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Flag of Rutland |
My wife is a subscriber to a monthly
magazine called Country Walking -
yes, that's right, it's a walking magazine. In a recent issue, there was a
little handout sheet - the purpose of the sheet is not really relevant, but the
fact that it has an outline map of UK counties caught my eye, and I spent an
entertaining half hour or so looking at it.
I was brought up in England - in Liverpool,
in fact, which used to be in Lancashire in those days. The Counties were part
of our education. I was interested in the fact that top class cricket in
England was organised by counties (still is), and a lot of history is organised
and recorded by county. Also, I suppose, counties identified the regional
loyalties with which we were raised, and some of the counties have been more or
less at war with each other for centuries. Once it was principally Lancashire vs Yorkshire,
and now it seems to have become Greater London vs The Rest - I claim no
particular expertise here.
Anyway, I had a quick shot at identifying
the counties on the map - some of course are very easy for me, because they
were local and I learned them when I was seven, some are a little trickier (I
was very pleased to get both Nottinghamshire and Shropshire correctly, without
cheating), and then I got a bit shakier on the Herts and Bucks and Wilts bit,
and then I stopped with something of a shock. Just a minute - where's
Middlesex? They've forgotten bloody Middlesex - and then I realised that this
is not counties as we used to understand them - it also includes the more
modern "administrative" counties - there is a correct and complete list of all of
them, of course, and it is a mixture of the ancient counties which have
apparently been there since long ago, and a bunch of other entities which sort
of coalesced out of the ruins of the sad Regions concept (of which more later)
which ran our lives between 1965 and 1996. As a very approximate rule of thumb,
to use a Scottish example, while someone might just have Roxburghshire tattooed on his arm, since he was proud that this was where he came from, no-one will have Borders Region tattooed on anything
apart from maybe the municipal garbage truck (assuming it isn't contracted out
or privatised this week, of course).
So this is all a mixture of really old
things and more modern concepts which gets us into matters of local government
(a phrase which always seems to require a juicy spit at the end, somehow), and
- of course - flaming democracy, which has a lot to answer for, but no matter.
It turns out that Middlesex is sort of
included (replaced, anyway) for most practical purposes in Greater London, so I
can understand that.
I got into problems with the Welsh bit of
the map. When I was a kid, since Liverpool was traditionally the unofficial
capital of North Wales, I had a lot of Welsh friends, and I used to go cycling
and hillwalking in Wales, and spend holidays there. Of course, the counties I
used to visit were Caernarvonshire, Cardiganshire, Pembroke - all that. All
long gone, and replaced by Dyfed, Powys, Clwyd and so on. These are ancient
names, with a nobility of their own, and probably have more traditional
gravitas than the names I grew up with - I'm not sure how the boundaries line
up, though, and I'm not sure if anyone has Dyfed
tattoed on his arm. I'll take that in the spirit of positive change, and leave
any Welsh readers to dispute the matter.
I was brought up to know that Rutland was
the smallest of the British counties. I thought it had probably been a casualty
of Regionalisation, and I was faintly surprised (and pleased) to see that it
still appears on the map - at number 35 - and it is pretty small, right enough.
But then I observed that Clackmannanshire (85) looks even smaller, so maybe
Rutland was only the smallest English
county, or maybe it depends on how you measure it. [Being a tedious fellow, I
checked - Clackmannan has less land area than Rutland, but rather more
residents].
At this point, I was having to face up to
the fact that the organisation of the UK is one of those subjects I choose not
to think much about, and just hope it doesn't come up in the pub quiz (in which
respect it is similar to topics like the geography of what used to be the USSR,
popular music after 1985 and the cast of East
Enders - all dark areas for me).
I like the traditional names - while
accepting that everything must have once replaced something even older, I was
pleased when reading about the Covenanters and their army that the regiments
were aligned with the places they were raised - places with emotive names like
Clydesdale, Teviotdale and The Merse - these sound like real places, which someone would be proud to have as a birthplace - there was not a Borders Region
regiment, for example.
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Fake Heraldry - the Arms of Borders Region, circa 1970s - a salmon for the Tweed, a ram's head for someone else. All bollocks - all on the ratepayers' bill |
A quick snipe at The Regions, then.
Obviously Regionalisation was around for 30 years or so, and wasn't such a
stupid flash in the pan as it felt at the time. I'm sure some wonderful work was
done, and lives were improved - especially the lives of people who gained new,
imposing job titles, with salaries to match. Some of the changes which were
made in 1965 and 1974 in the interests of Regionalisation seem to have been
carried out by some idiot bureaucrat armed with an official pencil and no conception at
all of history or anything else. I recall that some towns moved between Lancs
and Yorks, for example, which is an astonishing thing to do to people who had
played cricket against each other, stolen sheep and protected their daughters from each other for
centuries. Someone tried (unsuccessfully) to give Fife a new name - or include
it in some inappropriate new area - I am delighted to say I can't remember the
details. Previous mention of Clackmannanshire reminds me that for a while it
disappeared into the wonderfully named Central
Region. Now there's poetry - something to be proud of. We are the boys from
Central. Hmmm. It's a bit like calling a region Up a Bit, and to the Left. Anyway, we seem to have recovered from
that dark period.
Now I think about it, what happened to SELNEC (South-East Lancs and North-East Cheshire)?
Was that just an early mock-up for Greater Manchester, or did some erk actually
think this was a good name? It's a relief, in a way, to see that lack of soul
and imagination is nothing new.
By the way, I now live in East Lothian. There
was an East Lothian regiment with the Covenanters in 1643 (the colonel was
Ralph Hepburn, who was a neighbour of mine from Waughton), but for many years
the county was called Haddingtonshire. Hardly anyone knows this now - even in
these parts - but old maps of parish boundaries and old regimental photos prove
that it mattered to someone once.
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Parishes |
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Haddingtonshire Rifle Volunteers - 1860s |
Anyway, I thought I would share with you
the little map, so you can play spot the county - or I suppose you could even
colour it in if you have your crayons handy. Personally, I never go anywhere
without my crayons if I can help it.