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Return to Alabama, 1945

(NOTE: This post was first published several years ago but I am publishing it again in honor of my Uncle David, who passed away on March 27, 2015.)

Here is the continuation of my mother's story of her family in the years of World War II, beginning with the sea voyage from the Philippines to the USA. They settled in Birmingham, Alabama where my grandfather's family had lived for generations. The photo above shows my mother and her brother David, wearing the knickers he so disliked.

My memories of the sea voyage to the US are that of a storm at sea where the ship was said to have come within 6 degrees of capsizing. I remember a long dark night with the ship rocking, people screaming and tumbling all over the place, suitcases and other articles sliding back and forth, and everyone getting severely sea sick. We were all confined below for safety, and my mother held me close to her in her bunk so I would not tumble around and end up with broken bones or worse yet, a concussion. During this voyage a US Destroyer could be seen in the distant horizon protecting us from Japanese submarines because we were still at war with Japan. Our ship the USS Eberle, as I recall it was a Coast Guard ship, had to take a zig zag course in order to elude the Japanese submarines that could possibly be stalking us.

It was spring of 1945 and the Atomic bomb was yet to be dropped over Hiroshima and Nagasaki in August of that year. (On my brother's birthday, August 7th.) I recall landing briefly at Honolulu and watching a US Navy Band play 'Anchors Aweigh' and parade on the pier far below us. We then landed in San Pedro California, and were put up in a hotel by the Red Cross before boarding a train to Alabama.

A news reporter somehow got word of our presence in the hotel because he came and took photos of me holding an apple and an orange. I had never before seen fruit such as that. It made quite an appealing human interest war story. The train trip across the country seemed endless. I remember traveling across Texas, and asking my mother repeatedly if we were still in Texas.

When we arrived in Alabama we ended up at my grandparents’ farm in Hollins, Alabama. Both my grandparents were still alive at that time and my father's sister, Lena Vernon and her husband, Frank, and son Raymond, lived in the house next door. We liked Raymond and had good times with him. My Aunt Lena, who was the only girl among all sons, was the one in charge, as my grandmother's health was failing and she was paralyzed in a wheel chair. I remember my grandparents, Allison Missouri (Watson), and Elisha David Strong, as being rather mild mannered people who were quite affectionate. My grandmother had given birth to eleven children, nine of whom had survived. Of the two who died, one was a boy named John Heflin who died when just a baby, and Floy Ruth, who, I believe, lived to be about the age of nine. (Southerners like two first names). The story goes that she ate green apples causing severe gastro-intestinal distress which brought on her death. One of their sons was a flier whose plane crashed during the war while flying over the Himalayas. I recall being quite fond of all of my uncles and their wives, as well as my cousins. My father was the youngest in the family, and I was the youngest of all the cousins.

It should be noted here that my grandfather was born in 1856 and lived to be a hundred years old. He loved the fact that he had lived to see cars travel 'a mile a minute', as well as witness the age of the jet plane. My fondest memory of my grandfather was when he would take me with him when he would walk to the train depot to pick up the mail. Hollins was such a 'backwater' that the train only stopped if someone was disembarking, otherwise the mail bag was thrown from the train onto a sort of hook attached to a tall pole. The depot manager would go out and get the bag then sort the mail. People had to go to the train depot and pick up their mail.

While at my grandparents farm I remember lots of wonderful good southern food, my favorite being thick fresh milk straight from the family cow, and hot buttered biscuits (home churned butter). There was a mule named Ida, and the cow had a name as well but I no longer remember what it was. There were lots of chickens that clucked around the chicken yard and one rooster who made their lives miserable. At night they roosted in muscadine vines in the chicken yard. It was a special treat to get to feed the chickens. There was a smoke house, but that was where my brother and Raymond got washed by my aunt in a big wash tub. I got to be washed in the kitchen sink. There was no indoor plumbing and we had to use the dreaded outhouse built over a small creek. During the night we used chamber pots that were kept under the bed. My Aunt was a meticulous housekeeper and very industrious. She and my mother were not fond of each other, but my mother loved my grandmother and I think it was mutual.

