledge? Now there are some Guide Books which do make little excursions now and then into the important things, which tell you (for instance) what kind of cooking you will find in what places, what kind of wine in countries where this beverage is publicly known, and even a few, more daring than the rest, will give a hint or two upon hiring mules, and upon the way that a bargain should be conducted, or how to fight. But with all this even the best of them do not go to the moral heart of the matter. They do not give you a hint or an idea of that which is surely the basis of all happiness in travel. I mean, the art of gaining respect in the places where you stay. Unless that respect is paid you you are more miserable by far than if you had stayed at home, and I would ask anyone who reads this whether he can remember one single journey of his which was not marred by the evident contempt which the servants and the owners of taverns showed for him wherever he went? It is therefore of the first importance, much more important than any question of price or distance, to know something of this art; it is not difficult to learn, moreover it is so little exploited that if you will but learn it you will have a sense of privilege and of upstanding among your fellows worth all the holidays which were ever taken in the world. Of this Respect which we seek, out of so many human pleasures, a facile, and a very false, interpretation is that it is the privilege of the rich, and I even knew one poor fellow who forged a cheque and went to gaol in his desire to impress the host of the "Spotted Dog," near Barnard Castle. It was an error in him, as it is in all who so imagine. The rich in their degree fall under this contempt as heavily as any, and there is no wealth that can purchase the true awe which it should be your aim to receive from waiters, serving-wenches, boot-blacks, and publicans. I knew a man once who set out walking from Oxford to Stow-in-the-Wold, from Stow-in-the-Wold to Cheltenham, from Cheltenham to Ledbury, from Ledbury to Hereford, from Hereford to New Rhayader (where the Cobbler lives), and from New Rhayader to the end of the world which lies a little west and north of that place, and all the way he slept rough under hedges and in stacks, or by day in open fields, so terrified was he at the thought of the contempt that awaited him should he pay for a bed. And I knew another man who walked from York to Thirsk, and from Thirsk to Darlington, and from Darlington to Durham, and so on up to the border and over it, and all the way he pretended to be extremely poor so that he might be certain the contempt he received was due to nothing of his own, but to his clothes only: but this was an indifferent way of escaping, for it got him into many fights with miners, and he was arrested by the police in Lanchester; and at Jedburgh, where his money did really fail him, he had to walk all through the night, finding that no one would take in such a tatterdemalion. The thing could be done much more cheaply than that, and much more respectably, and you can acquire with but little practice one of many ways of achieving the full respect of the whole house, even of that proud woman who sits behind glass in front of an enormous ledger; and the first way is this: As you come into the place go straight for the smoking-room, and begin talking of the local sport: and do not talk humbly and tentatively as so many do, but in a loud authoritative tone. You shall insist and lay down the law and fly into a passion if you are contradicted. There is here an objection which will arise in the mind of every niggler and boggler who has in the past very properly been covered with ridicule and become the butt of the waiters and stable-yard, which is, that if one is ignorant of the local sport, there is an end to the business. The objection is ridiculous. Do you suppose that the people whom you hear talking around you are more learned than yourself in the matter? And if they are do you suppose that they are acquainted with your ignorance? Remember that most of them have read far less than you, and that you can draw upon an experience of travel of which they can know nothing; do but make the plunge, practising first in the villages of the Midlands, I will warrant you that in a very little while bold assertion of this kind will carry you through any tap-room or bar-parlour in Britain. I remember once in the holy and secluded village of Washington under the Downs, there came in upon us as we sat in the inn there a man whom I recognised though he did not know me--for a journalist--incapable of understanding the driving of a cow, let alone horses: a prophet, a socialist, a man who knew the trend of things and so forth: a man who had never been outside a town except upon a motor bicycle, upon which snorting beast indeed had he come to this inn. But if he was less than us in so many things he was greater than us in this art of gaining respect in Inns and Hotels. For he sat down, and when they had barely had time to say good day to him he gave us in minutest detail a great run after a fox, a run that never took place. We were fifteen men in the room; none of us were anything like rich enough to hunt, and the lie went through them like an express. This fellow "found" (whatever that may mean) at Gumber Corner, ran right through the combe (which, by the way, is one of those bits of land which have been stolen bodily from the English people), cut down the Sutton Road, across the railway at Coates (and there he showed the cloven hoof, for your liar always takes his hounds across the railway), then all over Egdean, and killed in a field near Wisborough. All this he told, and there was not even a man there to ask him whether all those little dogs and horses swam the Rother or jumped it. He was treated like a god; they tried to make him stop but he would not. He was off to Worthing, where I have no doubt he told some further lies upon the growing of tomatoes under glass, which is the main sport of that district. Similarly, I have no doubt, such a man would talk about boats at King's Lynn, murder with violence at Croydon, duck shooting at Ely, and racing anywhere. Then also if you are in any doubt as to what they want of you, you can always change the scene. Thus fishing is dangerous for even the poor can fish, and the chances are you do not know the names of the animals, and you may be putting salt-water fish into the stream of Lambourne, or talking of salmon upon the Upper Thames. But what is to prevent you putting on a look of distance and marvel, and conjuring up the North Atlantic for them? Hold them with the cold and the fog of the Newfoundland seas, and terrify their simple minds with whales. A second way to attain respect, if you are by nature a silent man, and one which I think is always successful, is to write before you go to bed and leave upon the table a great number of envelopes which you should address to members of the Cabinet, and Jewish money-lenders, dukes, and in general any of the great. It is but slight labour, and for the contents you cannot do better than put into each envelope one of those advertisements which you will find lying about. Then next morning you should gather them up and ask where the post is: but you need not post them, and you need not fear for your bill. Your bill will stand much the same, and your reputation will swell like a sponge. And a third way is to go to the telephone, since there are telephones nowadays, and ring up whoever in the neighbourhood is of the greatest importance. There is no law against it, and when you have the number you have but to ask the servant at the other end whether it is not somebody else's house. But in the meanwhile your night in the place is secure. And a fourth way is to tell them to call you extremely early, and then to get up extremely late. Now why this should have the effect it has I confess I cannot tell. I lay down the rule empirically and from long observation, but I may suggest that perhaps it is the combination of the energy you show in early rising, and of the luxury you show in late rising: for energy and luxury are the two qualities which menials most admire in that governing class to which you flatter yourself you belong. Moreover the strength of will with which you sweep aside their inconvenience, ordering one thing and doing another, is not without its effect, and the stir you have created is of use to you. And the fifth way is to be Strong, to Dominate and to Lead. To be one of the Makers of this world, one of the Builders. To have the more Powerful Will. To arouse in all around you by mere Force of Personality a feeling that they must Obey. But I do not know how this is done. Hilaire Belloc (1908)

