Hooptedoodle #150 – The Mud of Cumbria

Since it was the Contesse’s birthday last Saturday, and also since we never did get a Summer holiday this year (with one thing and another), we took a weekend break at Wetheral, near Carlisle. I haven’t visited Wetheral for about 15 years, but remember it fondly – it is a quiet village (one gets the impression that this is where the money in Carlisle lives), with interesting walks along the valley of the River Eden and blessed with an excellent, independently owned hotel (The Crown) which has great food and even a nice indoor swimming pool (which we used – my son is a very keen swimmer).

Fancy a little holiday home in a quiet village in the North West, for the weekends?

The original plan, to be honest, had been to visit Durham, but Durham was booked solid – certainly everything within our price range – which may be connected with Freshers’ Week at the university. So it was Wetheral, with possibilities for Hadrian’s Wall visits and even the north end of the Lake District (less likely, given the time available) for a little walking. We got the Autumn Special Deal by phoning the hotel direct, which – interestingly – was about 60% of the best price we obtained for the same accommodation through the better known web-based booking sites. Hmmm.

Saturday we walked down the 99 steps from the railway station to the bank of the River Eden, and walked a few miles upstream. Very pleasant scenery – the river runs almost through a gorge at points, and past a man-made island which the monks put there centuries ago to channel salmon into a trap. There is a spectacular railway viaduct (which also carries a footpath to allow you to get to Great Corby, on the opposite bank), and below Corby Castle (which is mostly Victorian in its present state) there is a very impressive man-made cascade down to the river. It must be a remarkable sight in wet weather.

This walk also renewed my acquaintance with the Mud of Cumbria, which made a big impression on me (or possibly it was the other way round) during my 2012 walk along Hadrian’s Wall. I had not forgotten about it, of course, but time softens the memory.

In September 2012 I developed some private theories that the Romans may have had some idea of exploiting the commercial potential of this very special mud – it is composed of very fine silt; in a field it can be bottomless, even if the surface looks quite firm; an innocent looking puddle will suck your boots off and laugh at you as you fall about in the mire; on a stile or on stone steps it has the exact properties of WD40, even in your best Brasher boots (assuming you still have them, after the puddle). Our exposure to it this weekend was minimal, but even so I managed to get some on the boots as I was walking on some rock shelving at the edge of the river, and I was sliding around like a drunk goat on a frozen pond. Somehow, the mud is different in neighbouring Northumberland – I must check if it changes abruptly at the county line. More study is required, with proper samples and slump tests and all that – and much discussion in pubs. I must give this some thought – anyone fancy a mud sampling weekend based around Cumbrian pubs? We could omit the mud-sampling if it seemed appropriate.

Our trip home on Sunday got off to an early start, to allow us time to have a short walk from the Roman Army Museum near Greenhead, up onto the end of the very best section of the Hadrian’s Wall walk – we did a couple of miles along the top of Walltown Crags, just to give my wife a brief taste of the best of what the Wall offers in scenery and walking/scrambling. We’ve been together to Housesteads a few times, but that is very formalised and park-like compared with the Crags.

Foy the Younger on top of Walltown Crags

Sunday lunch at the Twice Brewed Inn was as good as usual (slow-roast pork belly and mustard mash with scallions, ginger ice cream to follow…), then the drive home along the switchback of the A68 was only slightly spoilt by the bikers. It was a nice, dry day, so the Big Boys had all been polishing their nice big bikes and were out in force. I don’t have a problem with bikers, most of them are sensible, thoughtful road users with a better than average understanding of the law and safety, but a proportion of them do seem to feel that somehow they are in some strange kind of war, flying heroic, doomed missions against enemy motorists. The thing that scares me is the possibility of coming round a bend and finding some numpty on a Kawasaki coming at me on my side of the road, well over the speed limit and too excited to think straight. Racing leathers and incontinence knickers. Jesus.

The A68 - hang on to your lunch

In my boyhood I travelled thousands of miles on the pillion of my dad’s bikes (which is why I walk like John Wayne), and I don’t wish to end my account of a super little trip on a grumpy note, but I do not find the sight of a line of bikers in my rear view mirror a comforting one – at least one of them will be forced (by peer pressure?) to squeeze past at the wrong moment, in a silly place. On Sunday there was a moment when one chap decided to overtake me without noticing that I was signalling to overtake some cyclists – a strange oversight for a brotherhood who spend their lives complaining about the lack of vision and thoughtlessness of others.

