Friday Week (Ago)

It is Friday week from last Friday.

This is merely to assist certain people who, like myself, might tend to forget where they are, which knitting project should get preference, or what date it is.

Last Friday, the first installment of company for the weekend arrived. And there was much rejoicing! (and i caused the evening to get to an only slightly late start as a result of snapping my bike key off in the lock -- but as a future lock-picker, successfully forced the key halves together and jammed them down to make the key turn. This after only a 2 1/2 minute fit of despair in the bike shed at work.)

Matthew arrived from Cardiff (first class, of course) and was able to peruse a bit of the city and locate the Puppet Man for future reference (and possible career inspiration -- we all need a little inspiration). Eamonn and the Late Child (aka, me) met M on the Prince of Wales Bridge, where the people-watching is so good, and toddled off for our evening's repast and entertainment. After some lovely nosh and beverages at the Adam and Eve (Pimm's for me, as I was trying to be a laydeeee and ale for them as they were adamantly not), my friend Lisha joined us as well, and we then located the tour that leaves from the pub 6 nights a week from April Fools' to All Hallows.

Bryan McNerney leads tours of Horrid Histories in the summer, and our tour was themed 'Revolution'. It took us around the back of the Adam and Eve and along a part of the Riverside Walk that I had never discovered before. We walked past the Swan Pits on the way.

The Swan Pits are uphill slightly about 10 steps away from the river and were the slaughter location for the annual swan culling for centuries. Swans were considered royal food and owning swans was limited to persons who had been gifted the privilege by the monarch; even today, the Crown retains ownership of all unmarked mute swans on open water. However, these gifts were also limited in the annual population that could be maintained by the individual or family and so each year the swans were counted (families of swans can be distinguished by features -- who knew! And owners also marked them... but that is much less intriguing) and any in excess of the allowance were killed and then gifted as luxury food (usually for Christmas) to other privileged persons. A little 'tributary' runs from the pits to the river.

About 1/4 mile further on is Cow Tower. I am ashamed to say that I have never been to it before, partly because of the report that you cannot climb up inside it anymore. This makes me sad because I am a climbing mammal. It is still about as tall as it was in its defensive days, but then, Norwich's city defences were more for show than for true battle, as there were huge gaps in the walls, significantly along the river (not like anyone couldn't just boat or swim across the river). The most usage of the gates and walls was to force local traders to pay taxes on either entry or exit (I forget) from the city instead of just coming in to the huge market and then taking their money all away from the city economy.

It is not called Cow Tower because a cow was led to the top and thrown off. It is probably not called Cow Tower because a dead cow was put in a trebouche and shot through the 4-foot thick walls. The tower is placed along a part of the river that used to be meadowland and was where people could bring their cows to graze.

A pretty 5 minute walk along the river brings one to Bishopsgate bridge. This is a place that we have been before, but on a walk of a different sort, as The Red Lion Pub is situated right next to it :)

Bishopsgate is the only remaining medieval bridge in Norwich. As part of the aforementioned city defences, it did have a tower at one time (which is now gone) and did have defensive holes for the bottom of the gate to lock into. This road goes all the way into the Cathedral walls, and is the route which heretics walked on the way to a chalk pit where they were burned at the stake.

Along the riverbank at this point was also where the tanners had their work. Tanners used refuse (most particularly urine) in the tanning of leathers and this was therefore the location where the gong farmers brought their 'wares'. 'Gong' is a Tudor slang term signifying solid excrement. Since there was a plentiful supply of this at this location, a popular form of entertainment was to purchase a bucket o' poo (and such) and throw it on the poor Lollards or whoever were the popular heretics of the week.

In 1549, Ketts Rebellion began as a simple protest again the gradual removal of common land usage rights. Landowners for centuries had allowed peasants to use common land for grazing, etc. but they had begun to remove this privilege, leading to more severe poverty. (This linked article gives a slightly different skew from the tour)

Kett, although a wealthy man by this point, led the peasants in protest against the city, which barred gates against them. The rebels camped on Mousehold Heath, a hill across from Bishopsgate and were apparently sent food stuffs, beer, and things necessary for survival from the citizenry.

After sheltering in a gorgeous 1970s doorway to Trudie's Hair Salon for quite a nice little rain, we made it to the corner where Italian mercenaries were severely outnumbered by 15,000 rebels who had flooded over Bishopsgate Bridge. Lord Sheffield is supposed to have been killed at St.-Martin-Palace-Plain, but from descriptions of his being dragged from his horse and bludgeoned to death by a local butcher with a powl-axe, he was killed at a sharp turn in the road -- right by the back gate to the Cathedral.

The Cathedral itself was also a site of revolution at several points, the most notable being in the 1270s when the Prior decided to levy an extra tax on the Tombland marketplace, the Anglo-Saxon market right outside the Cathedral priory gates. They cleverly decided to raise the tax on a holiday, thinking that since the vendors would be raking in the money, they would be too busy to fuss about a little old tax.

Market traders, however, stuffed their selling of goods, stormed through the cathedral gates into the cathdral, stripped what they could, piled the rest under the tower and set it afire. The inferno only stopped when the tower collapsed dusting the flames. The cathedral is built of limestone. When limestone is heated, it turns pink just before it turns to dust; there are sections of pink limestone still evident inside.

Afterwards, we sat in from the rain and visited with Bryan for a while. Bear learnt a lot.

Upon our leaving, it started to rain again, for which reason I was v. happy to have my lovely authoresses brolly gifted thoughtfully by the Clever Clarence and which I have had with me for my entire sojourn in this country.

We watched our step.

It was a marvellous evening, and I cannot wait to go on another tour (as I am a dork)!

And this was just Friday!
(Saturday will be next installment -- the arrival of the Dawn!)