OK Rebecca. You’ve asked for it. That boy was actually called Ian Whittington. He was six years old and his dad was the head gardener. I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP!
Great piece, and I'm pretty sure Thomas Hardy was one of the junior architects who supervised the coffin removals and the stacking up of the headstones. My one little bit of obscure Hardy knowledge is that EM Forster's father (who died before Forster was two) also trained in Sir Arthur Blomfield's office. 'It is one of Life's Little Ironies', wrote Forster in 1956, 'that I should have got to know Mr Hardy and stayed with him at Max Gate, and should never have known my father, seven years his junior.'
This description of St. Pancras' Church is reviving happy memories of my playing a show there in 2014. No one had explained to me the significance of the Hardy Tree when I first saw it, but even so it sure looked momentous. Same with the church, so old and worn and yet someone had looked after it for hundreds of years. What a beautiful jewel of a place. Oh, the gig was nice too.
And Sinead O'Connor played at St. Pancras Old Church too. She sang Nothing Compares 2 U there. What an incredible place.
Had a tour of McCullin’s Tate show by the artist. He was terrific.
Hope you are not blaming little Mikey Watkins in the blue home knit for the breakup of the Fab Four. LOL
OK Rebecca. You’ve asked for it. That boy was actually called Ian Whittington. He was six years old and his dad was the head gardener. I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP!
https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2017/aug/18/beatles-photographed-by-don-mccullin-1968-me-in-the-picture
That is bloody excellent Nick.
Really thrilled you know who it is and that he was not the one responsible for breaking up the band.
Great piece, and I'm pretty sure Thomas Hardy was one of the junior architects who supervised the coffin removals and the stacking up of the headstones. My one little bit of obscure Hardy knowledge is that EM Forster's father (who died before Forster was two) also trained in Sir Arthur Blomfield's office. 'It is one of Life's Little Ironies', wrote Forster in 1956, 'that I should have got to know Mr Hardy and stayed with him at Max Gate, and should never have known my father, seven years his junior.'
That’s FANTASTIC.
You can see why it stuck in my mind.
Great fun playing wheres Wally with the Beatles.
This description of St. Pancras' Church is reviving happy memories of my playing a show there in 2014. No one had explained to me the significance of the Hardy Tree when I first saw it, but even so it sure looked momentous. Same with the church, so old and worn and yet someone had looked after it for hundreds of years. What a beautiful jewel of a place. Oh, the gig was nice too.
Mary Shelley could count in literature too. I hear she wrote a book as dare in a weekend some time ago
The Hardy Tree
We walked to St Pancras
My cousin and me,
To the church, not the station,
To look for a tree.
A tree with a history,
In the churchyard it stands.
From the years when the railway
Was considered and planned.
The dead of St Pancras
Were content, fast asleep,
But the train track arrived
And the shovels went deep.
So bodies got shifted,
Gravestones moved aside,
Space created for trains,
And Victorian pride.
Now a young Thomas Hardy
Was moving these stones.
A job slightly better
Than exhuming the bones.
And rather than storing them
Inside, say a shed,
They were stacked round a tree
Like large slices of bread.
So we walked through the gates
Thinking this won't take long,
But as we looked to our right
We saw something was wrong.
The stones were still there
But no longer the tree.
I looked at my cousin
And she looked at me.
A few logs from the trunk
Stared up from the grass.
We walked back to the church
To find someone to ask.
Through the door on the right
Sat a man in a chair,
"Last September it happened.
It explains it all there."
In a paper the story,
How the tree fell down flat,
A few words from the vicar,
But not only that...
No, as well as the vicar,
An expert suggesting
That Tom Hardy's involvement
Was out of the question.
Something 'bout dates,
Unreliable facts,
Not a tree Hardy knew,
There's no doubt about that.
See, there are stories we hear
Which we want to believe
Until someone shows up
Saying, "Don't be deceived."
Some stories give life,
'Come close, gather round ',
But some, like dead trees
Are mere stumps in the ground.
Is it Yoko in the crowd ?
Yep! 4 Beatles and YO
I've walked past St Pancras Gardens several times without ever stepping inside, must remedy immediately.
Good luck finding a better band name than Dave, Dee, Dozy, Mick and Tich.
a) b) & c) yes please, but especially a). She formed my thinking. I'm on my way.
That tree! What a story.
Heading there as soon as I step off this train from King’s Lynn! Thank you for the reminder!
Great!
Never been here before but I will be now - and I'd always thought the whole Mary Shelley sex in a graveyard was a myth!
It may well be. But she had compelling reasons to be there.