Latest news with #Harold
The Sun
12-07-2025
- The Sun
Moment huge fireball engulfs housing block in ‘arson attack' as residents sleep… before hero mum saves dozens of lives
THIS is the dramatic moment a bin store erupted into a huge fireball just inches from a block of homes as residents slept - following a suspected arson attack. Ruth Galloway - whose maisonette is directly above where the fire started - woke up her two sons, before banging on neighbours' doors and calling the fire brigade. 9 9 The 48-year-old and her kids, Harold, 20, and 19-year-old Arthur, then found their exit blocked off, with flames licking up the staircase down to ground level. Ruth told The Sun: 'We learned later that the bin store is immediately below a mains gas pipe - that's the worrying bit.' She explained how she'd been 'dozing' at around 1.30am in her home in Bishop Cleeves, Tewkesbury, last Friday (July 4) when she heard a 'crackling' sound. Initially thinking it was her radio, she turned it off but the noise continued, 'then there was a massive bang'. 'I ran downstairs to my balcony and realised the bin stores were on fire,' she said. Ruth then shouted to her sons 'there's a fire, get out of bed!' before carrying her nervous pet Patterdale dog Mookie in her arms. 'The stairs are right next to our house, so there was flames licking our wall," she continued. 'We exited down the other end. We had to walk the whole length, so I banged on as many doors as I could. I presume the fire brigade banged on the others.' She said the firefighters arrived within four minutes. 'Thank God they did because they said if it had been burning for much longer the gas pipe would have gone and it would have taken the whole building with it,' Ruth explained. Schoolboy, 12, killed in horror fire that ripped through block of flats had 'great heart' as family pays tribute The complex consists of 10 maisonettes in a row, above a row of shops and a nursery. However, mum-of-two Ruth laughed when asked if she thought of herself as a hero. 'I was just trying to get out of the building, and make sure people were awake,' she said. She said most of the other households have very young children. 'The poor bastards had to sit out there in the car park for five hours,' she continued. One of Ruth's sons took the video as the blaze raged towards the building. 'I was in shock because of our poor dog. He didn't wake up at all, he just shook. 'He's a bit of an anxious dog, I was just worrying about the dog for the first couple of hours, trying to calm him down.' 9 9 9 It was around 6am when everyone was allowed back inside, with the bin stores and part of the building scorched from the fire. The next day a representative from housing association Rooftop knocked on Ruth's door to check the property. "I'd only slept for about an hour,' she said. 'I just told them we're all just happy to be alive.' She added: 'If it had been going on any longer, if the gas would have exploded, or the flames were coming towards my front door… who knows what would have gone first. 'Either we'd have been blown to high heaven or we wouldn't have been able to get out of the front door for flames. That was scary.' 'Arson attacks' & flytipping Ruth said the same night several fires were also started nearby, including at a school just down the road. 'While we were waiting for the firefighters to put out our fire, there was another one lit at the school,' she recalled. 'You could see this bright light suddenly appear. Whoever was doing it had the brass balls to do another one while the fire brigade were a hundred metres away, and the police were here too.' Ruth said there was plenty of fuel in her complex's bins due to a major fly-tipping issue which has been ongoing since she moved into the property in December last year. As a result, the bin men often neglect to empty them at all, she claims. 'I've been going on about to it to my housing officer since I moved in, I just thought it was a fire risk itself - I didn't realise there was a gas pipe,' she said. 'The gas line comes up from the ground and up the wall.' Ruth said the pipe's been chopped off where it was melted by the flames but the exterior armour 'just about held'. 'Thank God for that - the inside plastic pipe had melted, hence there was a massive gas leak afterwards.' Referring to the flytipping, Ruth went on to say: 'We have fly tippers from all around. The material for fuel in the store was immense because people just come and bring furniture. 