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The Guardian
6 days ago
- General
- The Guardian
Country diary: You could tell a story of England in this church alone
A sign in the layby boldly declares: 'The world's oldest wooden church, open today.' Just beyond, beneath an arching yew, is St Andrew's Church in Greensted, its architecture a historical mosaic, a seemingly mismatched patchwork that forms a striking whole. People have been worshipping here for at least 1,300 years. In the 1960s, archaeologists uncovered the impression of two wooden buildings, potentially built in the late sixth or early seventh century, when Christianity was taking root in the region. But it is the palisade nave that has earned the church its remarkable claim. A copse of 51 split oaks forms the central body of the church, constructed around 1060 during the reign of Edward the Confessor, and at one time adorned with nothing but a thatched roof. An eag-thyrel, an eye hole, which allowed the priest to see outside activity – vital during the ninth-century Danish invasions – and a niche, potentially to hold holy water, would have cast the only thin beams of natural light across the soil floor. All other illumination would have been provided by lamps, torch marks scarring the timbers. Over time, transformative restorations took place, giving it the patchwork look: flint remains indicate a chancel built by the Normans; the current brick one was built by the Tudors, along with a tiled roof. The Stuarts added the white tower in Essex clapboard style, while the Victorians rejuvenated rotting timbers and preserved the building for future generations. And the stories continue in the details: the beam etched with the face of Saint Edmund, king of East Anglia, whose body briefly rested here on route to Bury St Edmunds; the 12th-century crusader's grave whose stone tomb hints at a heroic status; the 1839 entry in the marriage register of one of the Tolpuddle Martyrs, who held tenancies here before emigrating to Canada. The church is still in use today; services are held every Sunday, as well as marriages and baptisms. While it and its grounds are beautiful, it is the oaks that capture the attention. Each is individual in size and character, time-weathered and aged to black. They have witnessed Viking raids, the decline of paganism, medieval pilgrimages, war, the Reformation and the plague. Centuries held in knot and burr, they remain rooted in Essex's past and present. Under the Changing Skies: The Best of the Guardian's Country Diary, 2018-2024 is published by Guardian Faber; order at and get a 15% discount
Spectator
30-07-2025
- Politics
- Spectator
The power of wax seals has never waned
In our electronic age it hardly comes as a surprise that Pat MacFadden's Cabinet Office intends to do away with the use of seals on most official documents, such as grants of patents to inventors. Old-fashioned wax seals, hanging from the bottom of parchment documents, may be seen as cumbersome, but most sealings nowadays consist of an embossed impression on a thin wax wafer. I used to seal documents myself when I occupied the ancient office of 'Registrary' in my Cambridge college. Most memorable was the sale of land the college had owned in Rickmansworth since the 16th century – by now a muddy private road thought too costly to maintain. And last week, when the name of a new Chancellor of Cambridge was proclaimed, we were told that 'in evidence of which we have caused these our Letters Patent to be created, and the Common Seal of said University to be affixed to them'. Sealing these documents conveyed authenticity, but also conferred solemnity. Four thousand years ago, any Babylonian worth his salt carried a small cylinder seal with which he could certify valuable packages and documents. In England, the custom of officially sealing documents can be traced back beyond 1066, to the reign of Edward the Confessor, so it is appropriate to hesitate before dismissively approving the abandonment of seals. Abolition will not be total. There are certain documents which will still require a proper royal seal, such as letters patent creating peers of the realm. Here colour coding comes into play. Those seals are green. Documents concerning the royal family have blue seals. The appointment of bishops merits a vermilion seal, and red is the colour of most full-scale sealings using melted beeswax (or artificial substitutes). Royal seals are magnificent double-sided objects; the matrix from which the impression is made is a closeable metal box, and they hang from the document rather than being stamped upon it. They are symbols of power and are designed to impress. A real lumpy wax seal issued by sovereign authority was not usually a free gift. Medieval Italian cities that begged for privileges from the Holy Roman Emperor had to pay handsomely for whatever sealed documents they managed to obtain, leaving them disgruntled and rebellious. Churning out mountains of sealed documents was a valuable money-spinner for the medieval papacy. Clients paid well above the already substantial cost of producing a handwritten document on expensive, good quality parchment, and the wax used in the seal was not cheap. To acquire the best wax it was necessary to turn to lands beyond the authority of popes and emperors – to Muslim North Africa and Mongol Crimea, where Venetian and Genoese merchants made fat profits exporting blocks of beeswax to Europe. Most of it was dispersed into the atmosphere as candle wax (smelly tallow being impermissible in churches), but much of the rest survives as wax seals appended to charters. Fleeing from England in 1688, following a disastrous reign and William of Orange's invasion, King James II supposedly dropped the royal seal into the mud of the Thames so that his rival could not gain control of it. He understood better than Pat MacFadden that wax seals are, and always have been, the ultimate guarantee of authority.
