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Saturday, 21 December 2019

Carols at Christmas: " All broad and bright rises th' Eternal Morning Star"


King's College Chapel Window, Cambridge

Music by Charles Gounod, lyrics by Henry F.. Chorley


"Though poor be the chamber
Come here, come and adore:
Lo the Lord of Heaven
Hath to mortals given,
Life for evermore…life for evermore…life for evermore.

Wind to the cedars proclaim the joyful story:
Wave of the sea, the tidings bear afar;
The Night is gone! behold in all its glory,
All broad and bright rises th' Eternal Morning Star."







I first came across this Victorian carol in an old children's novel , The Gentle Shadows by Kathleen Wallace.  Published in 1947, it tells how Vicky, a lonely eleven year old, is befriended by an ebullient unconventional family, just returned from overseas, moving into an old Dutch-style house* in time for the first postwar Christmas of 1945.

Dutch-gabled houses, Topsham, Devon

 She joins the Marshalls hunting for furniture in sale-rooms and junk shops, and making home-made decorations and presents, when shop goods are still scarce and everything was rationed.

"Bunches of holly hung in the greengrocers' doors, Christmas-trees leaned against the windows from the pavements outside, and there was a brave attempt with cotton-wool and some tinsel and red paper, to make the shop windows look decorated.  There were no turkeys dangling from hooks at the butchers' shops and only very makeshift toys in the shops where you might expect to find them;…"  but there were still carol singers and plenty of music.

Carol Singers, collage, Shadwell Local History Society 

When the family join the carol singers, they include another Victorian composition, "Like Silver Lamps in a distant shrine, The Stars are sparkling bright",  as well as regular favourites such as "I saw Three Ships come Sailing by , The Holly and the Ivy, and The Twelve Days of Christmas.  The story concludes through Christmas Day  and homecoming celebrations for their soldier son returned from Burma, with his wife and new baby, all shared with friends and neighbours, and some "gentle shadows" from the past.


"Like silver lamps"


Kathleen Wallace (1890-1958) is little remembered now, but was a popular poet and novelist in the 1930s and '40s.  Daughter of  William Montgomery Coates*, Bursar of Queens' College, she grew up in Cambridge and graduated from Girton in 1914. Her twin sister died as a baby, and her brother was killed in action in 1915; she  expressed her grief in her war poems, Lost City Verses, published in 1918.  She married Major James H. Wallace of the Canadian Mounted Rifles in 1917 and brought up their four sons. The family lived in China for seven years, and she only began writing novels after they returned in 1927, setting her first novel  in China.

Through the '30s and '40s she wrote many novels and children's stories, including  fictional  studies of Mary Kingsley and the Brontes: (in The Prize Essay, two schoolgirls find themselves visiting the Haworth household, just as the "gentle shadows" are welcomed by the Marshall family). Although out of fashion now, elements of her writing have been praised as 'masterly', and her poems are included in Cambridge Poets of the Great War, Michael Copp's anthology, of 2001.

 "The shadows that people this house are very gentle ones."  Charlotte Yonge, 1860

*(see millroadcemetery.org.uk/coates-aileen-montgomery)

Monday, 2 December 2019

December beginnings: "far into the golden sea"

 "  'Good-bye',  they were all crying. 'Good-bye, Peter. Good-bye, good-bye.'  And he meant to call out 'Good-bye' again to all of them,  but the lump in his throat choked the cry to no more than a squeak.
'Good-bye, Peter,' they were calling still; and clearly came after him the voice of old Turlough, 'Peter, come home soon with your pockets full of the Spanish gold.'  "

The Golden Ocean    Patrick O'Brian, 1956.


HMS Centurion in action, (based on Lt. Piercy Brett's drawing c. 1747),     Samuel Scott  © National Maritime Museum Greenwich

Like so many great maritime adventures  - Moby Dick, Treasure Island, Two Years before the Mast, Sailing Alone around the World, and O'Brian's Master and Commander series - most of these narratives  begin ashore, and it is some time before the hero actually sets sets sail.  Even before the real adventure begins, young  Peter Palafox has to sail from Cork up the English Channel to Spithead:

"The steady northeaster sang in the brig's taut rigging,; the sun came out low under the clouds, lighting the green of the land with an extraordinary radiance…..the wind was blowing across and somewhat against the tide and a little away out from the land was a line of rough water, chopped up on the invisible swell from the Atlantic: when they crossed cross haven, now a sprinkling of while on the loom of the land, the Mary Rose entered this zone of cross forces and began to grow lively.  In an inquisitive manner she pointed her bowsprit up to the sky , then brought it down to explore the green depths below, and her round bows went thump on the sea."  (The Golden Ocean, chapter III).