'The one attached to my building is supposed to be just for recycling - Tewkesbury Borough Council has refused to collect it for I don't know how long.' 'It feels like no one gives a s***. I've saved not only the housing association's building but also its residents and the businesses underneath. Ruth Gallowayresident She added: 'It's only me that's worried about the fire risk because I'm attached.' Her neighbour, mum-of-three Chantelle Goodwin said: "The bins for our houses have been a nightmare ever since I moved in a year ago. "People come round and fly tip on them and they are over loaded and they then don't get collected for weeks on end. "There is only four green bins for 10 houses, it's not enough. Every single house by me has kids in and most of us have three kids." She went on to say, her kids, aged three, five and seven, "have been so scared" to go to bed because of the fire. "They are worried that they are going to woken up from bangs on the door telling us to get out the house again, and the gas leaking out that may have caused an explosion. "I don't feel safe living here with three kids," Chantelle said, adding the CCTV cameras don't even work so it'll like be impossible to catch whoever may have started the blaze. Building regulations Ruth researched what building regulations are in place relating to bin stores close to properties and found they must be constructed from 'non-combustible materials that hold fire for 30 minutes if attached to a building'. However, the bins are plastic and the stores are wooden. Referring to the housing association, she said: 'They must be crapping themselves, they must have known it (the bin store) shouldn't have been built right next to an exit.' On top of that, due to the gap under the stores, she said there's been a massive rat problem. 'It's all been a bit of a mess. I've been very angry, quite rightly so,' said Ruth. 'It feels like no one gives a s***. I've saved not only the housing association's building but also its residents and the businesses underneath." She added: 'I'm not trying to bash the housing association particularly, but I know there must be blocks of flats with the same issue and I don't want anyone to go through this.' Ruth said since the fire she's been unable to sleep and has been replaying the moment in her mind. 'I have to stop myself and say no, get over it,' she explained. 'It's something I've got to come to terms with but I've had nightmares where I wake up with a jolt.' Peter Tonge, Director of Communities at the council, said: "We've been working with Rooftop Housing to help residents manage the areas and understand their responsibilities. "We encourage waste and recycling issues to be reported as soon as possible so that we can help to resolve them. 'We've had assurance from Rooftop Housing that they have offered support to residents and are reviewing options for the waste and recycling stores site.' The Sun has also contacted Rooftop Housing for comment. 9 9 9 9
09-07-2025
- General
What to know about the Bayeux Tapestry, an 11th century masterpiece of historical record
LONDON -- The Bayeux Tapestry, a 70-meter- (229 foot)-long medieval artwork that depicts the Norman conquest of England, will be displayed in Britain next year for the first time in 900 years. It will be exhibited at the British Museum in London from September 2026 to July 2027 as part of a bilateral celebration of the 1,000th anniversary of the birth of William the Conqueror, the French nobleman who led the invasion. The loan was announced during French President Emmanuel Macron's state visit to the UK this week. Millions of Britons and people from around the world are expected to view this slice of English history — which is normally housed in France at a dedicated museum in Bayeux, in Normandy — while it is on loan to the British Museum. The Bayeux Tapestry Museum will close later this year until 2027 for the construction of new facilities. Here is a brief history of the Bayeux Tapestry, which shines a light on the long and sometimes bloody links between Britain and France. Stitched in wool thread on linen cloth, the tapestry tells the story of the events surrounding the Norman invasion of England. The story begins in 1064 when Edward the Confessor, the king of England, sends his brother-in-law Harold Godwinson to offer his cousin William, the Duke of Normandy, the succession to the English throne. When Edward died, however, Harold has himself crowned king and William set sail for England to reclaim the throne. The tapestry ends with the epic Battle of Hastings on Oct. 14, 1066, where William's Normans