Daily Mirror
09-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Mirror
93 phalluses and well-hung horses - the Bayeux Tapestry decoded
The mysteries of the propaganda and porn of England's most important historical relic show the embroidered tale of William's invasion was just as important in Anglo French relations in 1066 as it is now The Bayeux Tapestry is coming home for the first time in 900 years – where experts believe it was made in the first place, as a piece of medieval propaganda by Kent needleworkers with a saucy sense of humour. Nearly 70m long and 50cm tall, the wool-embroidered fragile linen cloth is a woven story of the events leading up to the Norman Conquest of England in 1066 – but history, as we know, belongs to the victors. In the spring of that year, the King of England Edward the Confessor had died, leaving his country in political turmoil. Into the breach stepped William, Duke of Normandy, who had almost certainly been promised the crown by his first cousin once removed, Edward. But Harold, who was the son of the real power behind the English throne, Godwine, Earl of Wessex, took it for his own, despite having sworn an oath of support to William. It was for this reason that William's ruthless Norman invasion fleet crossed the English Channel and decisively trounced King Harold II - slaughtering thousands on a hilltop near Hastings, in the fading autumn light of October 14, 1066. That date – which is etched into every schoolchild's mind – changed the course of history for England. Even now, 900 years later, the 11th century tapestry is the most iconic image of its time. 'It tells the story of probably the most important event in English history, a massive transformation in society, culture and economy in England,' explains Dr Dave Musgrove, content director of BBC History Magazine and the HistoryExtra podcast, and also co-author with Prof Michael Lewis of the Story of the Bayeux Tapestry. 'It is such a powerful, resonant, vivid document using the power of the imagery which still speaks to us today.' President Macron's announcement at the dazzling state banquet in front of King Charles, the royal family and rock stars Mick Jagger and Elton John that he will loan the Bayeux Tapestry to the British Museum next year, was made in the spirit of Anglo French Entente Cordiale. But the extra layer of intrigue is that, according to historian Dr Musgrove, the tapestry may have been commissioned in the first place to placate the defeated English – and bring together the warring countries. Much of the history of the relic is unknown and open to a great deal of interpretation – both now and by medieval minds. The characters buried within the 58 scenes of several stitched cloth panels, that were sewn together to make one piece, reveal a lot about the fashions, politics, carpentry and ship-building of the time. READ MORE: 'Gran's saucy paintings were slammed – but we're having last laugh' Historians have also unravelled its rude secrets and found willy-waving soldiers and well-hung horses. But, a bit like a medieval social media post that lacks nuance, it was probably created as a 'simplistic narrative' that William had a 'decent claim to the throne of England, that he was justified in his invasion, and his adversary, Harold, was a worthy opponent to be applauded for his military prowess'. Dr Musgrove says you have to read between the woven lines. 'The beauty of the tapestry are the little Latin captions which are very terse and don't really tell you anything, which is one of the reasons it might have been made to bring people together, because you can read it and look at it in so many different ways,' he says. Before we even get to the blood and gore of the battle itself, the tapestry starts about a year before the main event. READ MORE: 'We drank to excess and had debauched sex parties – but one drug split the band' 'It's the story of how Harold Godwinson, who at that point was an important earl in England, but not the King, gets himself entangled in Normandy,' explains Dr Musgrove. 