 Here Peter joins HMS Centurion, a 60-gun ship of the line, as a new midshipman, to sail under Commodore Anson on a gruelling journey around the world, from 1740-1744,  and O'Brian tells this story from the midshipmen's point of view.
      
Commodore George Anson, later Lord Anson  c. 1744-5,   unknown artist  © NMM
Sealord Sir John Norris remembered Anson as a midshipman, or "snotty" (perhaps too outspoken?) and refused many of his requests for crew and supplies.

Anson's secret orders, finally delivered in June 1740, were to sail into the South Pacific and harry the Spanish ports and shipping there, leading a squadron of five men-of-war and one store ship.  But the "secret" expedition was by now known to all,  and sailing was delayed yet more months before setting out ill manned (untrained marines and frail and ailing Chelsea Pensioners were embarked instead of an regiment of infantry), and Anson was constantly balked in his efforts to equip the ships properly.

The squadron left St. Helen's on 18 September 1740, but their voyage starting so late in the year was beset by problems: shipwreck, contrary winds blowing them off course, unprecedented storms and lightning, frostbite rounding Cape Horn in the winter,  tropical fevers and the dreadful affliction of scurvy leaving the crews too weak to rig the sails, or raise the anchor, and the ships were frequently separated with few navigational aids in uncharted seas.  Some ships were lost at sea, the Wager was shipwrecked off Patagonia and only a handful returned to England, the Tryal fell to pieces and the Gloucester had to be burnt as it was sinking with seven feet of water in it.


Captain, (later Admiral) Keppel, here portrayed by Reynolds as an Apollo, while a midshipman on the Centurion lost his hair and teeth from scurvy, but huge numbers died from it.  
Joshua Reynolds, c.1760  © Maritime Museums Greenwich

Missing the prize Spanish bullion ship off Acapulco, Anson desperately sailed west to Canton and safety.  Yet by seamanship and force of character, with only the Centurion and a depleted crew, Anson finally managed to capture the great Spanish galleon, Nuestra SeƱora de Covadonga off Manila, returning to England via Cape of Good Hope, with a prize of 1,313,843 pieces of eight plus silver and plate ( 30 wagon loads were delivered to the Tower of London for safekeeping in July 1744).

Engraving of the capture in ship's chaplain Richard Walter's account, 1748; the smaller Centurion is on the right.  © British Library

It is also notable that several future Admirals served under Anson during this voyage. Captain Saumarez  later died young in action off Finisterre, but produced the design for regulation naval officers' uniform.  Charles Saunders, Anson's  lieutenant in command of the sloop, Tryal, as Vice-Admiral in 1759, supported General Wolfe's daring night-time assault on the cliffs at Quebec, bringing a fleet of troopships silently up the dark waters of the St. Lawrence river; (one of his navigators was a certain James Cook.)

                     Commodore Charles Saunders,  Richard Brompton © Royal Naval College Greenwich

And a midshipman on the ill-starred Wager, was one John Byron, later Admiral, who discovered the Gilbert & Ellis Islands and was known as 'foul weather Jack'.  Shipwrecked on the coast of Patagonia, he was one of the few to survive starvation and mutiny and imprisonment, reaching England  several years later in 1746.  His account of his travels inspired his  famous grandson,  Lord George Byron, in his poem Don Juan.

Anson was always happiest at sea, rather than behind an Admiralty desk, but as well as training up fine seaman on his ships, he brought in many naval reforms after the experiences of his men during their epic round the world voyage, which had lastedthree years and nine months.
…"though prudence, intrepidity, and perseverance united are not exempted from the blows of adverse fortune, yet in a long series of transactions they usually rise superior to its power, and in the end rarely fail of proving successful."  So Richard Walter the chaplain concludes his account of Anson's voyage, published in 1748.

See  The Unknown Shore  P. O'Brian 1955
The Prize of All the Oceans  Glyn Williams, 1999
Lord Anson's Voyage Round the World  Richard Walter 1748, abridged ed. S.W.C.Pack 1947