During this time my mother and father would make trips to Birmingham to find a house for us and a job for my father. He finally obtained a position with the Internal Revenue Service in Birmingham. Before we moved we had a huge family reunion and everyone brought clothes, and household goods to help us get started in our new life. My brother did not like hand me down clothes, especially knickers. He said that no one wore knickers anymore. (To this day he is particular about what he wears.) The whole family being there was, of course, an occasion to serve lots of good southern cooking at a huge table. There would be several kinds of meat such as ham, roast beef and chicken, 'Irish' potatoes, and sweet potatoes, lots of fresh vegetables from the garden, glasses of milk, sweet ice tea and hot buttered biscuits. The milk was thick with bubbles on top and I would go around and pop the bubbles in everyone's glass until my mother stopped me saying that was unsanitary. For dessert, there were several kinds of freshly baked fruit pies as well as home made cakes. All the leftovers went to the pigs. Southerners did not eat heated over food. Everything was made fresh for each meal.

After we moved to Birmingham my brother, father and I would still visit the farm, but my mother would avoid going. That is another story. As for me, I loved it there, but I now understand that my mother did not want to spend her weekends in another woman's house who was hostile to her.

There were many pleasant experiences at my grandparent's farm and in the neighborhood where I grew up in Birmingham. In spite of the perils and trauma of the War, I remember having a happy childhood and feeling loved, protected and nurtured by my family. My mother, as you may have noted, is the heroine of this story, and my sister was indispensable. I have lived my entire life being in awe of them and their courage and resourcefulness during some of the most daunting years of our modern era. Labels: Land of the Free, My Family, The Old South 
Marie-Antoinette with a Bust of Louis XVI 
The Order of the Garter

From the Tudor Society:

The Order of the Garter, officially known as The Most Noble Order of the Garter, is the oldest and highest British order of chivalry. The Order was founded in 1348 by King Edward III and consists of the King (or Queen), their spouse, the Prince of Wales and twenty four Knights. Other members of The Order are known as Royal Knights Companions and Extra or Stranger Knights.

While the members of the Order of the Garter are a small group a new member can be chosen if a vacancy becomes available. A new member of The Order is chosen personally by the ruling Sovereign and has to be someone who has served the Sovereign, held a public office or contributed to national life. Previously, only men were allowed to be Knighted with the Order of the Garter. Women had been associated with The Order but did not hold full memberships. For example, King Henry VII's mother, Lady Margaret Beaufort, was invested as a Lady of The Order of the Garter but was not considered to be a full member of The Order. In 1987 the current Queen, Elizabeth II, decided that both men and women had equal rights at being elected as a Lady Or Knight Companion of the Garter.

Every person that holds an Order of the Garter is required to display their banner of arms, helmet, crest and sword as well as a stall plate within the stalls of St George's Chapel. Upon a Knight or Lady's death, their banner of arms, helmet, crest and sword are removed, leaving only the stall plate. The Stalls at St George's Chapel contain stall plates of previous knights dating back over six hundred years.

Previously, an appointment to the Order was only for aristocracy but in today's modern times a person can be from a non-royal background. If there are vacancies within the Order, appointments are made on 23rd April, which is St George’s Day in England. A person who previously held an Order of the Garter can have it removed if they do not honour the title. Under the rule of Henry VIII several members of the Garter lost their title, these include Edward Stafford, 3rd Duke of Buckingham, who was executed in 1521 for treason, Sir Nicholas Carew, who was also executed for treason in 1539, and Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, who was executed for treason in 1547.

Many famous Tudor personalities have received the Order of the Garter, the most famous of these being King Henry VIII. On Saturday 1st November 1494 young Henry Tudor was created Duke of York in a lavish ceremony. Then on the 17th of May 1495 Henry was created a Knight of the Garter by order of his father King Henry VII. For the occasion, the young boy, only three and a half years of age, wore a crimson velvet gown and a bonnet of the same colour. It is most likely that the ceremony took place at St George's Chapel, the home of the patron Saint George. It is interesting to note that the traditional colour worn during the Order of the Garter ceremony is a mantle of blue and yet Henry VII chose for his son a crimson gown. Perhaps this was to signify his son's status as Duke of York and his royal lineage. (Read more.) 