'He goes on a sea voyage to Normandy, finds himself probably as an unwelcome guest of William, and then they go on some adventures together and Harold is painted as heroic.' History lessons tell us the Normans brutally asserted their control over his newly-conquered kingdom, but there is another theory to explain why the English are treated well and Harold is painted as a hero in the tapestry. 'We think this might have been made at a particular moment in time shortly after the battle, when William was trying to bring everyone together,' says the historian. This very un-Normanlike touchy-feely attitude didn't last long. 'By 1070 William had enough of rebellions and took a much harsher line,' says Dr Musgrove. One of the more famous scenes in the tapestry is the Halley's Comet which appeared in the sky in 1066 after the death of King Edward. Dr Musgrove continues: 'It's a portent of bad luck, so this is a commentary on the fact that Harold has had himself crowned when he shouldn't have, because he's made this oath to William'. Nobody is sure exactly why the tapestry was commissioned or exactly when, but there are theories about it, including a story as old as time about a boastful power-seeking nobleman. 'The main theory is that it was created by Bishop Odo of Bayeux, who was William the Conqueror's half-brother, because he has surprising prominence in the tapestry,' says Dr Musgrove. 'Perhaps he wanted to be memorialised in an artefact for his cathedral? Or he wanted to curry favour with William, who he'd fallen out with and wanted to sort of show what a marvellous thing the Norman conquest was.' It clearly worked, as Bishop Odo was made Earl of Kent after the conquest. But the first clear documentary reference for the tapestry wasn't until 1476 when it appeared in an inventory at Bayeux Cathedral. However, Dr Musgrove says most experts would agree that it was probably made in Canterbury by English seamstresses, who were famous for their needlework. 'We had a rich tradition in Anglo-Saxon embroidery, and also in the Latin captions there are bits of English language,' he explains. 'Importantly, some of the scenes seem to be almost directly copied in their content and their style from scenes in illuminated manuscripts, which we know were held in monastic libraries in Canterbury in the 11th century.' And there was one more link – the power-crazed Bishop Odo was also in charge in Canterbury. The original embroidery is kept in the Bayeux Museum in Normandy, but a replica created in the late 19th century is held at Reading Museum. 'Seeing Mick Jagger at the banquet reminded me that Charlie Watts also owned a replica of the Bayeux tapestry – there were a few copies made in the 19th century,' adds the author. But the nudity and willy waving figures sewn into the borders around the battle scenes were actually censored by the Victorians in their versions. Underpants were sewn over offending genitals and even horses' genetalia was covered! READ MORE: 'I'm a chemist - Agatha Christie wrote one murder plot better than any other' While pictures of phalluses are often symbols of fertility in different cultures, in our Anglo-Saxon tapestry they very much give off 'rich bloke in sports car' energy. 'There are 93 penises in the tapestry,' confirms Dr Musgrove. 'Although 88 of those belong to horses. What's quite fun is that William the Conqueror is riding a horse with a a memorably large appendage.' There could be a 94th among the human figures of men – and women – with their genitals exposed, but Dr Musgrove says a question hangs over whether 'what's dangling below his garments is a penis or a scabbard or sword'. Again, nobody knows the reason for the rude nudes. They may just be some sort of commentary on what is happening in the main battle. Otherwise, it was created for the monks in Canterbury and, as the historian proposes, 'it's actually a big sort of moral commentary on the sins of worldly people'. Another explanation - given the earthy nature of soldiers - is that it's simply medieval porn. 'The tapestry may well have been created for military men who fought in the Battle of Hastings to remind them of their glories,' suggests Dr Musgrove. 'They might have been the sort of chaps who are amused by depictions of naked people, and they're providing moments of levity to what is essentially a bloody story.' Which basically means the tapestry could also be a 900-year-old sex text!