When I was learning to drive, back in the age of steam, when avoiding running down the man in front with the red flag was part of the knack, I was taught by an ex-Army instructor named Derek. One thing he said to me has always stuck:

The things which cause more accidents than anything else are surprises. If you do something unexpected – travel at the wrong speed for the conditions, turn without signalling, whatever – you are putting complete reliance on other road users’ ability to cope with the situation; if they don’t manage to cope, whether or not you think they should have, the fault is your own for causing the situation in the first place.

Driving lessons

Not exactly earth-shaking logic, but it occurs to me that a minority of the biker fraternity specialise in – take a pride in – doing things which are surprising. Bomb-burst manoeuvres where they overtake someone on both sides at once, overtaking on a blind corner despite double white lines, travelling as fast as physically possible all the time (and in my home area, which has some fine, fast, twisty roads, we also have inconveniences such as people who live here, horses, children on bicycles, deer, etc etc) – none of these help a great deal.

Here’s a chance for someone to score an equaliser by complaining (quite rightly) about the dreadful standard of car-driving on the British roads, which should serve to fuel the war and help greatly. I’m not sure, but I think that if large groups of young men gathered together on a nice Sunday in September, equipped with the most powerful cars they could afford, and travelled in convoy, as fast as possible, up and down the A68, they would stand a very fair chance of being arrested, incontinence knickers and all.

I hope that in the next few days I should get out my wargames table after a long lay-off – if nothing else, I am keen to take some photos to catalogue my ECW collection. With luck, I should have something more relevant to blog about.

Hooptedoodle #133 - Hadrian's Wall - a quick revisit

In September 2012 I walked the entirety of Hadrian's Wall, West to East (which is traditionally the "wrong" way). It was a worthwhile trip, but there were a few minor regrets which caused me to make a mental note to come back another time.

(1) Doing the whole of the Wall - right across England from coast to coast - is an achievement in itself, but, of the six days it took us to do it, the first two (Bowness on Solway, through Carlisle to Banks) and the last two (Chollerford, through Heddon on the Wall and downtown Newcastle to Wallsend) show very little evidence of the wall itself, and are pretty uninspiring really, not least since parts of them have been re-routed by the National Trails people to take them right away from anything vaguely Roman.

(2) The weather was pretty awful for the second half.

(3) To be honest, my two companions really didn't get on very well, which had a lot to do with one of them having failed to prepare properly for the expedition, and thus struggling with blisters and lack of physical condition and slowing everything down. I was cast in the role of reluctant piggy-in-the-middle for much of the trip.

I promised myself I would come back, in a quieter season, with more suitable company, in decent weather, and do the lovely middle section again. This week I did it.

With three old walking buddies, I stayed two nights at the Twice Brewed Inn (which is worth the trip just for the beer and the grub), and on Tuesday we walked from Banks Turret to Steel Rigg, scrambling along the crags for much of the way, and on Wednesday we spent the morning completing the crags, from Housesteads Fort back to Steel Rigg.

Excellent - the weather was clear and actually hot, and it was really most enjoyable. We also won the pub quiz by a Roman mile on the Tuesday night, which may be connected with being the only entrants who were old enough to answer most of the music questions.

Once again, I am humbled by the engineering achievement which the wall represented in its day - or by any standards you care to name, for that matter. You couldn't get one built now, I think.

Walking alongside the River Irthing, which has moved a few hundred metres
sideways from the place where the Romans put a bridge across it

A good day for being a Roman soldier - Foy in the orange jerkin (easily visible
to rescue helicopters - which is a joke) and silly old lucky campaigning hat
(to avoid optical migraines caused by bright sunlight - which is not a joke)

Chester Trip – Preamble

It isn’t Regensburg, but my ECW trip to Chester is on. I’ll be going there with a friend from 1^st to 3^rd December – the hotel is booked, so we’re going. We have both read John Barratt’s excellent book on the Great Siege, so the idea is to have a look at what remains of the Civil War sites, and the odd pub would be all right too.

Chester is not unfamiliar to me; as a child, I used to visit the place – and especially its zoo – but in those days the journey from Liverpool was a bit of an epic – long and tiring. We didn’t have a car (I had a rich Auntie in the Wirral who had a pre-war Vauxhall, but she didn’t really speak to us), so sometimes the journey involved a train from Birkenhead Woodside station (which I think you would struggle to find now), sometimes not, but it always involved a few of those green Crosville buses. It is an attractive city, and it looks the part for an ECW trip, but I am aware that very little of it dates back to the Civil War. For a start, much of the city was destroyed in the siege, and there have been frequent improvements over the years since then. The walls are marvellous, but a substantial part were widened and turned into a promenade for the townspeople in the 18^th Century.