rout the Anglo-Saxon forces. Historians suggest the events leading to the invasion were a bit messier. But the artwork in thread tells the story of the victor. There are banquets, fleets of Viking-style ships, and battles between armored knights wielding swords and spears. The bodies of the dead and wounded are strewn about the battlefield, and one scene depicts Harold pulling an arrow from his eye. The story is told in 58 scenes that include 626 characters and 202 horses. While the tapestry is a work of art, it is also considered an accurate account of 11th century life, offering clues about architecture, armor and ships. Historian's believe the tapestry was commissioned by Bishop Odo of Bayeux, William's half-brother, shortly after the events it depicts. Exactly who crafted it is unknown, though evidence suggests the artisans were Anglo-Saxons, according to the Bayeux Tapestry Museum. For the first 700 years of its existence, the tapestry was a little known church artifact that was hung in Bayeux Cathedral once a year and stored in a wooden chest at other times. According to local lore, it was almost cut up in 1792 during the French Revolution, but was saved by a local lawyer. The first public displays of the tapestry took place at Bayeux city hall in 1812. At the start of World War II the tapestry was placed in an underground shelter in Bayeux for safekeeping. But by 1941 it had attracted the attention of the Nazi's pseudoscientific ancestral heritage unit, which removed it for study. By the end of the war, the tapestry was at the Louvre in Paris. After the Allied invasion of Normandy in June of 1944, The New Yorker magazine played off the parallel between those events and the Norman invasion of England nine centuries earlier. The cover of the magazine's July 15, 1944, edition showed Britain's King George VI, President Franklin D. Roosevelt and Prime Minister Winston Churchill in a cartoon version of the tapestry alongside Gen. Dwight Eisenhower, the supreme Allied commander, and British Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery. British authorities highlighted the connection when they built a memorial in Bayeux to honor U.K. and Commonwealth soldiers who died in Normandy. 'We, once conquered by William, have now set free the Conqueror's native land,' reads the inscription on the memorial. For those who can't wait until next year, the Reading Museum, 40 miles (65 kilometers) west of London, has a full-size replica of the Bayeux Tapestry. The 'faithful replica' was created in 1885 by 35 skilled female embroiders, according to the museum's website, though one thing you won't see in the Reading Museum's tapestry is genitalia. The Victorian artisans who created the replica worked off glass photographic plates that obscured the spicy details that were included in the original. 'Although a faithful copy, it's not quite exactly the same,″ said Brendan Carr, the community engagement curator at the Reading Museum. 'There are differences that you can spot. So if any visitors to the museum might be shocked by, you know, body parts, then they're protected if they come to Reading.' Such niceties didn't stop an Oxford University historian from counting 93 penises, 88 belonging to horses and five to men, in the original. But earlier this year Dr. Chris Monk, a consultant on medieval history, argued that that an appendage previously thought to be a scabbard was actually another example of male genitalia, pushing the number to 94. Male genitals are a 'mode of emphasis' that articulate machismo, Monk wrote in a blog post.
Yahoo
09-07-2025
- General
- Yahoo
What to know about the Bayeux Tapestry, an 11th century masterpiece of historical record
LONDON (AP) — The Bayeux Tapestry, a 70-meter- (229 foot)-long medieval artwork that depicts the Norman conquest of England, will be displayed in Britain next year for the first time in 900 years. It will be exhibited at the British Museum in London from September 2026 to July 2027 as part of a bilateral celebration of the 1,000th anniversary of the birth of William the Conqueror, the French nobleman who led the invasion. The loan was announced during French President Emmanuel Macron's state visit to the UK this week. Millions of Britons and people from around the world are expected to view this slice of English history — which is normally housed in France at a dedicated museum in Bayeux, in Normandy — while it is on loan to the British Museum. The Bayeux Tapestry Museum will close later this year until 2027 for the construction of new facilities. Here