Shiver me timbers

The Ghosts of Lynn

Goodnight, sweet prince,

And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!

Hamlet

 Act 5, Scene 2

The town of Lynn, once Bishop's Lynn and then, thanks to Henry VIII, King's Lynn, might possibly be related to Dublin and Lincoln, through their connection with pools of water, which may have been used to collect salt. It probably isn't related to Linford Christie, Gary Winston Lineker, my old cock linnet, or Der Lindenbaum, 

Am Brunnen vor dem Tore,

Da steht ein Lindenbaum;

Ich träumt’ in seinem Schatten 

So manchen süssen Traum,

But those are other stories.....  What you may be surprised to know is that there is a very plausible connection to William Shakespeare, probable author of such witticisms as:

We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.

The Tempest 

Act 4, Scene 1

And what, I hear you cry, is this? The Swan of Avon, washed up on the banks of the Great Ouse?

Sweet Swan of Auon! what a sight it were

To see thee in our waters yet appeare,

And make those flights vpon the bankes of Thames,

That so did take Eliza, and our Iames!

Ben Jonson

Yes, well, the likelihood is giant. And its footprint is in King Street, in St George’s Guildhall, which is owned by the National Trust and managed by King’s Lynn Borough Council and which is now confirmed to be the oldest working theatre space in the country.....

Until recently the interior of St George's Guildhall looked like this:

Currently, it looks like this:

And you may visit it any day (except Sundays) until August 31st to see and hear about the history of the building (built in 1419 and containing the largest area of 15th century timber floor in the country).  

So, what's this got to do with his Bardship, you moan? Well, this is the thing. Tim FitzHigham, Creative Director of the archaeological project to restore the theatre, has this to say: These are the boards used by Shakespeare’s company during the plague closures of 1592/3, making it a site of international cultural significance.....

And for proof we have....?  Well, this is what the Guildhall's website has to say:

There has been a long tradition that Shakespeare played at the Guildhall in King’s Lynn. People in King’s Lynn were told this by their parents who were told this by their parents and grandparents. This is not new. For example, in 1766 the pub next to the Guildhall (now called Shakespeare House) was named the Shakespeare Pub and had a picture of Shakespeare on the front of it to reflect these links. There are several things which support the oral tradition of the town. In 1592/3 the company associated with Shakespeare, the Earl of Pembroke’s Men, were paid to play in King’s Lynn when the theatres in London were shut due to the plague. At this time Shakespeare was an actor as well as a writer according to a work by Robert Greene of 1954 [1594?   Ed.] calling Shakespeare an ‘upstart crow’ [Not to be confused with D Mitchell's creepy smug TV stuff.  Ed].

Shakespeare’s comedian Robert Armin [Not to be confused with his grate nuncle, Idi.  Ed]  was born in King’s Lynn one street from the theatre..... Armin was a very close collaborator of Shakespeare’s and was the first person to play many of the most famous comedic roles Shakespeare created ['Til Deaf us do part; Dad's Barmy; Faulty Powers; et al. Ed]. Documents from Shakespeare’s lifetime reference an event that occurred in the theatre in ‘Linn, Norfolk’ which is said to have inspired Shakespeare to write part of the plot of Hamlet....

So, it is more than a random chance that Shakespeare actually ducked through this doorway (notwithstanding the semblance that they could be bricked up - Crollalanza era un mago!):

And maybe even this one:

Peered out of this window:

Stepped through this passageway:

And took the air (or had a pipe) in this courtyard:

Which includes an Art Gallery in memory of Lord Fermoy, whose wife provided for the until recent theatre seating, thereby ensuring the survival of the building through the latter part of the twentieth century and into the current secolo..... 

If it be now, ’tis not to come: if it be not to come, it will be now: if it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all.

Hamlet

Act 5, Scene 2

All the world's a stage

And all the men and women merely players.

They have their exits and their entrances; 

And one man in his time plays many parts.

As You Like It

Act 2, Scene 7

So, what else was there in Lynn 400 or so years ago?

