Clocking in

Everybody knows Big Ben. Right?

Americans mostly think Big Ben is the clock tower pictured here. A lot of London folk think so too. No harm done.

Of course YOU know that Big Ben doesn't really refer to the tower or the clock, but rather to the largest of the 5 bells that are located in the belfry. I'm not writing this post to correct your thinking - so many people just call the clock tower Big Ben, it has become acceptable to do so. No, what I really want to do in this post is talk about the bell itself.

My infallible sources (I'm trying to stay away from Wikipedia this year) tell me that Big Ben is the third largest bell in the UK. I'm sure you can name the other two, so I won't insult you by telling you about those.

Yes I will.

The largest bell in the kingdom is Great Paul and the second largest is in Liverpool. Big Liv or something like that. No, wait. Great George.

Some of you are probably wondering who Big Ben is named after. Rightly so. That's a poser. For those of you who believe it was named after Queen "Ben" Victoria, sorry. But thank you for playing. There are so many prominent Benjamins from whom to choose. Many say it was named after Sir Benjamin Hall, who personally carried the 13-ton bell on his back up the 334 steps to the tower belfry. Could be. In fact, Sir Benjamin Hall's name is inscribed on the bell, so you would really have to be a dyed-in-the-wool skeptic to still doubt who it is named after. Before I learned about Benjamin Hall, I was going to guess Benjamin Disraeli, though I doubt even his own mother ever called HIM "Ben". And I immediately discarded Benjamin Franklin as a candidate.

The original Great Bell weighed over 16 tons, and was drawn from the foundry to the tower on a trolly drawn by 16 horses. This was not, I'm thinking, one of your average Tesco trollies. [Note to American readers: Tesco is a British grocery store chain, and the British don't use shopping carts.] Unfortunately, the first bell cracked while being tested and had to be recast. I'm not entirely sure where the missing 3 tons went. All I know is that Sir Ben was PISSED (as Charles Dickens noted afterward) that he had to carry the bell down and up again.

I'm sure, if you are burdened by the peculiar kind of "Rain Man" memory that Relax Max has, then you can't really read the words "16 Tons" without immediately thinking of Tennessee Ernie Ford's 1956 hit song of the same name. I'm sure. "Ya loaded sixteen tons, whaddaya get? - Another day older and deeper in debt. St. Peter dontcha call me cuz I CAN'T GO! I owe my soul to the company store. Doodoodoodoo dumdy dumdum."

But try to block that out of your mind for the time being.

Would you, dear American reader, like to visit the belfry of the Great Clock Tower of the Palace of Westminster when next you are in London, and check out the bells and clockworks close up? Sorry, no furriner tourists allowed. They'll take your money for the ground level tour stuff, though, and let you in the gift shop, but only actual card-carrying British citizens (including some Scots, I'm told) may tour the tower itself, and only then if they get a recommendation and okey-dokey from their PM. Make that MP. True. And guess whether or not the tower has a lift? Heh heh heh.

I really wanted to show you a picture of the Great Bell known as Big Ben, but the only pictures I could find were on Wikipedia, and, as I say, Wikipedia lies too much for me to use this year. Those could have been pictures of the Liberty Bell for all I know. So I have drawn you a picture of Big Ben, below, just to give you a working idea of what it looks like. By the way, just for scale, the actual bell is 2.2 meters tall. That is about half a rod, more or less.

[Illustration drawn by Relax Max. The original was drawn by 16 horses.]

One final note. The clock tower (and maybe the whole of the Westminster post-fire rebuild, for all I know - I have already spent too much time on this post and I'm not going to go back and look it up in my notes) was designed by Augustus Pugin. Augustus later went mad and spent time in Bedlam (perhaps screaming in terror about nightmarish neo-gothic architecture) and died at age 40. So sad. Died at Ramsgate, Kent. But I've already posted about Ramsgate. Some say he really died of syf-full-lus. But those people are probably spiteful Torries.

