And he himself was tall and thin, with sharp blue eyes, each like a pin.

Robert Browning

Of all of the poetry that I’ve ever read, I must admit that there is one that stands out from the others. The poem is Robert Browning’s rendition of The Pied Piper of Hamelin. I’ve read the story on several occasions, but I like the poem best.

Robert Browning was a master of verse.  He was born in Camberwell in 1812 and was lucky enough to be raised in a house with incredible literary sources. Browning’s father encouraged his interest in literature. Although he had inherited a sizable musical ability from his mother, Browning pursued his interest in poetry and his father paid for the publications.

You might remember that I blogged about Elizabeth Barrett Browning a few weeks ago and Robert is the contributor of the latter name.  They married in 1846 and travelled to Italy for Elizabeth’s health. After her death, he returned to London and became part of the London Literary scene. His poetic style was favourable and he was a serious contender for Poet Laureate in 1850 when Wordsworth passed away.

Browning’s poetry wasn’t really aimed at children, but the legend of the Pied Piper became a children’s story and Browning’s poem is quite witty.

The poem as a book,

 

There are several different theories as to what actually happened to the children of Hamelin. I find it difficult to believe that they were swallowed up by a hillside cave never to be seen again, but the story is kind of creepy.  There are some who actually believe that the Pied Piper was some sort of psychopathic paedophile who led the children away for his own devices. There is also the idea that all people of a town are the town’s children and that these particular folk left Hamelin to settle parts of Transylvania.  To me, it’s almost like a game of Chinese whispers where as the story gets passed along it gets a little foggier and harder to interpret.

Robert Browning is buried in Poet’s corner in Westminster Abbey.  Unfortunately, photography is forbidden, but it’s worth a visit if you’re ever in London.  He was an amazing man who could turn anything into a poem, and all of this happened Once upon a time in the 1800s.

 

 

And yet to every bad there is a worse.

Thomas Hardy

London is a busy place.  Trying to push your way along Regent Street on a Sunday is ridiculously difficult, not to mention annoying.  I guess it’s like every big city – they get busy.  At the beginning of the year I moved from busy London Bridge out into the western suburbs of the city where it’s a lot quieter and the view a little better. It’s still noisy of course and at certain times it’s still busy, but not so much on the road where I live. I’m not saying I don’t like central London though; in fact, it could be a lot worse.

I once read a book called Far from the Madding Crowd. The story is rurally set and focusses on the characters and their lives working their farms.  It’s all about the lives and misfortunes of these particular characters and how they overcome them, and it’s written by a man called Thomas Hardy.

Thomas Hardy lived in Trinity Road Wandsworth

Unlike a lot of the writers that I’ve researched, Thomas Hardy’s education ended at the age of 16.  In Dorchester, his father worked as a Stone Mason and local builder. His family couldn’t afford University so Hardy became an apprentice and trained as an architect in Dorchester until he left for London where he enrolled himself in Kings College. Thomas Hardy won prizes in architecture and he was in charge of the excavation of the St Pancras old church graveyard when the railway was built. This unenviable task included the removal of bodies and tombs and there is a particular tree in the churchyard there called the Hardy tree where the headstones have been arranged around the trunk. Although Hardy was a great architect, nobody can deny that he was a brilliant writer.

The Hardy Tree - St Pancras old church graveyard

In Far from the Madding Crowd, Gabriel Oak has his own property until one night one of his dogs rounds his sheep up and they all end up over a cliff.  Oak then has to work for other farmers in the district, but this guy always seems to be in the right place at the right time, kind of like Superman.  I know it’s only a story, but when you read it and think about how he could have ended up, it kind of makes you believe that no matter how bad things seem, it can always get worse.  In the case of Gabriel Oak, his life was full of ups and downs, but it got better. I could wax lyrical about the story until the cows come home and I’m pleased that Hardy tried his hand at writing and didn’t just stick to architecture.                 

Thomas Hardy was born in 1840 in Dorchester and passed away in 1928 in Dorchester. He is now buried in Stinsford parish church.  His birthplace and his home Max Gate are both owned by the National Trust and I am sorry to say that I have not yet visited either.  To say that he loved London would be a lie, but what I can honestly say is, Once upon a time in the 1800’s an Englishman followed a path that led me Far from the Madding Crowd. I urge you to go there!