Rare Picture of Marie-Thérèse-Charlotte of France The daughter of Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette in black and gold. Share 
Memories of Manila, 1941 to 1945 

My mother recently jotted down some of her recollections about life in the Philippines during World War II. Born in Baguio in 1939, she was a toddler when the Japanese occupation began, and so cannot always relate exact dates and times. Her father, Herman Strong, was from Alabama and so as an American citizen was interred in a Japanese concentration camp. My grandmother, Magdalena Vidal Crosby Strong, kept the family together throughout the war and the many hardships. Above is a photo of my mother, Alice, as an infant in her father's arms. The small boy is my Uncle David and the young girl is my Aunt Floy, standing next to my grandmother. Here are the notes from my mom: 
The History of Irish Traditional Music


Irish traditional music began as an oral tradition, passed on from generation to generation by listening, learning by ear and without formally writing the tunes on paper. This is a practice that is still encouraged today and students of traditional music are encouraged to pick up tunes they hear from others or to learn as they listen. Many formal classes will provide music notes for students and books do print tunes on a traditional music stave, however.

The traditional music played by the Irish came to the country with the Celts 2,000 years ago. The Celts were influenced by music of the East (which is why you may think you hear some resemblance of an Irish tune being played at Canal Street station) and it’s believed that the traditional Irish harp may in fact have originated in Egypt. (Read more.) Labels: Music, My Family, The Irish, The Paradise Tree 

Cinderella (2015)

Ella's Mother: Have courage and be kind.
~from Cinderella (2015)

Too often in films, fairy tales are retold to fit current agendas, especially the feminist agenda. Snow White becomes a warrior and Sleeping Beauty's bad fairy becomes a martyr of male cruelty. This is one reason why Disney's new blockbuster Cinderella is a refreshing change from the usual movie fare. Shakespearean actress Lily James brings both grace and innocence to the part of Ella, a heroine who finds strength in kindness, courage and forgiveness. It made me fall in love with the old fairy tale all over again, retold on a grand and magical scale. Amid the enchanting and lavish sets and costumes, the golden rococo coach stands out as particularly entrancing, as well as the glass slippers, which look like Waterford crystal.

Director Kenneth Branagh does not apologize for his traditional version. According to The Independent:

In an era of revisionist fairytales such as Frozen and Maleficent, it might be a surprise to find that Branagh’s take on the story of Cinders and her glass slipper is determinedly traditionalist. 'I don’t find myself so exercised by a desperation to be new,' he says, pointing out that when you mix a fresh cast with costumes and production design by, respectively, triple Oscar-winners Sandy Powell and Dante Ferretti, 'all of these things create a new energy'.

And while the Charles Perrault fairytale has already been immortalized on screen by Disney’s own 1950 animated feature, taking it on held no fear for Branagh, given his experience in re-interpreting Shakespeare. 'I choose to be inspired by things that have been done well in the past,' he says. 'So, I don’t worry about being compared, because I think that does paralyze you.' (Read more.)

Cinderella is perhaps the most universal of fairy tales, one that has variations in many cultures over the course of several centuries. The experience of having a stepmother was not uncommon in the days when women sometimes died in childbirth and so the story of the "Cinder Maid" resonated deeply with past generations. Today, with the high rate of divorce and remarriage, young people often find themselves living in the same house with a step-parent, which even in the best situations can offer challenges for everyone involved.

On the most basic level, Cinderella is a tale of injustice and suffering inflicted upon an innocent by an older person whose job should have been to nurture and protect. The innocent is aided by forces from beyond this world, leading to final vindication; in this manner the story fulfills the very natural hope of those who have endured any type of material misery or abuse. As is the case with other fairy tales, the older versions are darker and much, more violent, with the triumph of the heroine being the result of struggle, not merely handed to her on a platter. The wicked stepsisters are grotesquely punished in the older tales whereas in the newer renditions they are shown mercy.