is a brief history of the Bayeux Tapestry, which shines a light on the long and sometimes bloody links between Britain and France. Art, propaganda and history Stitched in wool thread on linen cloth, the tapestry tells the story of the events surrounding the Norman invasion of England. The story begins in 1064 when Edward the Confessor, the king of England, sends his brother-in-law Harold Godwinson to offer his cousin William, the Duke of Normandy, the succession to the English throne. When Edward died, however, Harold has himself crowned king and William set sail for England to reclaim the throne. The tapestry ends with the epic Battle of Hastings on Oct. 14, 1066, where William's Normans rout the Anglo-Saxon forces. Historians suggest the events leading to the invasion were a bit messier. But the artwork in thread tells the story of the victor. There are banquets, fleets of Viking-style ships, and battles between armored knights wielding swords and spears. The bodies of the dead and wounded are strewn about the battlefield, and one scene depicts Harold pulling an arrow from his eye. The story is told in 58 scenes that include 626 characters and 202 horses. While the tapestry is a work of art, it is also considered an accurate account of 11th century life, offering clues about architecture, armor and ships. Kept in a box for 700 years Historian's believe the tapestry was commissioned by Bishop Odo of Bayeux, William's half-brother, shortly after the events it depicts. Exactly who crafted it is unknown, though evidence suggests the artisans were Anglo-Saxons, according to the Bayeux Tapestry Museum. For the first 700 years of its existence, the tapestry was a little known church artifact that was hung in Bayeux Cathedral once a year and stored in a wooden chest at other times. According to local lore, it was almost cut up in 1792 during the French Revolution, but was saved by a local lawyer. The first public displays of the tapestry took place at Bayeux city hall in 1812. Studied by the Nazis At the start of World War II the tapestry was placed in an underground shelter in Bayeux for safekeeping. But by 1941 it had attracted the attention of the Nazi's pseudoscientific ancestral heritage unit, which removed it for study. By the end of the war, the tapestry was at the Louvre in Paris. After the Allied invasion of Normandy in June of 1944, The New Yorker magazine played off the parallel between those events and the Norman invasion of England nine centuries earlier. The cover of the magazine's July 15, 1944, edition showed Britain's King George VI, President Franklin D. Roosevelt and Prime Minister Winston Churchill in a cartoon version of the tapestry alongside Gen. Dwight Eisenhower, the supreme Allied commander, and British Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery. British authorities highlighted the connection when they built a memorial in Bayeux to honor U.K. and Commonwealth soldiers who died in Normandy. 'We, once conquered by William, have now set free the Conqueror's native land,' reads the inscription on the memorial. 'It reeks of male hormones!' For those who can't wait until next year, the Reading Museum, 40 miles (65 kilometers) west of London, has a full-size replica of the Bayeux Tapestry. The 'faithful replica' was created in 1885 by 35 skilled female embroiders, according to the museum's website, though one thing you won't see in the Reading Museum's tapestry is genitalia. The Victorian artisans who created the replica worked off glass photographic plates that obscured the spicy details that were included in the original. 'Although a faithful copy, it's not quite exactly the same,″ said Brendan Carr, the community engagement curator at the Reading Museum. 'There are differences that you can spot. So if any visitors to the museum might be shocked by, you know, body parts, then they're protected if they come to Reading.' Such niceties didn't stop an Oxford University historian from counting 93 penises, 88 belonging to horses and five to men, in the original. But earlier this year Dr. Chris Monk, a consultant on medieval history, argued that that an appendage previously thought to be a scabbard was actually another example of male genitalia, pushing the number to 94. Male genitals are a 'mode of emphasis' that articulate machismo, Monk wrote in a blog post. 'A more testosterone-soaked scene is hard to find,' he wrote. 'Well, truthfully, there are plenty of scenes of political aggression and posturing in the Bayeux Tapestry: it reeks of male hormones!'