How do I love thee?

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

When you think about how times have changed and the way writers used to be the comparison is quite significant. In a time where a gentleman would read poetry to his lady and never call unannounced, poets used their skills to enhance life and even help you fall in love. This still goes on of course, but the idea of reading a poem to someone in a garden is slightly cheesy and if there is poetry of any kind, it’s usually inside a greeting card purchased in February.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Born in the Victorian era in 1806, Elizabeth Barrett Moulton-Barrett was the eldest of 12 children. A studious child, she read constantly and was clearly advanced for her age. Elizabeth was home schooled and spent her childhood at Hope End in Herefordshire. At the age of ten, Barrett Browning had already started writing her own poetry and her father called her the poet laureate of Hope End.

During her teenage years, this young poet read Wollstonecraft’s Vindication of the Rights of Woman and became a passionate supporter of Wollstonecraft’s views. Knowing that she had no chance of the type of education that was bestowed upon her brothers, she still persisted. She also opposed slavery and published two poems on the subject, although, much of her wealth came from slave labour and her father believed that the abolition of slavery would ruin his business. But it was in Wimpole Street in London that she wrote her best poetry and in 1844, her volume of poetry made one of the most popular writers in England.

The dedication in Wimpole Street London.

 

Robert Browning was an admirer of her work and wrote to her of it.  Thus began their relationship. After a secret courtship and a private marriage, they honeymooned in Paris where they probably spent hours reading poetry to each other.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning passed on in 1861. Her Sonnet XLIII or How do I Love Thee, is possibly one of the most romantic poems to date and the envy of greeting card poets everywhere. It came to light Once upon a time in an age where education was somewhat elusive to women and romantic poetry was a man’s forte. But this work will outshine others in its genre in many ways, you can count them if you like.

What art thou Faustus, but a man condemned to die?

Christopher Marlowe

I always feel a sense of accomplishment when I visit a place that has a history of more than one writer.  When I researched Canterbury, I discovered that this incredible cathedral city had a lot more to it than I originally thought.  My discovery was kind of like a coup for me. Of course I needed to do a little more work for this entry, but the rest was much closer to home. 

His name is everywhere in Canterbury

The popular playwright Christopher Marlowe was baptised on the 26^th of February 1564. His birthdate was not recorded but he was like to have been born just a few days before hand. He attended the prestigious King’s School in Canterbury and then on to Corpus Christi in Cambridge. Marlowe never married, but did spend a lot of time in getting into fights. Perhaps if he’d found himself a wife, he might have been around a bit longer.

Several plays were written by Marlowe, but the most well-known would probably be The Tragicall History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus. This was the first dramatised version of a faustian pact. Faustus made a deal with the devil for knowledge and power.

The Marlowe Theatre above and the Marlow Statue below

If you compare the popularity of Christopher Marlowe and Justin Bieber, they’d probably be about equal - in their respective times of course.  But none the less, I couldn’t imagine Bieber getting into a pub brawl which is what Marlowe did on the night that he died.  Stabbed in a pub in Deptford after a drunken evening, or was he?

Conspiracy theory

Whilst enjoying a relaxing boat ride on the river Stour, the oarsman and tour guide Tom, told us of the conspiracy theory relating to the death of Christopher Marlowe.  It is thought that Marlowe staged his death because he was under suspicion for spying for the French.  He may have fled the country and lived in Europe for some time after. There are those who think he continued to write and send his plays to his good friend William Shakespeare. When you consider what Shakespeare has written, one might wonder how someone who never travelled out of England could write of places he had never seen. Then you might wonder also how Bram Stoker could conjure up one of the most popular gothic tales in history when he never visited the Carpathians. I guess when it comes to the Marlowe conspiracy; you either believe it or you don’t. I would never discredit Shakespeare so that kind of makes me a nonbeliever. However, it does make me wonder.

To add fuel to the fire, in St Nicholas’ churchyard in Deptford there is a plaque on the wall which signifies that Marlowe’s remains are buried close by.  It’s an ordinary looking piece of marble which has been etched carefully to state the above.  It seems strange that someone who was so popular didn’t have his gravesite marked which kind of enhances the conspiracy theory, but I’m still not fully convinced.