Carrying on

I am happy to report that I have discovered another opportunity to use the word recusant. You may recall I learned the word doing research for the unfortunate Guy Fawkes incident. I feel if one doesn't use new words, one quickly forgets them. Unfortunately, recusant isn't a word often used in my country, since people here could care less about someone's religion. Couldn't care less, I mean. Unless they are Muslim, I guess, but that is quite another story.

Recusant, I'm sure you remember, means Roman Catholic. Well, actually it means refusing to be Church of England, but Catholic is the main alternate choice that used to piss off Henry VIII, good queen Bess, James six-one (or is it one-six?), et al. Et tu. Et eggs.

"What did you have for breakfast, Tommy?"

"Teacher, I et six eggs for breakfast."

"Ate."

"Maybe it WAS eight I et."

Sigh.

It all started when I was doing research on the Order of the Garter. I think that part started when I Googled the Princess Royal by mistake, and I'm not sure the connection. I am even less sure how that led to another opportunity to use recusant. Wait... now I remember. That Parker-Bowes fellow was Anne's first boyfriend.

It's all rather circular: sir Humphrey de Trafford, millionaire multimillionaire racehorse owner, who came by his fortune through sacrifice and hard work and not through being connected to the right people, had a daughter who was the mother of the aforementioned Andrew Parker-Bowes, the guy who had the brief "relationship" with the Princess Royal whose brother quite liked one Camilla Rosemary Shand (whom I refuse to call Rosie) who later became the Dutchess of Cornwall (unless you are of the Scottish persuasion, then she's the Dutchess of Rothesay.) Well, Andrew didn't marry Anne, whom he was dating, and neither did her brother marry Camilla, whom he was more than infatuated with, so the sordid story goes. No, indeed. Andrew married Camilla right out from under him. In a manner of speaking. Then, though Andrew did marry Camilla, he, Andrew, took up with one Rosemary Pitman, descendent of the famous inventor of the Pitman system of shorthand writing, Andrew seemingly having a weakness for women named Rosemary, while the aforementioned brother of the Princess Royal never really let his affection for the Andrew-wife Camilla stay what you would call unrequited, if you get my drift. Now, if this slippery hole is still not quite deep enough for you, let me mention also that the aforementioned inventor of the famous shorthand system was a brother-in-law to an uncle of Diana, Princess of Wales. My GOD do these people have no shame!

And yet, I find I have drifted somewhat off the point in my righteous indignation. The de Traffords (racehorse guy, and so forth) are notable historical RECUSANTS. That means Andrew, who actually presumably TOUCHED the Princess Royal, was a gol-derned Catholic, same as Guy Fawkes. So was Camilla. JesusJosephandMary. And Diana? Who knows. She learned shorthand and took up with a Muslim, but she wasn't reCUsant by a long shot.

Just don't get me wound up about Camilla's ancestor, a mistress of Edward VII. Circular indeed. I know you won't.

Day of Reconciliation

Today [December 16] is a public holiday in South Africa.

The Day of Reconciliation holiday came about in 1994 following the end of apartheid, and is intended to foster a spirt of reconciliation and national unity.

However, the date chosen comes from a much earlier event.

On December 16, in 1838, was fought the Battle of Blood River. On the bank of the Ncome River on that date, king Dingane, with an army of close to 15,000 men, attacked 470 Voortrekkers. The Voortrekkers, under the command of Andries Pretorius, of course had provoked the attack, though they hadn't counted on quite that large of an opposing army.

The Zulus attacked the Voortrekkers in waves, with only spears for weapons. The Dutch soldiers had muskets and cannon. By the end of the day, the river by the hippo pool had actually changed color.

In the ignoble (some say) carnage on that killing field, over 3000 Zulu warriors were slaughtered. The Trekkers had 3 slightly wounded, including Pretorius himself.

The Zulus lived to fight another day, and with much greater success.

Read more about the Battle of Blood River, its causes and its aftermath here.