Winnipeg Free Press
09-07-2025
- General
- Winnipeg Free Press
What to know about the Bayeux Tapestry, an 11th century masterpiece of historical record
LONDON (AP) — The Bayeux Tapestry, a 70-meter- (229 foot)-long medieval artwork that depicts the Norman conquest of England, will be displayed in Britain next year for the first time in 900 years. It will be exhibited at the British Museum in London from September 2026 to July 2027 as part of a bilateral celebration of the 1,000th anniversary of the birth of William the Conqueror, the French nobleman who led the invasion. The loan was announced during French President Emmanuel Macron's state visit to the UK this week. Millions of Britons and people from around the world are expected to view this slice of English history — which is normally housed in France at a dedicated museum in Bayeux, in Normandy — while it is on loan to the British Museum. The Bayeux Tapestry Museum will close later this year until 2027 for the construction of new facilities. Here is a brief history of the Bayeux Tapestry, which shines a light on the long and sometimes bloody links between Britain and France. Art, propaganda and history Stitched in wool thread on linen cloth, the tapestry tells the story of the events surrounding the Norman invasion of England. The story begins in 1064 when Edward the Confessor, the king of England, sends his brother-in-law Harold Godwinson to offer his cousin William, the Duke of Normandy, the succession to the English throne. When Edward died, however, Harold has himself crowned king and William set sail for England to reclaim the throne. The tapestry ends with the epic Battle of Hastings on Oct. 14, 1066, where William's Normans rout the Anglo-Saxon forces. Historians suggest the events leading to the invasion were a bit messier. But the artwork in thread tells the story of the victor. There are banquets, fleets of Viking-style ships, and battles between armored knights wielding swords and spears. The bodies of the dead and wounded are strewn about the battlefield, and one scene depicts Harold pulling an arrow from his eye. The story is told in 58 scenes that include 626 characters and 202 horses. While the tapestry is a work of art, it is also considered an accurate account of 11th century life, offering clues about architecture, armor and ships. Kept in a box for 700 years Historian's believe the tapestry was commissioned by Bishop Odo of Bayeux, William's half-brother, shortly after the events it depicts. Exactly who crafted it is unknown, though evidence suggests the artisans were Anglo-Saxons, according to the Bayeux Tapestry Museum. For the first 700 years of its existence, the tapestry was a little known church artifact that was hung in Bayeux Cathedral once a year and stored in a wooden chest at other times. According to local lore, it was almost cut up in 1792 during the French Revolution, but was saved by a local lawyer. The first public displays of the tapestry took place at Bayeux city hall in 1812. Studied by the Nazis At the start of World War II the tapestry was placed in an underground shelter in Bayeux for safekeeping. But by 1941 it had attracted the attention of the Nazi's pseudoscientific ancestral heritage unit, which removed it for study. By the end of the war, the tapestry was at the Louvre in Paris. After the Allied invasion of Normandy in June of 1944, The New Yorker magazine played off the parallel between those events and the Norman invasion of England nine centuries earlier. The cover of the magazine's July 15, 1944, edition showed Britain's King George VI, President Franklin D. Roosevelt and Prime Minister Winston Churchill in a cartoon version of the tapestry alongside Gen. Dwight Eisenhower, the supreme Allied commander, and British Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery. British authorities highlighted the connection when they built a memorial in Bayeux to honor U.K. and Commonwealth soldiers who died in Normandy. 'We, once conquered by William, have now set free the Conqueror's native land,' reads the inscription on the memorial. 'It reeks of male hormones!' For those who can't wait until next year, the Reading Museum, 40 miles (65 kilometers) west of London, has a full-size replica of the Bayeux Tapestry. Sundays Kevin Rollason's Sunday newsletter honouring and remembering lives well-lived in Manitoba. The 'faithful replica' was created in 1885 by 35 skilled female embroiders, according to the museum's website, though one thing you won't see in the Reading Museum's tapestry is genitalia. The Victorian artisans who created the replica worked off glass photographic plates that obscured the spicy details that were included in the original. 'Although a faithful copy, it's not quite exactly the same,″ said Brendan Carr, the community engagement curator at the Reading Museum. 'There are differences that you can spot. So if any visitors to the museum might be shocked by, you know, body parts, then they're protected if they come to Reading.' Such niceties didn't stop an Oxford University historian from counting 93 penises, 88 belonging to horses and five to men, in the original. But earlier this year Dr. Chris Monk, a consultant on medieval history, argued that that an appendage previously thought to be a scabbard was actually another example of male genitalia, pushing the number to 94. Male genitals are a 'mode of emphasis' that articulate machismo, Monk wrote in a blog post. 'A more testosterone-soaked scene is hard to find,' he wrote. 'Well, truthfully, there are plenty of scenes of political aggression and posturing in the Bayeux Tapestry: it reeks of male hormones!'