I originally had a picture of a wartime Crosville Guy Arab bus here
- it was pointed out that not only was it too early, but it was probably red.
Here's a proper Bristol Lodekka from the 1950s, with the correct livery of Tilling Green

We’ve made bookings with Ed Abram’s fine Chester Civil War Tours operation – we will definitely be going on the standard tour, and, though the Rowton Moor tour is not officially open so late in the year, we have the offer of going there too if the weather is passable and if the farmer is happy to let us on his fields. Serious walking boots will be taken. There is also an interesting tour of ECW public houses, but we may do that ourselves in the evenings. I was recently walked around the field of Eggmühl by a uniformed fusilier of the 5^th Bavarian infantry regiment from 1809, so being taken around Chester by a Royalist gentleman in full period costume for 1645 will be quite normal.

It would be nice to wander a little further afield – Brereton’s trip up to Mostyn is a possibility, as is a quick look at Nantwich, or Beeston Castle – but the main thing we have to decide is what to do about our 4^th day. Originally, my colleague found he had to be back in Scotland on the 4^th day, but he has subsequently got out of his prior engagement, so an extra day is again available. We could stay on in Chester, of course, but I fancied a trip to Ormskirk – they had a nippy battle there – quick but influential, it effectively finished off the Royalists in Lancashire in the First Civil War apart from the garrisons at Lathom, Greenhalgh and Liverpool. Also, we could have a look for the site of the original Lathom House, pay our respects to poor old Lord Derby, who is interred in the local parish church (in however many separate bits), and – failed trump card! – I have family in Ormskirk who kindly offered hospitality, but, alas, the dates don’t line up and they have other plans! Like many local people must have done in the 1640s when they learned that Rupert or Brereton were coming, they have obviously made quick evacuation arrangements when they heard about our trip. Not a huge problem – we can still go to Ormskirk, or we could go over to Yorkshire and have a look at Marston Moor, or Adwalton (less easy to find), and someone has suggested Pontefract Castle.

Homework

Now that we are definitely going, we can approach the details with a bit more focus.

What fun!

Danube Trip - Vienna Army Museum

This will be the last blog post for this trip. We fly home tomorrow, and today is a shopping and sightseeing day.

We spent yesterday morning at the splendid Heeresgeschichtemuseum at the Arsenal here in Vienna. I saw a lot, and took a lot of pictures, which I shall have to sort out when I get home. The rest of the day was spent walking around the city - we estimate we walked around 12 miles altogether, which should cancel out a few beers.

I was particularly impressed by the collection of vehicles - not a subject I know much about, but they looked good to me. Some of the following date from the post-war army of occupation. Here's just a selection of photos:

The vehicle in which Archduke Franz Ferdinand had an especially bad day in Sarajevo

But is it art? We are not sure what it is, but it's interesting

Carl Hilpert's in Schulerstrasse - one of the great toy and model shops. Specialist in model railways

Oh well - all right then...  supper at Joma

Danube Trip - Well, We're Here #3

Inside the private chapel at the palace of Thurn und Taxis, Regensburg

Trouble at Regensburg (Ratisbon) - then and now

First thing to understand about the history of the City of Regensburg is that it is complicated. This is also the second and third things you need to understand.

In 1809, the city, though lying squarely within the Kingdom of Bavaria, was independent of it. Regensburg was an independent city, and please don’t ask me to explain whose it was. I think I knew at some point yesterday, but now I am not so sure. The Prince of Thurn und Taxis may well have had something to do with it, but much of its independence was based on the fact that it was the seat of the Permanent Diet of the Holy Roman Empire. Confusingly, the suburb on the north side of the Danube, Stadt-am-Hof, at the north end of the vital bridge, was part of Bavaria.

These days the city includes this suburb, and they are both part of the region of Bavaria, within the federal state of Germany. No problem there, then, though there appears to have been a little trouble during the recent bicentennial, in 2009. As part of an extensive programme of events to commemorate the unpleasantness of April 1809, a noted local historian and re-enactor was to ride over the bridge, dressed as Napoleon.

All sorts of difficulties were raised to stop this happening. Some well-intentioned soul with pacifist leanings declared that warfare and (especially) Napoleon were not suitable subjects for commemoration, though the counterargument, that approximately 1/3 of the city was destroyed, would suggest that the event had at the very least been significant.

On health and safety grounds, the Napoleon impersonator was banned from crossing the bridge, in case he and his horse fell off into the river – this despite the fact that there are no recorded cases of horses falling off in the previous 850 years. The ban was overturned, but there was a small retaliation in that a strange inscription appeared on the old gate pillar in Stadt-am-Hof, which, translated, says something like

To commemorate the dreadful day in April 1809,

all due to Napoleon, which befell the people of Regensburg.

