MISS ELAINEOUS VISITS THE LONDON MITHRAEUM...

I found out about the London Mithraeum after watching a TV programme, entitled Bacchus Uncovered: Ancient God Of Ecstasy, whilst lying on the sofa with the lurgy.
Bacchus was the Roman god of agriculture, wine and fertility.  He was essentially copied from his Greek equivalent, Dionysus, but he is the pleasure god we modern people refer to when describing uninhibited or drunken revelry- as in bacchanalia.
Of course, such behaviour would appeal to a fun-loving, wine-supping creature such as myself!

The programme mentioned the Temple of Bacchus at Painshill Park, in Surrey, which is newly re-built and which I have visited...

...And brought to mind London's Roman Amphitheatre, which dates back to AD43, and which I also saw not too long ago...

...But I'd never heard of the London Mithraeum, which is in the vicinity of the above amphitheatre and free to visit as long as you book beforehand.

The temple site was uncovered between 1952 and 1954 and, as a compromise between re-designing the intended building- Bucklersbury House- and abandoning the historical site, the ruin was dismantled, re-assembled and moved 100 metres.  The reconstruction was not accurate and the materials used drew criticism.

Following the demolition of Bucklersbury house, in 2007 the Bloomberg company purchased the Walbrook Square project and restored the Mithraeum to its original site, 7 metres below ground and just a few metres west of its original position.  It opened in November 2017 and sits below the building which serves as Bloomberg's European headquarters.

This temple to the Roman god Mithras (or perhaps dedicated jointly with other deities favoured by Roman military men) was built in the 3rd century AD and lies on the site of the long-gone London river, the Walbrook.

The lost cult of Mithras first appeared in the 1st century AD and spread over Europe during the next 300 years, attracting the likes of imperial generals, soldiers and merchants.  The temples- which were often constructed below ground- were dark, windowless and mysterious.  The mythological scene of killing a bull within a cave- a tauroctony- was at the heart of this strictly male-only cult.

The cult was probably re-dedicated to Bacchus in the 4th century- hence its inclusion in that particular TV programme.

It was a drizzly and dank day when we emerged from Bank Tube station.  Just around the corner from the Bloomberg building is this weird, green affair, which is sculpted from painted bronze.  It is part of a trio of fountains by Spanish artist Cristina Inglesias and represents wellsprings and roots.  The original river Walbrook is now part of the London sewer system.

At ground level inside the Walbrook building is this installation by Pablo Bronstein.  It is called London in its Original Splendour (2018) and is an effective abstract collaboration of well-known London buildings.

You turn to this very simple but well-executed display wall of items uncovered from the site.  There are accompanying tablets available, so that you can hone in on the details and history of individual pieces...

This wooden sign is believed to be the oldest piece of writing with London's given name on it...

Close-up of the wall...

Being a shoe fetishist, I just HAD to examine this Roman shoe...😉

You walk a floor down, to encounter this information (basically, what I've written about above...)

Then you enter this dark room with ghostly, informative stands and sculptures...

A few steps downstairs and you are now 7 metres below ground.  This is the original situation of the Mithraeum- the Romans didn't live below ground; this was ground level in their day.  Population and development mean that the ground level naturally rises.

Here is the Mithraeum plan...

The first part of the show is interactive, with low level light and the supposed sounds of a ritual meeting taking place two thousand years ago.

It is actually very realistic.  Then the lights get brighter and you can walk around the Mithraeum and take pictures, albeit without a flash.

View from the back of the dais...

Plinth steps...

The glass floor as you enter...

These lights give the impression of spooky doors...

It's quite a good experience and certainly worth half an hour of your time.

We walked out and heard the sound of drums, as the procession of the annual Boar's Head Ceremony was arriving at Mansion House, home of the Lord Mayor of the City of London.

This dates back to 1343, when the monks living in the vicinity were tired of the local butchers depositing offal on the public highway.  The butchers were granted a small patch of land for cleaning and preparing their meat, and the cost was that a pig's head had to be delivered to the Mayor of London every Christmas- forever.

The people in the fur trimmed robes are from the Worshipful Company of Butchers and a few hangers-on are joining in behind them.  It was a real treat to run into this as I'd never even heard of it before.  Nowadays, the boar's head is made of paper mache- the real thing having gone in before- and a feast takes place which includes the City's dignitaries.  Riff-raff are certainly not invited!