The Minster and Priory Church of St Margaret, St Mary Magdalene and all the Virgin Saints was founded as a Benedictine Priory in 1101 by Herbert de Losinga, the first Bishop of Norwich. For 400 years it was the monks’ home as well as the Parish Church for the town. It was always known as St Margaret’s and would not have been very different, despite efforts by H8 [You mean Henery the Eighth; not hate, surely?  Ed] in Shakespeare's time from what we see now:  

I am one who loved not wisely but too well.

Othello

Act 5, Scene 2

[No.... that's a different story....Ed.]

So we also have the largest chapel-of-ease in England, St Nicholas Chapel (rebuilt between 1380 and 1410 but currently closed because of a problem with one of the roof beams [Elf and Safety gone mad?  Ed]) which would have been architecturally (if not from a glassware point of view) much as it is now.

Another building that was definitely here in the time of WS, is the Red Mount Chapel. It was built in 1485 as a wayside chapel for pilgrims landing at King's Lynn; a place to stop and pray before undertaking the overland journey to Walsingham, or to pray before leaving England after a visit to the shrine. It was/is known as the Chapel of Our Lady of the Mount, and is to be found in The Walks.

Then, although wrecked and suppressed (in 1538) by Enery and his 'enchpeople there would have been at least the Tower of the Greyfriars' Priory:

And while in the late 16th century the Trinity Guildhall housed a prison, the finely windowed first floor would have been there.....

And below stairs in several of the riverside buildings there were cellars which originally may have had direct access to the quayside or even to the river with the potential for rewarding import/export businesses.....

And all compacted into a relatively small area alongside the Great Ouse, making Lynn one of the most important ports in England.  From the 13th century Lynn had been a part of the Hanseatic League, and, though trade had declined by Shakespeare's time it was (and still is) an active port.

With narrow lanes leading to the riverside.

Out, out brief candle!

Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

Macbeth

Act 5, Scene 5

Back in the undercroft of the St George's Guildhall, it isn't hard to sense the spirit of Crollalanza in the blind arches and niches, in the ancient timbers and hand-made bricks. Is that the ghost of Banquo?

Prithee, see there. Behold, look! How say you?

Macbeth

Act 3, scene 4

Or does King Hamlet lie there?

Whither wilt thou lead me? Speak. I’ll go no further.

Hamlet

Act 1, scene 5

So....  What does this add up to?  Does it matter?  Well, in my 'umble opinion, yes it does.  We need to recognise our past and to learn from it.  Without history and heritage we are lesser creatures, with little reference by which to gauge our actions. Whether William Shakespeare himself ever actually drew breath in Lynn is, in itself, not necessarily going to alter what we do or think, but to register the continuity of human endeavour and to recognise the achievements, and the mistakes, of our forebears, inevitably makes us richer in many ways.  And had St George's Guildhall been pulled down and turned into a car showroom, for example, we would all be, in some ways, poorer.

Is this nothing?

Why then the world and all that’s in’t is nothing:

The covering sky is nothing, Bohemia nothing,

My wife is nothing, nor nothing have these nothings,

If this be nothing.

Leontes

The Winter's Tale

 Act 1, Scene 2

So, if you can get to see the exposed timbers and be guided round St George's Guildhall you won't regret it. Then, perhaps in 2028, we will all be able to enjoy performances in the restored oldest working theatre in England.  

The rest [For now. Ed] is silence.

Hamlet 

Act 5, Scene 2

*****

For further information, please see:

https://stgeorgesguildhall.com/heritage/

Dedicato alla memoria della nonna di CJS 

(ed anche a CJS stessa)

A Full Nelson

Missa in Angustiis

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

 

I am in All Saints, Burnham Thorpe, the church where Admiral Lord Nelson’s father, Edmund, was rector from 1755 to 1803.  Joseph Haydn’s

Mass in D Minor, originally entitled Missa in Angustiis (Mass for Troubled Times) but better known as the Nelson Mass, is raising the rafters.  