The new film makes many points about the nature of family life and the bond between parents and their children. Because she had a loving childhood, Ella does not pity herself. The love of her parents stays with her even after they die. Rather, she pities her stepmother and stepsisters, who are unhappy in spite of their material well-being. As for the Prince, because he comes from a loving and happy parental union as did Ella, he is determined to marry for love, which fuels his search for the mysterious maiden. Labels: At the Movies, Fairy-tales, Gardens, Princesses 
Statue of Louis XVI at Bordeaux Labels: Art, Enfants de France, Louis XVI 
Catherine Willoughby, Duchess of Suffolk The marriage of Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, to his ward, Catherine Willoughby. To quote:

According to Chapuys, Katherine and Charles Brandon were married on 7 September, almost certainly in London and very probably in the presence of the king. We can be reasonably certain of this because only three days later Brandon ‘supported’ the old Duchess of Norfolk when she stood godmother to the infant Princess Elizabeth. Elizabeth’s baptism would have been Katherine’s first formal appearance as Duchess of Suffolk, and marks the beginning of what was to be a long and not always easy relationship with the future sovereign. But no one, least of all Katherine, would have guessed this on a late summer’s day in 1533.

No detailed account of the wedding has come down to us but we may assume that, in accordance with tradition, the couple exchanged vows and the groom placed a ring on the fourth finger of the bride’s left hand ‘in plain sight’ at the church door. They then entered the building where their marriage was blessed and wine – a symbol of the new bond between the two families – was served to the assembled guests. The ceremony was followed by a feast – usually at the bride’s home but perhaps on this occasion at Suffolk Place – and then by consummation. There was frequently much horseplay as the newly-wed couple were put to bed, but such revelries were part of the occasion. Katherine would not have been surprised or alarmed.

How Katherine coped with her new role and responsibilities can only be imagined, but she cannot have found it easy. Until very recently she had been the heiress to a barony and the ward of one of the most powerful men in England; now she was his wife, a duchess, and the mistress of his household. At court she could allow her husband to take the lead while she basked in his evident pride in her, but she could not expect him to shield her when they were ‘at home’ in London or at Westhorpe. The servants would have been used to treating her with the respect due to a girl in her former position, but how did they respond to this abrupt change in their relationship? Some, no doubt, laughed behind their hands when she made mistakes (as she was almost bound to do in the early days), but they knew their places and Katherine would have learned fast. (Read more.) Labels: Chivalry, Princesses, Queens of England, Tyrants 

A Poem for Richard III

The poet laureate’s eulogy, written for Richard III’s re-interment at Leicester Cathedral on March 26, 2015, read by Benedict Cumberbatch. Via The Guardian.

by Carol Ann Duffy Labels: Archaeology, Chivalry, Politics, Queens of England 
Comfort Food Around the World From PureWow:

The Canadian Francophiles don’t eat just any French fries; they douse their fries in brown gravy and melted cheese curds or even top the dish off with meat and veggies. It’s the ultimate satisfying dish. (Read more.) 
Ways to Promote Your Book

A helpful article for authors and would-be authors. To quote: 

Elizabeth Feodorovna Princess and Martyr. Born Elizabeth of Hesse-Darmstadt, she was a granddaughter of Queen Victoria, sister-in-law of Tsar Alexander III and sister of Empress Alexandra. Share Labels: Communism, Germany, Martyrs, Princesses, Queens of England 
Castles – Cold or Cosy?
 Labels: Apocalypse, Archaeology, Chivalry, Princesses, Queens of England, The Night's Dark Shade 

The Gallery of Peace at the Tuleries Sometimes I feel extremely upset that they tore down the Tuileries. Via Vive la Reine. Share Labels: Architecture, Enfants de France, Princesses, Queens of France, The Revolution 
The Bishop's Poisoner

From author Nancy Bilyeau: 

Fashion Victims A book review by Anna Gibson. To quote:

In Fashion Victims: Dress at the Court of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette, Kimberly Chrisman-Campbell delves into the aesthetics, evolution and multifaceted meanings of fashion in France from the 1770s through the revolution and its aftermath.