This was a bit of a rushed photo, so it's not great...

We had a bit of time to kill so we made our way past St Paul's Cathedral...

...And into the Museum of London...

...Which has this quite picturesque 'sunken' (it's actually ground level, but we were now a level up, so it's illusory) garden...

I didn't really photograph much, as there's a lot to see and we wanted to have a simple stroll through.  This space is also worth an hour of your time.

I did, though, have to take a picture of these restoration shoes...

This lovely pergola in the 'garden' feature reminded me of the Saloon in the Brighton Pavilion...

After the obligatory Pizza Express dinner (which included a nice glass of bacchanalian red...😉) we moved on to our Barbican exhibition, entitled Modern Couples.  It explores creative relationships in art.

I couldn't take photos in here, but here's a PDF of the most evocative piece I saw.

Au Bord de la Mer (The Edge of the Sea), is a 1914 self-portrait by Romaine Brooks (1874-1970).
She was an American lesbian who was involved with writer Natalie Barney.  I like this painting as the subject's eyes draw you in and make you want to work out what's going on in her mind.  She looks unhappy; bewildered, questioning, caught unawares and she appears to be enquiring as to why you're intruding by regarding her.  Apparently, she had a very troubled childhood.

We had to finish the day with a Vain Old Tart photograph...

You'll be pleased to know that my trusty, favourite, eleven-year-old pink sparkly cardi finally died a death and had its funeral in the bin...😢

We went back to the exhibition a couple of weeks later, as our particular tickets allowed us to do so.  After another pizza meal (this time at Pizza Union) I took a couple of photos of the Barbican complex.  I love its Brutalist architecture but I do think the whole place reminds me of a council estate.  Apparently, this Utopian estate was never that, but it sprang up from an area devastated by Second World War bomb damage into flats which were designed to be rent subsidised for essential workers.

Personally, I'm a real urban girl and I love it!

St Giles' Cripplegate Church.  Many moons ago, I had a keen semi-professional photographer boyfriend who attended a monthly photo club in the basement.  It is thought that there has been a church on this site for one thousand years.

Before this visit, I took the time to wander up Fournier Street, in Spitalfields.  Here, artists Gilbert & George own numbers 8 and 12.  They live in one- number 12- and have restored their original home since 1968- number 8- to its 18th century splendour.  They gained additional studio space by acquiring land that stretches across the back of number 10.

Number 8 Fournier Street...

Number 12 Fournier Street...

I regard these two interesting gentlemen as my gay dads- we certainly share the same foul mouths!  I've never understood what the big fuss is about swearing.  Mind you, that comes from being brought up in a house where there was no such genteel thing as "The wrong end of the stick..."  Oh no, my mother always called it, 'The shitty end of the stick...!'
😂😂😂😂

TTFN

The Miss Elaineous

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MISS ELAINEOUS VISITS KENSAL GREEN CEMETERY...

Yes, Little Miss Macabre has been at it again- I was at the tail end of a lurgy when I decided to hop on the Tube to Kensal Green Cemetery and blow the cobwebs away, in the pleasant and peaceful company of those who have gone before.

It is now officially British winter time- I forsook my usual strappy sandals or court shoes for socks and boots!  Well, I wasn't feeling 100% and didn't want to further endanger my health by not wrapping up warmly enough.

The cemetery was the first of the 'Magnificent Seven' (a term which refers to the seven large, private London cemeteries which were opened in the 19th century to alleviate dangerous overcrowding in parish burial grounds) to be established.

The other six are: West Norwood Cemetery (1836), Highgate Cemetery (1839), Abney Park Cemetery (1840), Nunhead Cemetery (1840), Brompton Cemetery (1840) and Tower Hamlets Cemetery (1841).  Kensal Green is the only cemetery of these which is still owned by the original company- the General Cemetery Company.  Highgate is operated by a charity, Brompton is owned by the Department of Culture, Media and Sport and the others are owned by local councils.

Inspired by the Père Lachaise Cemetery in Paris, which dates back to 1804, Kensal Green Cemetery- also known as All Souls Cemetery- opened for business early in 1833. 

The only other of the Magnificent Seven I have visited is Highgate Cemetery.  Read all about it here:-

http://elainerockett.blogspot.com/2017/02/

My first impression, in comparison, was that Kensal Green seemed a bit more spacious than Highgate and, although a stunning necropolis, was less evocative.