 

First performed in Eisenstadt, where Haydn was under the patronage of the Esterházy family, in September 1798; Austria was under threat from the French and had lost four major battles against Napoleon in a year.  What Haydn did not know, however, when completing the mass, was that on August 1^st of that year the French Navy had been thrashed by Rear-Admiral Horatio Nelson and his jolly tars in Aboukir Bay, at the mouth of the Nile.  Then, when in 1800 Nelson and Lady Hamilton visited the Esterházy Palace, they probably heard this mass, and certainly met Haydn, and the appellation Nelson Mass was adopted.

 

Kyrie, eleison - Lord, have mercy

 

Earlier that week we were 288 steps, 66 metres (217 feet), above ground level atop the West Tower of Ely Cathedral.  Completed in 1322 the tower has magnificent views over the city and across the watery fenland that surrounds us.

Following an incident in August 2015, when two Base Jumpers leapt from the tower and parachuted onto Palace Green, we had to leave our climbing gear below, and so were unencumbered above the Cathedral roof.  

But, Lord have mercy! One does feel exposed. The clouds are within reach and heaven is only just above our heads.  The experience is breathtaking.  Uplifting.  You can only have respect for those who constructed this landmark.

 

Within the glorious nave below, for some reason, perhaps a ghostly premonition of his imminent death, Tom Lehrer’s Vatican Rag comes to mind as I  

 

get down on [my] knees,
Fiddle with [my] rosaries,
Bow [my] head with great respect,
And genuflect, genuflect, genuflect!

 

Is that sacrilegious?  I know not....  Just thinking of those 288 steps – and Lehrer:

 

Do whatever steps you want if
You have cleared them with the Pontiff.
Everybody say his own
Kyrie eleison,
Doin' the Vatican Rag.

 

 

Gloria in excelsis Deo – Glory to God in the Highest

 

I move from minor to major, from allegro moderato to allegro.  Oh lord, I beseech thee to take away my guilt.  And back home in Snettisham I rise with the sun and celebrate the glory of the world, rejoicing in the beauty of the morning.  Although I have no faith (mea culpa, mea culpa), I celebrate the light of the world, and am increasingly moved by and fond of our country churches,  St Mary’s Snettisham being a prime example. It was here, two years ago, that I was privileged to be asked to be official photographer for two concerts arranged by Music in Country Churches, one of which was visited by its Patron, King Charles.  

 

Since 1989, Music in Country Churches has arranged concerts in over 60 country churches and made donations of more than £600,000 to the churches that have hosted its concerts. It now regularly holds concerts in 14 counties. The King has taken a keen interest in the Charity and the causes it supports, and often attends concerts, such as that held in Snettisham in 2023 and at St Mary the Virgin, Wiveton on Tuesday, July 22^nd this year.

 

Which brings to mind Van Morrison, of course..... 

 

G.L.O.R.I.A. (Gloria)
G.L.O.R.I.A. (Gloria)
I'm wanna shout it ev'ry night (Gloria)
I'm wanna shout it ev'ry day (Gloria)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, all right

 

 

Credo – I believe

 

But, sadly, I don’t.... believe that is, but I am happy that others do, and so, in D major and with allegro spirits I make my way, again kindly invited to be the official photographer, to another evening of fine music organised by Music in Country Churches.  This is at the early fourteenth century Church of St Mary the Virgin overlooking the Glaven valley, towards Cley, at Wiveton.

 

A summer’s evening in rural Norfolk.  Possible showers.  Floral frocks and lightweight suits.

Pol Roger and quails’ eggs at the reception.  Security in force.  The people line towards the country church.  A big, black, German car arrives.  

A man, carrying his allotted years with confidence in a sharp blue suit, alights.  He shakes various hands, and speaks, smiling.  

He approaches a group of local onlookers.  He pats a dog, then returns to the planned itinerary, escorted, via handshakes and pleasantries.  A baby extends to him her pink blanket.  He generously declines the offertory, and enters the church, the packed pews attendant in their standing. Musicians at the ready.  Blue and yellow light falling from the high windows.