The book is separated into four distinct parts (Court and City, New and Novel, Fashion and Fantasy, Revolution and Recovery) and each part is further distinguished by chapters covering different aspects of fashion that fit under each part's theme. All four parts of the book are also supplemented by a short introduction that introduces the themes of each section.

In "Court and City," for example, Chrisman-Campbell discusses Marie Antoinette's penchant for fashion as well as her influence on the burgeoning fashion industry; the part also discusses the rise of "petite-maitresses," a term designated for women who were devoted to keeping up with the latest fashions, however rapidly changing or ridiculous they might be; and finally the role of the marchande de modes, such as the famous Rose Bertin, without whom the evolution of late 18th century fashion may not have been possible.

My favorite aspect of the book is Chrisman-Campbell's abundant use of various contemporary sources in her text. She quotes and analyzes material from fashion magazines, newspapers, memoirs, letters, revolutionary pamphlets and other sources; these sources give great insight into how fashion was viewed on a commercial, social and even personal level by the people who were directly impacted by it. I also greatly appreciated Chrisman-Campbell's insights into subjects that are not typically discussed in books about this period, such as chemise gowns and the chemise a la reine, the status of fashion for French emigres who fled during the revolution, extensive details about mourning fashion and its social customs, and the wave of "Anglomania" that crept into French fashions in the 1780s.

Fashion Victims is filled with gorgeous contemporary paintings, engravings,and illustrations as well as photographs of existing 18th century garments. The image reproductions are high quality and provide an excellent companion to Chrisman-Campbell's text. More important than the images, however, is the text itself. Fashion Victims is not just a pretty book: it is filled with interesting, insightful and in-depth scholarship by Chrisman-Campbell, who discusses everything from the details of elaborate court dresses to the scandal and acceptance of chemise a la reines to elaborate mourning customs to some of the strangest coiffures, like those made to celebrate smallpox vaccinations. (Read more.) Labels: Enfants de France, Marie-Antoinette, Queens of France, Style, The Revolution 
Birth of an Heir No, this is not a Christmas card and the baby is not the Christ Child, believe it or not. It is the Archduke of Austria and future Holy Roman Emperor Joseph II, eldest son of Emperor Francis and Empress Maria Theresa. Joseph was to become Marie-Antoinette's bossy older brother. (Via Vive la Reine.) Share Labels: Art, Marie-Antoinette, The House of Austria 
Saint Chesterton?

From The Atlantic: 

A Russian Calendar, 1915 The Imperial Family. Share
Posted by elena maria vidal at 3:00 AM 0 comments Links to this post Labels: Holy Russia, Princesses, The Revolution 
No White People Allowed

Now this is interesting. I actually have no problem with any ethnic group that wants to have their own space. From The HuffPost: Labels: Land of the Free, The Old South, The Revolution 
The Life of Thomas Cardinal Wolsey

From Tudor Times:

Ipswich, Suffolk, in the 1470s was one of the most prosperous towns in England. East Anglia was an important centre of the wool trade, with English fleeces being sent from its ports to the Low Countries and goods imported in return. Within Ipswich there was a school, possibly founded by the Guild of Corpus Christi, or perhaps attached to one of the monasteries, where the sons of local traders and farmers could learn to read and write in English and Latin, and study enough mathematics to run a business. To this school, in the late 1470s, went a young boy by the name of Thomas Wolsey.

Thomas Wolsey's birth date and parentage are not absolutely proven, but the generally accepted view is that he was born in the early 1470s to Robert Wolsey (or Wulcy) a butcher and grazier of Ipswich, and his wife Joan Daundy.

It seems likely that he had an older brother, both from his name (most first sons were named for their father) and from the fact that his father was keen for him to become a priest, as evidenced by Robert Wolsey's Will. Had Thomas been the older son, he would have been expected to carry on the prosperous family business.