Here's a PDF showing a map of the cemetery.  Common sense dictated that I print this off and take it along!

I entered through the main gate.  Here is the inside view.  Apart from workmen, there were only around half-a-dozen other people around.

I'd also printed off a self-guided tour from the internet.  Tours of the cemetery take place on Sundays, at 2 p.m.  I went on a weekday and, quite frankly, wouldn't want to do a tour at this time of year as they last two hours and it would be getting dark by the time the tour finished.  This is from a practical, common sense point of view, you understand- not because I'm scared of ghosts!

Firstly, I veered off to the Dissenters' Chapel.  This is for persons who are not of the Anglican faith, and was closed.

Many famous people are buried in here, but I was not impressed with the self-guided tour as it was a bit unspecific and took me on wild goose chases, hot-footing it over old graves!  There were references such as it's by the seventh tree on the right...  and you have to question what the writer meant by a tree (a massive, majestic thing or a spindly thing?  Both were in abundance) and also directions such as turn right at the holly bush...  In fact, holly bushes seemed to get mentioned a lot, yet I didn't encounter one.  Or maybe I'm just daft!

One of these, according to my instructions, was supposed to be significant, but somehow I don't think so...

A bit of later Googling told me that none of these was the resting place of Mary Hogarth (1820-1837), sister-in-law of Charles Dickens...

I tried to follow my guide but I doubt this is the grave of artist Daniel Maclise (1806-1870).  Or maybe I'm wrong.  I have two choices- to go back and give the guide another go or pop in on a Sunday and do a tour.  If I do go back, I will do both.

Although I didn't spot any holly bushes, I certainly saw lots of ivy.  I like the way it's clambering over these three conjoined graves...

I find cemeteries very peaceful and not at all scary.  My mother always said to me, 'Nothing dead can hurt you.'  Very true.  It's the living we have to be afraid of.

These graves are being claimed by the earth...

As a writer, one of the graves I HAD to see was that of William Makepeace Thackeray (1811-1863).  His masterpiece, Vanity Fair, is one of my top ten favourite all time novels.  I also saw a brilliant adaption of the book serialised on television recently.

He was easier to find as he was (as per instructions) right of where the wall becomes iron railings.  Trees and holly bushes can be felled- but walls and iron railings are harder to shift!

View from the back.  Thackeray's tomb is the the one with railings around it.  Two graves down, to the front of the picture, is the indecipherable grave of his friend, John Leech (1817-1864).  He was the principal cartoonist of satirical magazine Punch.

Thackeray's grave detail is almost impossible to read.  Here's a photo I flipped and blew up...

A little further up and in are Victorian engineers Sir Marc Isambard Brunel (1769-1849) and his son Isambard Kingdom Brunel (1806-1859).

The former was mastermind of the Thames Tunnel, a railway tunnel which connects Rotherhithe and Wapping and forms part of the London Overground today.  The latter was responsible for numerous bridges and railways, including the Great Western, which passes close by to this very cemetery.

I continued the tour and thought I was going in the right direction.  I rather liked this view of the great tree, through the wonky, timeworn graves...

I loved this 'helmet' grave.  There was no obvious legible inscription.

The self-guided tour then took me off on a bit of a wild goose chase, so I gave up and headed towards the Anglican Chapel, which was visible through the trees.

Here are some of the impressive mausoleums I saw, like this church-like edifice in the background...

My high heeled boots were probably a bit too impractical for these kind of paths- I did manage to chip a heel.  Oh well, the boots were nine years old...

Do I believe in the Afterlife?  Yes.  People I have loved have contacted me from 'the other side' through my (often vivid and sometimes very poignant) dreams.

Have I ever seen a ghost?  Yes- the much-written-about Grey Lady, in the Duke's Head Hotel in King's Lynn, Norfolk.  No, I wasn't drunk or on drugs.

Yes, this place was certainly atmospheric.  It was a chilly autumnal day and the air was as still as the occupants of the graves...

There is an angel in here, but this reminded me of a bell tower...

I veered off right and headed towards the catacombs.  These are not open to the public and are currently undergoing some sort of conservation.  This was as close as I could get.

The grave in the direct centre of the photo reminded me of the Chrysler Building, which is my most favourite New York skyscraper.