Belloc meeting in Amberley, Sussex...

The George and Dragon

The next Belloc meeting will be in Amberley, Sussex on Saturday the 23rd of February. Chris Hare will be giving a presentation on 'Belloc and Sussex', which promises to be an engaging affair. Chris is currently at the forefront of the Folk Song revival in Sussex:(http://www.southdownssociety.org.uk/news/1649.html)

PLEASE NOTE THAT IN ORDER TO ATTEND THIS EVENT YOU MUST E MAIL:

thehilairebellocblog@gmail.com

There will also be a mini bus departing from Clapham in London. Seats will be allocated on a first come, first serve basis.

The talk will begin at 1.30 PM. Some people will be arriving earlier for lunch. IN FACT IF YOU INTEND TO DINE, AND HAVE CONFIRMED THIS WITH ME, YOU MUST ARRIVE AT THE PUB NO LATER THAN 12.30pm. The George and Dragon is a splendid old pub which dates back to the Middle Ages. We will have exclusive use of the function room.The nearest station is Amberley and although one could walk (ten minutes) the road is busy and so a taxi would be preferable (over the bridge in the opposite direction to the village):

Castle Cars: 01903 884444
Cathedral Cars: 01903 889688
MJ Cars: 01903 745414/01798 874321 (6 seater)

For those Bellocians who prefer more 'action' we will be walking/driving into Amberley after the talk. Amberley is an historical Sussex village which boasts many fine buildings and a splendid castle. Chris has kindly offered to give us a walking tour starting at the Castle.

After 'tea' at The Sports Man in Rackham (which has the finest 'pub view' in Sussex) the plan is to descend on the The Bridge pub next to Amberley station, at around 7.00 PM, for some folk music. The Bridge serves good food. Belloc refers to this pub in the West Sussex Drinking Song:


They sell good Beer at Haslemere
And under Guildford Hill.
At Little Cowfold, as I've been told,
A beggar may drink his fill:
There is a good brew in Amberley too,
And by the bridge also;
But the swipes they take in at Washington Inn
Is the very best Beer I know, the very best Beer I know.

With my here it goes, there it goes,
All the fun's before us;
The tipple's aboard and the night is young,
The door's ajar and the Barrel is sprung,
I am singing the best song ever was sung And it has a rousing chorus.

If I were what I never could be,
The master or the squire:
If you gave me the hundred from here to the sea,
Which is more than I desire:
Then all my crops should be barley and hops,
And should my harvest fail I'd sell every rood of mine acres, I would,
For a bellyful of good Ale, a bellyful of good Ale.

With my here etc.

http://www.facebook.com/events/472043169508296/

The Bridge

More on Roman Sussex...