2009

This piece of official graffiti caused further anger, since

(1)   defacing an ancient piece of the city in this way is inappropriate, not to mention illegal

(2)   the destruction of the northern suburb where the inscription was placed was entirely caused by Austrian artillery prior to 18^th April, though the French did cause a lot of damage when they attacked the south side of Regensburg on 23^rd April.

(3)   The conflict in the area was initiated by invasion by the Austrian army, not by the French, who were fighting in support of their Bavarian allies.

(4)   Strangely, the local authorities refused to name either the author of the inscription, or the identity of the engraver, in case of reprisals. Hmmm.

We spent much of yesterday touring the city of Regensburg – and a very fine place it is, too – focusing on the key locations connected with the French storming of the place on 23^rd April. I was intrigued to note that the French attacked at a strong part of the walls, though a portion of the walls a short distance away had been demolished.

The celebrated tale of Marshal Lannes seizing the scaling ladder and having to be restrained by his aides (notably Marbot, who else?) would have been unnecessary if the attack had been made closer to the palace of Thurn and Taxis, where the walls had been removed as part of works to the gardens – the French should, in theory, just have walked in if they had attacked a little to the west. There were a good many Bavarians with the attacking troops, but it is likely that they came from other parts of the country – Regensburg was, in any case, not in Bavaria, and the main recruiting centres were Munich, Ingolstadt and Nuremberg.

As before, I’ll include some pictures to give an idea of areas we looked at.

Napoleon was decent enough to get wounded within a few metres of our hotel,
though halfway up a wall is an odd place for it to have happened

One of the few areas where the walls can still be seen - here you see the
medieval wall, with the ancient Roman wall behind it. This is in the area where
the French made their attack. The artillery made a hole in the town
which was rebuilt as a street - Maximilianstrasse

The day after the assault, Napoleon appeared on the balcony at the home of his
friend Karl Theodor von Dalberg, erstwhile Archbishop of Mainz and noted
mover and shaper in the Rheinbund. Ths was to show the townspeople that his wound was trifling

The stone bridge - a horse would probably be safe enough there

The gate pillars at Stadt am Hof, where the mysterious new inscription appeared

We are now in Vienna. If we get to the Heeresgeschichtemuseum I’ll try to put a post together. First priority is to get some homemade apfelstrudel.

I am pleasantly surprised to note that my hotel here in Vienna, when it was a private house, was the birthplace (in 1888) of Max Steiner, the composer, who is maybe best known for the scores to “Gone with the Wind” and “Casablanca”. As a sincere tribute from one Max to another, I have to say, “Play it again, Max!”.

Danube Trip – Well, We’re Here #2

Bavarian Army Museum, Ingolstadt

On Friday morning, we drove to Ingolstadt and visited the Armeemuseum. Excellent. My only slight grumbles were, firstly, that it is staffed by some ladies who do not seem to be very happy to be there, and who cheer themselves up by disciplining the visitors, and, secondly, flash photography is not allowed, and the exhibits are preserved by keeping them in such a gloomy environment that we had difficulty reading the notices on some of the displays. Other than that, the place is terrific value at 3.50 euros for an adult. Remarkable collections of weaponry and models of artillery equipment, and some breathtaking dioramas. The dioramas in particular were simply too much to take in – all done in flats, and sometimes using enhanced perspective, by which I mean that smaller scale figures are used at the back of the model.

The emphasis is, obviously, on the history of the Bavarian army, a subject area where my knowledge is very much limited to the Napoleonic period.

30YW Leather Gun

Uniforms of the Crown Prince and Genl Wrede, 1809

Genl Deroy

Abensberg

We spent the afternoon at Abensberg. The Director of the Stadtmuseum there gave me a fantastic amount of scanned material – old books on the Abensberg battles, plus some marvellous old maps from the Austrian war archives. Then he gave us an extensive guided tour of the battlefield itself. I took a lot of pictures and a lot of notes, which I shall enjoy working through, but most of the landscape-type photos are really not very suitable for including here – although the scene makes sense at the time, when explained, a photo of a tiny church tower in the far distance, obscured by woods and buildings which were not present in 1809 is pretty meaningless. It was a most enjoyable day, though – the Battle of Abensberg is one of the more confused actions of the campaign, and it makes it a lot more understandable to visit the various locations, appreciate the distances involved and see at first hand what the protagonists had to cope with.

I’ve included a selection of pictures, to give an idea of what we saw.

15mm scale model of the town of Abensberg in 1808. I don't know where I'll
store it, but I want one...

The inn at Rohr, where Archduke Charles and Napoleon spent consecutive nights