The Anglican Chapel was well and truly closed...

One of two symmetrical, columned walkways at the back.  I got a real sense of infinity, and a feeling of being really alone, as I looked down here.

The other walkway, taken standing behind the chapel...

Back of the chapel, taken from the corner.

Looking down into the vaults...

The London skyline is just visible in the distance- the old juxtaposed with the new makes for a good comparative composition...

I headed back round to the front of the chapel, and continued my own searching, as the self-guided tour mentioned nothing about the members of the British royal family who were buried here.  Fortunately, Google did, and I'd done my research.

Not to be confused with the current man who owns this title, this is the resting place of the ninth child and sixth son of George III, HRH Augustus Frederick, Duke of Sussex (1773-1843).  This tomb was large and easy to identify from memory.

The prince was known for his liberal views, which included the abolition of the slave trade and reform of parliament.  He also illegally married twice, in contravention to the Royal Marriages act of 1772.

His sister, HRH Princess Sophia (1777-1848) was the twelfth child and fifth daughter of George III.  She was rumoured to have had an illegitimate child and chose to be buried here, rather than at Windsor Castle, as she wanted to be near her brother.

Her 'bathtub' grave, with the gas works looming behind, was also easy to spot.

If you walk through to the back of the chapel the tomb of the nephew of these two, HRH Prince George, Duke of Cambridge (1819-1904) can be found.  He was a grandson of George III and is also not to be confused, as his five-year-old namesake is currently alive and well. 

I referred to my self-guided tour to find the next few deceased, as it used the chapel as a reference point and I figured that it wasn't easy to go wrong with something as solid as that as a starting point.

Blondin's real name was Jean Franćois Gravelat (1824-97) and he was probably the best know tightrope walker of all time.  He took his name from the owner of the first circus he worked at.

Anthony Trollope (1815-1882) was another 'must see' for me.  I own a copy of Barchester Towers (part of the Chronicles of Barsetshire series) which sits proudly on my bookshelf.

The grave of author Wilkie Collins (1824-1889).  His novel, The Woman In White, also makes my top ten all time favourite books list.

Kensal Green Cemetery has been described as a Who's Who of fashionable 19th century society.  Whoever wrote that is not wrong!

I walked up to the crematorium to encounter this structure, which reminded me of a summer pavilion...

It is the heartrending memorial to Medi Oliver Mehra (2003-2014).  He died at only eleven years old in a horse riding accident.

The sight of his cute little face brought tears to my eyes.😢

I made my way towards the crematorium.  This was very much in use and a couple of mourners were hanging around outside.  I was dressed head to toe in black, so was unobtrusive!

Gardens of Remembrance...

This plinth was of particular interest to me...

...As above Ron Clarke and below Patrick and Maria Barrett, a plaque for this guy was once in place...

The above is a PDF photo taken just after its discovery, around 2013.  Mysteriously, the plaque disappeared only a few weeks after this news went public. 

Farrokh Bulsara was the birth name of the legend that is Freddie Mercury, and the dates of birth and death match, so I can think we can safely assume that it's a dedication to him.  I should imagine the plaque was removed to stop hordes of fans visiting this site, or even pinching the plaque.

I'm not someone who would dare to pinch it- I don't want to be haunted and woken up at 3 a.m. every night for the rest of my life by a man striking a fist in the air pose and screaming DAY-OOOOOOOO at the top of his voice!

  It wouldn't surprise me if it's been relocated to somewhere subtle and unobtrusive in the garden.  Coincidentally, my visit was very close to the date of the anniversary of his death.

I've seen the outside of his mansion, 1 Logan Place, in west London.  Read about it here, via a previous blog:-

http://elainerockett.blogspot.com/2017/02/miss-elaineous-visits-freddie-mercurys.html

It's a known fact that his cremation took place here, but only his ex-girlfriend, Mary Austin (who also inherited his house and a large chunk of his wealth) knows where his ashes are.  She took possession of them and, as per Freddie's instructions, has revealed their location to nobody- not even his family or the other members of his band, Queen.

Apparently, Freddie had a real fear that once he was dead his grave might be defiled (he died of AIDS related illness, and there was a lot of ignorance surrounding the disease at the time) or that he could be dug up.  I've read that he wanted his remains to be interred underneath the cherry tree in the Japanese garden of his home, but both Mary's ex-husband, Nick Holford, and Freddie's partner at the time of his death, Jim Hutton, dispute that.  Mary claims that she sneaked out of the house covertly (as staff have prying eyes) one morning and buried the ashes.