Thomas did so well at the school that he was given one of the four scholarships in the gift of the Bishop of Norwich to Magdalen College Oxford. His exceptional intellect enabled him to complete his BA by the age of fifteen – even in a time when many scholars completed their BA earlier than is done now, this was considered remarkable. (Read more.) Labels: Architecture, Chivalry, Politics, Queens of England, Tyrants 

Writing My Fourth Novel

I want to tell of how I came to write my fourth novel The Paradise Tree. My goal is to create fiction which truly makes the past come to life. My idea of historical fiction has always been to open a door onto history, so that the reader feels they are in the same room with the characters, breathing the same air and absorbing the atmosphere. Historical fiction is an art; it is a painting come to life; we authors paint with our words.

The Paradise Tree tells of Irish immigrants Daniel and Brigit O'Connor and how they struggle to build a new life in Canada. One of the main characters in my novel is a little boy named Fergie, Daniel and Brigit's grandson. He is based upon Dr. Fergus Joseph O'Connor, my great grandfather. As a little girl, I visited him several times at his home on 193 Earl Street in Kingston, Ontario. I am grateful for the few memories I have of this wonderful man, a true patriarch. I recall how approachable he was, how kindly and gentle with small children. A Kingston newspaper article described him in his nineties as being “still active and spry…his eyes twinkling….with short quick steps“ and that is exactly as he appears in my memory. In 1918, Dr and Mrs. Fergus O’Connor, my great-grandparents, moved to 193 Earl Street  with seven of their soon-to-be eight children. A white rose bush from the original that Fergus' grandfather Daniel had brought over from Ireland was planted outside the front door. It was an elegant brick row house around the corner from Saint Mary’s Cathedral, where Fergus and Frank had been married eleven years earlier, and where several of their children and even some of their grandchildren would eventually be wed. “One ninety-three,” as the house is still referred to among my relatives, although it passed out of the family in 1988, seemed like a palace to me as a child, with its high ceilings, beautifully carved furniture, and three stories of rooms. It was not a palace though, or even a mansion, just a grand old house. Thus began my experiences with the Irish side of my family, the O'Connor clan.

During the summer of 2001, my late father and stepmother invited me to accompany them and my three half-siblings to Canada where my O'Connor relatives owned several cottages on Lost Bay Lake near Gananoque, Ontario. My dad rented one of the cottages from a cousin and we settled in for a week. At the time I was working on my third novel The Night's Dark Shade as well as suffering through several personal crises. My Dad's first cousin Mary O'Connor Kaiser showed a great deal of interest in my work and  in my life. She was a beautiful and brilliant woman, a retired attorney with four grown children and many grandchildren. She and my Aunt Margaret, as family historians, had collected a great deal of information about our ancestors who had settled in that same area in the 1820's and 30's. Mary suggested that perhaps I write a novel about the early Irish settlers, among whom was my great-great-great grandfather Daniel O'Connor. She gave me books on Canadian history so I could begin my research right away.

Then life intervened; I had a baby and all writing was put on hold. In 2004, I returned north (with both husband and daughter in tow) to work on my book with Mary. We went over family trees and documents and she told me where to go to find more information. She drove me all over the countryside so I could see the original sites where the ancestors had been. We walked through the old cemetery at Bellamy Pond in Toledo, Ontario and explored the old mill at Delta. It was an August day but slightly overcast which gave the hills and fields a pale golden glow. We both felt that we were driving back in time because the people who had once lived in those places seemed so alive to us at that moment. When I went home to the States, I had enough information to get started, and on August 15, my birthday, I penned the first lines of The Paradise Tree.

I worked closely with Mary via email and phone calls and sent her the first few chapters when they were completed. Then came the shocking news that she had cancer. Before I could see her again she was dying. I last spoke with her right after she received the Anointing of the Sick. She was peaceful and cheerful. She passed into eternal life on July 5, 2005. I last saw her at her wake; she was all in white and looked like an Irish Queen.

