We had a note in our letter box the other day. It was signed by one Aubrey Bishop with the enquiry whether our house was formerly known as the Dun Cow Inn. He wrote that his great-grandfather had been publican here in the 1880s. He left his phone number and, a couple of days later Pen rang and confirmed that our house was once, indeed, the Dun Cow Inn. He kindly sent through some stuff – a copy of the relevant page of the 1881 census as well as a couple of photographs.
He was indeed publican in the 1881 census with his wife Mary Ann and, at the time, five children.
Census returns are fascinating and can tell you so much about folks even though they are only a snapshot in time once every ten years. For example, it’s clear that George and Mary Ann had done a fair bit of moving about – their children were born in Flintshire (Wales), Little Massingham (Norfolk), Silverstone (just a few miles down the road from us) and the youngest, Ethel at age one month, is listed as having been born in Moreton Pinkney, presumably in the same bedroom we use.
Intrigued, I did a bit more searching in some later census returns. In the 1891 census George had moved on. He still lived in Moreton Pinkney but, by that time, he had morphed into a “dog breeder” and by 1911 he had moved to Brackley (about 11 miles from here) and had set up as a “dog trainer”. Clearly dogs were more to his liking than dealing with the drunks in the village.
Last Saturday we were up in London at the National Theatre for the matinee production of Twelfth Night which was absolutely magnificent. Once again, I marvel at the ingenuity of the staging of the set. As the lights came up there was a large double-sided staircase in profile with a large pole at the raised end. There were, as it happens, several flats concealed between the two staircases revealing a variety of scenes as the staircases were spun around on stage. Stuff came down from the ceiling and up through the floor (including a fully-working Jacuzzi)! There was also a lot of gender-bending which, of course, would have been right up Shakespeare’s alley. Tamsin Grieg played Malvolio(a) and she was simply brilliant. This was one of the best productions we’ve seen in a very long time with some real laugh-out-loud moments.
And then Thursday we were up to town again! This time to the Royal Academy for an exhibition entitled “America After the Fall”. When my father was alive he used to send me snippets from, usually, the Wall Street Journal alerting me to various exhibitions in London which he suggested I might enjoy. This is an exhibition which I am sure he would have recommended. It is an exhibition of American paintings between the Wall Street Crash and the outbreak of World War II and has, as its centrepiece, the iconic American Gothic by Grant Wood.
There were another couple of his including Death on Ridge Road as well as a couple of Hoppers – Gas has long been one of my favourites – I love his use of light.
All in all it was a splendid exhibition which we thoroughly enjoyed.
I guess you all will have heard the news that Theresa May has called a General Election for 8 June in spite of repeatedly stating that she would not seek to call an early general election. Now she has. Oh, I forgot – her lips were moving.
Part of the point of introducing fixed-term Parliaments a few years ago was so that a sitting government could not manipulate events by calling an election at any time of their choosing to their obvious advantage. And, that’s what this is – calling the election before the full extent of the Brexit horror is unleashed. Mind you, there have been many who have wondered why she so vigorously claimed she would not call an early election – conditions could not be any better for the Tories at the moment. Labour is in turmoil with an unelectable leader, the Lib Dems have not yet recovered from their annihilation in the 2015 election and, as I say, the full repercussions of the Brexit disaster won’t be felt for another two or three years. Get yourself elected with an overwhelming Conservative majority while you can, before the electorate wake up and discover that the empress has no clothes.
Fortunately, we’ll be out of the country for a couple of weeks of the campaign – we’re off to the States next Sunday. I just wish we could manage to be out of the country for the whole depressing exercise – this is an election where the result is more than a foregone conclusion. The only question is how big a majority will the Tories secure?
Yours in despair,
Greg