 

Sanctus – Holy or Sacred

 

An introduction to the purpose of this concert from chairman Matthew Rice. The initial success of MICC was due to the friendship between its founder, Ruth, Lady Fermoy, then 80 years young, and its main sponsor Sebastian Walker. After her brother Sebastian’s untimely death in 1991, Mirabel Cecil became a Trustee of Music in Country Churches. When the much-loved Lady Fermoy died in 1993, her grand-daughter, Lady Jane Fellowes, became Chairman until 2000. Now the Charity is fortunate to have the artist and author Matthew Rice, himself a pianist, as Chairman.  Mirabel Cecil died in 2024, and this concert is in part a celebration of her life.  

 

An introduction to the music from the conductor, internationally recognised as a leading interpreter of Italian baroque music, Adrian Chandler, 

unable to play his violin having recently suffered a fall in the Brecon Beacons.  Crossing Borders – eighteenth century travels across the Italian border.  The music strikes up.  

Hailed by the Telegraph as one of Britain’s best-loved chamber orchestras, La Serenissima play vigorous music from baroque Italy, and associated disciplines. Brescianello, Vivaldi. Telemann.  International soloist Tabea Debus

trills more notes from a recorder than seem possible in Ignazio Siber’s Sonata for Recorder and Continuo No 8. 

Then, all rise. It is the interval: 

more Pol Roger by the apple trees. Introductions for some of the great and the good, 

and smiles in the summer evening, then back in the church, more Vivaldi and Telemann. In fine much applause, more handshakes, and the great black car rolls away into the sacred lipstick sunset....  Adagio, adagio.....

 

Benedictus - Blessed

 

And so, in D minor, and allegretto, to blessed Burnham Thorpe, the next day, where Nigel Short 

conducts his virtuosic award-winning choir Tenebrae, and the Music in Country Churches Chorus, accompanied by acclaimed violinist and conductor Steve Bingham’s Ad Hoc Sinfonia Strings in a spirited rendering of the Nelson Mass, or Mass for Troubled Times. 

And, though a tranquil evening in rural Norfolk is far removed from the turbulence of the troubled world, there are pertinent reminders of difficult times in the church which dates from the 13th century and which has the unique right to fly the white ensign, the official flag of the Royal Navy, from its tower. Timbers from Nelson's flagship, the HMS Victory, were donated by The Admiralty and were used to build the altar, lectern, and rood screen. 

And filling the heavens, hanging at the west end of the nave are flags flown by HMS Nelson, and one used by HMS Indomitable at the Battle of Jutland. 

 

Agnus Dei – the Lamb of God

 

So, from D major to G major, initially adagio, then back to D major and vivace, the mass ends with Dona nobis pacem – grant us peace – splendidly filling the luminous interior of the church, the trumpets rising above the thunderous timpani as the combined choirs fill the air with a plea for peace.  

It is triumphant, and, despite the title, it is optimistic.  There is something joyous about the sound as it rolls around the church walls and out into the evening sunshine, as the performers and congregation stroll down the lane to the Church Hall for refreshment en plein air, 

smiles catching the sun as it begins to cast long shadows.

 

As we leave the village, my hero, Horatio Nelson, waves his arm and winks his eye in my mind, living beyond his days.  It has been glorious; victorious....  And we pray for peace, the image of a lamb so innocent and vulnerable and right.  And the opening line of Twelfth Night comes to mind....

 

Enter Orsino, Duke of Illyria, Curio, and other Lords,
[with Musicians playing.]

ORSINO 
 If music be the food of love, play on.

 

If only.....

 

 

May the Great God whom I worship Grant to my Country and for the benefit of Europe in General a great and Glorious Victory.....  For myself individually I commit my Life to Him Who made me.....

 

Amen.  Amen.  Amen.

 

Horatio Nelson

October 21 1805

With many thanks to Dr Philip Burnett (Director of MICC) who invited me and to the others who made it all possible.