The next few years were difficult, but I struggled on to write the book when I could, making a few more trips to Canada to gather information, where I received help from other cousins. But when I made it to the chapter where Daniel is called to muster, the book came to a standstill for several years. By that time I was homeschooling, blogging and working in eldercare with little time to spare for anything else. I put the Irish novel on the back burner and focused on getting my medieval novel, The Night's Dark Shade, ready for publication. I had a deal with a publisher but it fell through so I decided to self-publish for the first time.

In the fall of 2013, I was contacted by Wiseblood Books. I sent them a book proposal of The Paradise Tree and they offered me a book deal. Having a contract forced me to break through the writer's block and finish the book. At the time I was taking care of an 81 year old lady who was recovering from an illness. My client had been a producer for the BBC for many years, plus a producer of plays. She encouraged me to complete the second half of the book, reading each chapter as I finished it, editing and making suggestions. As I came to the end, I knew it was the best novel I had yet written.

However, while going over the manuscript with the Wiseblood team, there were major disagreements about certain aspects of the plot, and changes that they wanted me to make which I felt would totally alter the story I was trying to tell. So I decided to ask to be released from my contract and self-publish once again.

The Paradise Tree was released this Fall of 2014 and is dedicated to the memory of my Cousin Mary. The critical reception has been highly favorable. The Midwest Book Review hailed it as "historical fiction at its best"  and Kirkus called it: "An imaginative, meticulously told history...." The San Francisco Book Review gave it five-stars, describing it as "fascinating" and "stunningly lovely." So I am thrilled that after so many years I finally have a good quality book that honors the family members of times long past as well as those beloved ones whom I myself have known. Labels: Books, Canada, My Family, The Irish, The Paradise Tree 
Richard III is Laid to Rest At Last

Here are some phenomenal photos of the funeral of Richard III, the last Plantagenet King of England:

Some threw Yorkist white roses on the passing coffin. Strange shades of the funeral procession of Princess Diana in 1997. The atmosphere was, of course, wholly different. And yet, this was an event which could not fail to remind us of the unique, mysterious visceral hold which royalty has on our affections.

At one point, mounted police had to join in and clear a path through the streets. It would be hard to imagine greater crowds should Leicester City ever get round to winning the FA Cup.

Earlier, around the Bosworth battlefield where Richard came to a violent end in August 1485, he was greeted with periodic applause from thousands who had lined the roads, many of them carrying white roses.

Half a millennium on, the War of the Roses still evokes strong emotions. There remain many who believe passionately that Richard should have been buried in York – in the heart of his old northern powerbase – rather than Leicester.

Leeds taxi driver Shaun Dixon had not only come to pay his respects yesterday but had even gone to the trouble of commissioning and unfurling a banner proclaiming: ‘If the King can’t come to Yorkshire, Yorkshire will come to the King.’ (Read more.)


The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass will be offered for the repose of the King's soul. According to the Catholic Herald:

A Requiem Mass in the traditional Latin form is to be offered at a Catholic church in Lancashire to mark the reinterment of King Richard III, which will take place on the same day at Leicester’s Anglican cathedral.

The mortal remains of Richard III, who died in the Battle of Bosworth in 1485, before the Reformation, will be reinterred in the cathedral on March 26, in the presence of the Archbishop of Canterbury and an invited congregation.

The Requiem Mass for the repose of Richard III’s soul will be held on the same day St Catherine’s Church, in Leyland, Lancashire, at 7.30pm. It will be a Sung High Latin Mass with singers from the Laeta Cantoribus Choir, “in the style and manner of (Richard III’s) day”.

“The idea is that it will be closer to what he might have experienced in his own lifetime, as a pre-reformation Catholic,” said parish priest Fr Simon Henry.

After the service, refreshments will be served, also in keeping with what King Richard might have expected in his lifetime.

“The food afterwards will make at least a nod in the direction of the 15th century, or at least to his Yorkshire connections,” said Fr Henry. “Though wild boar sausages are a little difficult to come by!”

The skeleton of Richard III was found under a car park in Leicester in 2012. In the days before the reinterment service at Leicester Cathedral, the coffin will be taken to Leicester University and Bosworth Field, where the king was was killed in battle.