Ganymede & Eagle mosaic at Bignor Roman Villa

This impressive mosaic was the centrepiece of a dining room, or triclinium. It shows the young Trojan prince Ganymede being abducted by the god Zeus (Roman god is Jupiter) to be his cupbearer on Mount Olympus. Zeus has disguised himself as a large eagle.

A short history of the Romans in West Sussex

From the Romans to the Saxons and later, the Normans, Sussex has always been at the sharp end whenever the British Isles have faced invasion from Europe.

Although being invaded is no-one’s cup of tea, in the long run the invasion of Sussex by the Romans in AD 43 and the 367 year Roman occupation of West Sussex was hugely beneficial to the county.

THE ROMAN INVASION OF SUSSEX

Sussex was invaded by the Romans in AD 43 under the command of Titus Flavius Vespasianus, who later became the Emperor Vespasian. It’s not entirely clear where the Romans landed, although it is possible that Chichester Harbour was used.

The Roman invasion in Sussex is sometimes portrayed as a friendly or invited one, but this glosses over the fighting that took place. It’s true that there wasn’t as much bloodshed as in some other parts of Britain, like East Anglia, though.


ROMAN POLITICS

Once the fighting was over the Romans decided the best way of achieving their objectives was to sponsor a local puppet king who already had authority over the people. Think of this as a tactic rather like the Americans are applying at the moment in Iraq and you’ll realise that this probably wasn’t always plain sailing.

Tognidubnus (whose name is sometimes spelt Cogidubnus), one of the leading lights of the Regnenses tribe who lived in Sussex and Surrey was the man for the job. The Romans decided to build a strong garrison to protect their position and they chose Chichester as the site for it.


ROMAN CHICHESTER

Although it is likely that the Regnenses already had some sort of settlement at Chichester, the Romans first beefed up the defences of the town and later set about expanding Chichester’s facilities. They called their town Noviomagus Reginorum.

Unlike many architectural sites, it’s very hard to be sure about the layout of Roman Chichester because the Norman, Medieval, Georgian and modern cities have successively been built on top of the Roman town. The best Roman buildings to have been identified so far were sited around the area immediately north of Chichester’s Market Cross.

There were Roman baths near West Street, buildings which were probably barracks in Chapel Street and in all likelihood a basilica under the site of Chichester Cathedral. There was also an amphitheatre which was excavated and then built over. This is located partly underneath and partly near the Market car park towards Whyke.

One part of Roman Chichester than can easily be seen is The Cogidubnus Stone recording the erection of a temple to Minerva by the Guild of Smiths. This was excavated in 1723 and is now sited on the outside of the Assembly Rooms in North Street, Chichester.


ROMAN VILLAS AND PALACES IN SUSSEX

Sussex has two great Roman sites.

Fishbourne Roman Palace is probably the best preserved, best presented and largest Roman Palace in Britain. Even though a large part of the original Palace and its estate is buried under the village of Fishbourne and may be lost forever, it’s clear that this was a substantial seat of power and the wealth. It is likely that Togidubnus and his successors lived here.

In Roman times the Birdham Channel of Chichester Harbour would have been navigable right up to Fishbourne Creek and so the Palace was well sited to control all the important international traffic within this small corner of the Roman Empire.

Bignor Roman Villa is another fine Roman building, discovered like so many great archaeological sites by accident. It is now a fine museum, although on a smaller scale than Fishbourne. Bignor is really a farmstead.

But there are plenty of other traces of the Romans in Sussex besides these two great Roman buildings.

There are the remains of Roman villas at Angmering, Arundel, Southwick, West Blatchington, Chilgrove and UpMarden. Many other traces of Roman buildings, plus other artefacts have been excavated or noted too.


STANE STREET

The biggest physical mark the Romans left on Sussex is Stane Street – the great, straight road from Chichester to London.

Stane Street is, like the stereotypical Roman Road, unerringly straight. If you stand on the Downs above Gumber Farm north of Slindon and look along Stane Street it points exactly towards the spire of Chichester Cathedral 10 miles away.

Stane Street was part of a highly efficient military machine. There are the remains of posting stations at Hardham near Pulborough and Alfoldean near Horsham which helped to relay messages along this Roman motorway.

Another posting station has been discovered at Iping west of Midhurst on the Roman road from Chichester to Silchester in north Hampshire.


DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE

As Roman rule became more settled, the need for military might to keep the peace became less. And as the Roman Empire grew rich, fat and lazy it forgot that its armies were the thing that had made it great in the first place.

Sussex was a long way from Rome and by 410 when Sussex folk were starting to worry about the threat of the Saxons to Sussex they were told by the Emperor Honorius to fend for themselves. The Romans were too busy coping with the threat to their lands in Italy to worry about a place as remote as Sussex.

By AD 477 Sussex had entered a new era – that of the Saxons.

Chris Hoult

www.westsussex.info