But did she?  As Freddie was so scared about being dug up, I bet he wasn't buried at all, and was scattered instead.  It wouldn't surprise me if Mary's little story is fabricated and he's in this Garden of Remembrance, despite her insistence to the contrary.  I guess we'll never know, but if he is here then it's a lovely and peaceful spot.

R.I.P. Freddie. XXXX

I made my way back to the front of the Anglican chapel, trying to find the memorial to George Cruikshank (1792-1878).  He was originally here but exhumed and re-interred at St Paul's Cathedral.  He was a cartoonist and illustrator and I did a project on him whilst undertaking my art foundation course, but could I find him?  No.  At this point the stupid guide went in the bin.

I did find this chap- Dr. George Birkbeck (1776-1841) was a physician, academic, philanthropist, professor and a pioneer of adult education.  He founded Birkbeck, University of London.

I made my way out down the central walkway and here are some random tombs I liked the look of...

Kensal Green is not an area I know- in fact, north west London as a whole is not an area I'm familiar with.  The closest I would have been before is West Hampstead or Ladbroke Grove.  I don't often use the Bakerloo line, but I quite liked the trains as they have a bit of an 'old' feel about them (little things please little minds!)

We'll finish with a Vain Old Tart photo...

TTFN

The Miss Elaineous

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CROMWELL ANECDOTES: ILLUSTRATING THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF OLIVER CROMWELL by DR. MACAULAY

CROMWELL ANECDOTES:

ILLUSTRATING THE LIFE AND CHARACTER

OF

OLIVER CROMWELL,

LORD PROTECTOR OF THE COMMONWEALTH

BY DR. MACAULAY

THE BLURB:-

There was none...

THE REALITY:-

...But there was a personal message from my mother to my uncle stuck on a post-it note on the inside. It would appear that this book once belonged to my father... then he died and my mother took it on holiday to America with her, to pass on as a gift to my uncle, who'd spent over half his life there... then he died (he shot himself- please don't ask; my family has always been complicated) and my cousin brought it back over the water to give to me, whilst she was visiting London on business.

I was sitting finishing the final chapters when a guy struck up conversation with me and asked if I was reading a first edition. Well it is, and I checked its value; but I'm not sure it's worth more than a tenner (which I thought might be the case).  Oh well, I'll do a little more research then will either sell it to a bookshop who deals in these things or pass it on to charity.

Is this a particular period of history that I'm interested in? Not really, but it's also a time I knew very little about (I own a large book devoted to the Kings and Queens of England but, of course, it omits this period). So, under the banner of learning, I gave it a read (although that's probably more for sentimental reasons- this book was once the property of my father, after all.) I found it very informative and suitable for any student of The Interregnum, although a tad biased- maybe even sometimes very biased- in favour of Cromwell.

I'm a royalist. Whilst I'm not in love with every member of the royal family, if it ain't broke then don't fix it!  Also, what is the alternative? President Theresa May, and whomever her successors may be? Get the HELL out of here! The royals have reigned almost constantly for nearly a thousand years and our current Queen, despite having made mistakes along the way, does get off her backside and does do the job properly. Prince Charles will make a sensitive and good King and, let's be honest, he's had enough practice in doing his apprenticeship for the top job. If there is going to be any weak link then I think that will be Prince William, who comes across as lazy and selfish, and whom I think would probably have been better suited in the role of second son. I see shades of Edward VIII in him and am always shocked when the media calls for Charles to stand down and let William be the next monarch. Having said all that, my favourite royal ever was Diana, and she was someone who was not born into the establishment. She dragged the family out of their 19th century ways and turned them into the institution of modern royalty we see today. Plus, she gave the family some much-needed glamour. Whilst Kate and Meghan are very attractive (I quite like quirky underdogs, Beatrice and Eugenie, too) no-one comes anywhere near to projecting the same star quality that Diana did.

Enough of my opinions- this book is an informative enough read if you're interested. I learnt some new words from this factual book, which I'm always happy to do, but I doubt very much that the Scots like to be referred to as Scotch, which is, after all, a drink! I did speed read parts and was glad I'd flattened it and could move on.