Following the Leicester Cathedral service, Richard III’s body will lie “in repose” for three days before being reinterred.

Cardinal Vincent Nichols of Westminster will be part of the week-long run of events to mark the reinterment.

The cardinal will preach at a service of compline on the day the king’s remains are received into the cathedral and will celebrate a Requiem Mass the next day at a nearby Catholic parish.

Dominican friars will also sing vespers at the cathedral in the run-up to the reinterment and Fr David Rocks OP, parish priest, will preach at a lunchtime Eucharist. (Read more.)

Nancy Bilyeau writes of the history of the Greyfriars. To quote:

There is no record of what Richard III thought of the Franciscans, Observant or otherwise, but considering that they braved a ferocious political climate to give him Christian burial, the relationship could only have been good. His successor, Henry VII, rather surprisingly, held the friars of Greenwich in high esteem as well. He arranged for the installment of stained glass in their church, and left them 200 pounds in his will as he “knew that they had been many times in peril of ruin for lack of food.”

But perhaps the greatest sign of Henry VII’s regard for the Observant Franciscans is that he chose to have his second son, the future Henry VIII, baptized in their chapel at Greenwich.

For a time, all was well in the new reign. Henry VIII arranged for the Observants to say two Masses daily for his father’s soul. In 1513, he wrote to Pope Leo X saying he could not commend enough the Franciscans’ strict adherence to poverty and sincerity, charity and devotion. His wife, the Spanish Catherine of Aragon, went even further. She was often accompanied by her Franciscan confessors and, in middle age, wore a habit under her robes.

All the players were in place, then, for one of the greatest clashes of the King’s Divorce. When Henry VIII sought to have his marriage to Catherine annulled so that he could father a son with the young Anne Boleyn, the Observant friars sided with Catherine and opposed him, showing tremendous—if not suicidal—amounts of courage.

After Catherine of Aragon had been banished from court, Franciscan Friar William Peto, in his Easter Sunday sermon in 1532, preached to a full church, with both Henry and Anne Boleyn in attendance, that if the king pursued his divorce, he would incur the same fate as Ahab and the dogs would lick his blood. After the sermon, Peto told the king to his face that divorce put his throne in jeopardy and that there were mutterings Henry had slept with both Anne’s sister and mother. There is no known record of greater defiance in the presence of the king.

Yet Henry VIII did not strike back. Astonishingly, Friar Peto was not arrested; he was allowed to go into exile. The following year, Henry VIII had his daughter with Anne Boleyn, the future Elizabeth I, baptized in the same Greenwich friary church as he had been.

But executions of more defiant followed, and a rebellion broke out in the North. Mercy was harder to come by. Another Observant Franciscan, Friar John Forest, a former confessor to Catherine of Aragon, bore the full brunt of Henry VIII’s rage. He refused to swear to the authority of the king as supreme head of the Church of England. After several years of imprisonment, Forest, 67 years old, was taken to Smithfield on May 22, 1538, and burned to death. About 200 Franciscans are believed to have been imprisoned for refusing to swear loyalty to king over pope; perhaps 50 died in captivity. (More here.) Labels: Chivalry, Liturgy, Queens of England 
ISIS Destroying and Selling Priceless Artifacts

From Histories of Things to Come:


Conspiracy theorists insist that Islamic State is an arm of America, and stories about ancient plunder are false flags. This is naïve. For those who believe that western peoples and powers can be blamed for every act of savage violence that occurs in the world, I must sound naïve. To them, I would say: please reconsider your infinitely media-fied gnosticism, your stubborn conviction that there must be a higher power, a secret superior force controlling every outrage. Perhaps these videos are exactly what Islamic State propagandists say they are: the naked bid of Islamic State for higher power in the region, laying the foundations for full-scale attacks in Europe. Because media reports can be so easily manufactured today, and the IS publicity machine is so slick, people never believe a report is just a report; an event is just an event; an account is just an account; and that history is just history. We can't really be living this nightmare, can we? (Read more.) Labels: Archaeology, Scripture, The Mystery of Iniquity, The Revolution, Tyrants