Daily Mirror
18-05-2025
- Daily Mirror
Brits love beautiful beach with colourful huts that's 'perfect for a day trip'
Located in the Tendring district of Essex, the beach is a popular spot for both locals and visitors alike with its colourful beach huts, fresh water lido and a range of sports activities The county of Essex boasts a plethora of beautiful beaches to revel in when the sun makes an appearance, and this one, adorned with vibrant beach huts, impresses time and time again, setting the scene for a splendid day trip. The rainbow of beach huts at Brightlingsea never fails to pull in the crowds, yet there's even more to this seaside gem, including a rare freshwater lido and a whole host of watersports on offer. A mere 10 miles from Colchester, you've got the option to windsurf, canoe, jet ski, swim and soak up the sun. And for those seeking a more tranquil experience, there are serene pleasure trips on sailing barges too. But note, dogs aren't permitted on the sands. As Essex's sole Cinque Port, a historical harbour once frequented by monarchs like Edward the Confessor, Brightlingsea is steeped in maritime tradition. Journey from the harbour office to the marina steps, and you'll discover a monument commemorating local Olympic hero Reg White, who clinched gold back in '76. Originally a vital hub for fishing and shipbuilding, today's Brightlingsea is a yachting sanctuary, annually playing host to renowned international sailing competitions that draw significant crowds, reports Essex Live. Mark Frith shared on Google reviews: "First time here and we found it to be a nice quiet place with the most amount of beach huts we have ever seen in one place. It has a Lido, which you don't see many of these days, which looked well maintained." Hans Rol shared his experience online, saying: "My wife and I were pleasantly surprised by the feel, the looks and the warmth of Brightlingsea Beach. There is plenty to see and do, from the beach it is a short walk to the centre of town." He was particularly impressed with the beach huts, admitting: "Personally I was taken by the beach huts, beach houses. So much love has gone in to personalising and maintaining these structures. Brightlingsea Beach has it." Prem Anand had a similarly positive view, commenting: "Lovely beach for family, had a long walk with our dog and park and activities for kids.. had a lovely day." Matthew Barrett also left a rave review: "Lovely day out, nice beach, safe places to swim, couple of food / drink places, kids play area, nice walks, parking is free along in the road or there is a pay and display car park at the end, would definitely recommend."
Yahoo
24-04-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
A Rookie Archaeologist Was on One of His First Digs—and Found a 1,000-Year-Old Coin Hoard
"Hearst Magazines and Yahoo may earn commission or revenue on some items through these links." Archeologists found over 300 silver coins dating back to the 11th century. The hoard has been nicknamed 'The Pasty' because the cloth and lead that were carefully wrapped around the coins resemble a Cornish pasty. Experts believe the owner of the stash buried their wealth for safekeeping after Edward the Confessor's coronation. Construction projects can lead to incredible archaeological discoveries, and the excavation site Sizewell C has proved to be quite fruitful. Located on the coast of Suffolk, England, the area is a developing nuclear power site. Sizewell C's archaeology partner, Oxford Cotswold Archaeology (OCA), is working hard to preserve the history of the area. Previously, the team unearthed treasures that included World War II artifacts and an Iron Age axel. And the site just keeps on giving. Just this past January, archaeologists found a hoard of 11th-century coins in near-perfect condition. The 321 silver coins were carefully wrapped in cloth and lead in a way that resembled a Cornish pasty—which, consequently, earned the find its nickname. 'The Pasty, as it was immediately and affectionately named for obvious reasons, was a true privilege to find,' Andrew Pegg, OCA archaeologist and discoverer of the coins, said in a statement. Experts believe that the hoard was once a savings pot of a local figure. Though the hoard had many coins—including some rare ones—from across the region, the owner was likely of middling status. At the time, the entire stash would have been approximately equal in value to a small herd of cattle, according to researchers. The coins in the bundle were minted between 1036 and 1044, dating back to the reigns of Harold I, Harthacnut, and Edward the Confessor. This particular time was one of uncertainty—wealthier individuals closely associated with the previous ruler were often exiled, or (after Edward the Confessor's coronation) had their belongings confiscated. The owner likely buried their stash for safekeeping, but failed to return to retrieve it. Researchers suggest that the owner may have died before digging up the hoard, or was simply unable to locate it again (on second thought, maybe the ground isn't the safest piggy bank). Perhaps even better than 'The Pasty' hoard itself is the story behind its discovery. Pegg discovered the hoard only 9 months into his career—the excavations at Sizewell C were the first archaeological project he had ever worked on. Even better, Pegg grew up in Leiston, Suffolk, so the find was practically in his backyard. 'I was shaking when I first unearthed it, seeing a single coin edge peeking at me,' Pegg said. 'A perfect archaeological time capsule. The information we are learning from it is stunning and I'm so proud to have added to the history of my own little part of Suffolk.' Needless to say, the discovery at Sizewell C sheds light on the anxieties of the time, and the hoard will serve as a valuable piece of history for the public to learn from. 'This project provides a rare and fascinating glimpse into Suffolk's rich history, deepening our understanding of this part of Britain,' Damian Leydon, Site Delivery Director at Sizewell C said. 'In partnership with Oxford Cotswold Archaeology, we plan to make these discoveries as accessible to the public as possible.' You Might Also Like The Do's and Don'ts of Using Painter's Tape The Best Portable BBQ Grills for Cooking Anywhere Can a Smart Watch Prolong Your Life?