New Statesman
09-07-2025
- General
- New Statesman
From the ashes
The other week a friend said to me that every time he turned the radio on he heard my voice. I told him it could be the first symptom of madness – he might need to see a shrink. Or an exorcist. But when he listed all the subjects I'd been 'banging on about' across several stations and frequencies, I had to admit I'd appeared on the airwaves quite a lot recently and promised him I'd stay away from the microphone for a while. So he will have felt betrayed if he'd tuned in to the World at One the next day to find me at it again. I don't see myself as a quote-for-hire, and anyway this was for a news programme, so one of the basic principles of hiring (ie, payment) was never going to be fulfilled. But I'd been asked to read a poem, and the topic of conversation was trees, so I couldn't really say no. Several years ago, the opposite side of the valley from my house was planted with ash saplings. It was a Herculean task for the three or four figures – volunteers, probably – who I watched digging hundreds of holes by hand, lugging the young trees up the steep hillside in the drizzle, then planting them and encasing the bark in deer-proof sleeves. I was looking forward to a time in the future when a small forest would form part of the view from my study. But 18 months later the trees were diagnosed with Hymenoscyphus fraxineus, or ash dieback. It was among the earliest outbreaks in the country. In a peculiar, arboreal rehearsal for the Covid-19 pandemic, warning notices appeared and the area was cordoned off. Soon afterwards every sapling was uprooted and burned. The ash is a very recognisable tree, even among people who don't know their elder from their alder. The pointed, oval leaves grow in pairs of five or six along the stems (pinnate) with a single leaf at the end, like an artistic flourish. The winged seeds or 'keys' hang in thick clusters. The open and airy foliage creates dappled light beneath the canopy, and when the wind flexes the boughs, the whole tree looks like a swirling mass of sprats in a Jacques Cousteau film. Those specimens that have succumbed to the blight have become ghost trees, blanched skeletal giants among the greenness of summer or the drabness of winter. Ash trees are as much a part of our history as they are of our landscape. I've heard it said that with the right kind of coppicing an ash can live for more than 1,000 years, so it's conceivable that there are living trees in the UK pre-dating the Norman conquest. What kind of arrow did Harold get in the eye, I wonder, because the ash is both a tree of war and of peace. We fashioned spears from it, just as we have made tables and snooker cues. When a type of tree has been with us for so long, it's inevitable that it will have entered our mythology and folklore, too, as a cure for warts, a remedy for ruptures, even a protection against snakes. It is said that the year Charles I was beheaded not one ash tree in the country produced any keys, and from that time such fruitlessness has been seen as a dark portent for royalty. I wonder if Charles III, with his keen interest in horticulture, checks the ash trees in the royal parks each spring, loosening his collar as he makes his rounds. The good news – and the news I'm asked to comment on – is that the ash is making a remarkable comeback, apparently, adapting genetically to combat the fungal infection, and without any human intervention. It's a story about the resilience and ingenuity of nature, but I feel the urge to warn against complacency. In a warming world there will be more bugs and diseases for our native trees to deal with, and not all species will have the time, circumstances or capabilities to survive. Moving towards the philosophical, I also say that we need to stop thinking of the natural world as a material resource for our lives and think of it more as a resource for our imaginations, stimulating and challenging our creativity, leading us to brighter and bigger thoughts. Then I probably satirise my own argument by saying that we wouldn't have been able to go to the moon if the apocryphal apple hadn't landed on Newton's head. I picture my friend rolling his eyes and reaching for the dial. [See also: Jenny Saville's human landscapes] Subscribe to The New Statesman today from only £8.99 per month Subscribe Related