The plaque in St Nicholas' Churchyard

According to history, Christopher Marlowe was killed in a pub brawl in Deptford in 1593 at the age of 29. He was stabbed by Ingram Frizer, who was known in those times as a swindler. For those of us who weren’t there, I guess we have to make up our own minds of which story we believe and although this one leaves up questioning, I am certain that Once upon a time in England, there lived a talented author who had a flair for storytelling, but whether he died on that fateful night in 1593 will for some remain a mystery.

In search of a “Little bear lost”

Mary Tourtel

For those of you who read my blog regularly, you’ll realise that I’ve been blogging for a year now. So, this week’s blogspedition had to be a little bit special.  After a lot of research and some careful journey planning on my part, I set of at 7:20am to visit one of the most beautiful places I’ve seen to date.  When I lived in Australia, I worked in Canterbury and when you work in a place you kind of get a picture in your head of what a city of the same name in another country might look like.  I was completely wrong of course and the Canterbury that I visited in Kent was quite different to the Melbourne suburb that I once worked in.

In Stour Street Canterbury there is a museum which has a section dedicated to a character that has been around for over 90 years and this beloved bear is so popular that he has had no less than six writers to date.

Plaque on the house in Palace Street Canterbury

Mary Tourtel created the character by the name of Rupert Bear, and the comic strip was first published in the Daily Express in 1920. Tourtel who was born Mary Caldwell in 1874 studied at the Sidney Cooper school of art in Canterbury.  She married Herbert Tourtel who was the editor of the newspaper and Rupert Bear was created to compete against other comic strips in rival newspapers. When Rupert first went to print, he was brown, but they changed his colour to white to cut expenses. Tourtel drew Rupert until her eyesight failed her in 1935.

Part of the museum exhibition - Tourtel creating her comic strip

If you have the opportunity to visit the museum, you’re in for a treat.  The displays are interactive and they have story time there too.  I was lucky enough to catch a rehearsal and I think it’s something everybody would enjoy. There are a few glass case exhibitions, but nothing too boring as this part of the museum really is for kids – and the young at heart.

Rupert Bear Book

Rupert Bear isn’t just a comic strip anymore.  There are books, games, puzzles and of course television shows about his adventures.  I remember years ago my nanna bought a Rupert Bear book for my brother.  I was kind of jealous at the time, but he let me read it. It never occurred to me at the time that I would visit the actual place where the bear was created. 

The headstone of the Tourtel's grave

Mary Tourtel passed away in 1946 and is buried with her husband Herbert in St Martin’s Churchyard. I wonder what she would think about Rupert’s popularity if she were still around.  This phenomenally successful character has won the hearts of children for such a long time and I’m sure that this will continue for many years to come.

Plaque on the house in Ivy Lane Canterbury

I really enjoy the research and travel that goes into my blog and I’m thankful to those of you who take the time to read it. When I visit somewhere that I haven’t been before, it reminds me that the world is a big place with so much to discover. So on the first anniversary of my blog let me finish by saying that Once upon a time in Canterbury, I found not only the bear I was searching for, but another beautiful city worth telling you about.

You have chosen the roughest road, but it leads straight to the hilltops.

John Bunyan

When you write something, take for example this blog, you write for not only yourself, but for others who are interested in the same things you are. Whether you reach the desired market isn’t just up to you, there are a lot of variables.  It might be that people just don’t want to read full stop, or they’re just not interested in the subject. Or it may just be a case of not discovering the work. If you believe that everybody is just going to like what you write about, then you’re sadly mistaken.

This week, we’re going on a journey, but not like my trip to Romania. This is more of a spiritual jaunt into the life of a man who was deeply religious and spent his life preaching to the masses, both in person and in pen.

In 1628, a child by the name of John Bunyan was born. Now as the records for that particular time are slightly sketchy, there is no clear cut information on whether he actually attended school formally or was home schooled. This isn’t so important though as he showed a high level of literacy which indicates to me that he wanted to learn.

A tinker by trade, John married a girl who had been orphaned and left only two books by her father. It was those particular books that influenced John into turning to religion. That and of course the voices that he constantly heard – one was supposed to have been the voice of God himself. This led to discussions with members of a nonconformist sect and he was accepted into an independent church.

John Bunyan rose up through the ranks of the church and he wrote religious books and preached in the street without a licence which led to his arrest. As they could not contain him, he continued to preach, but as England returned to Anglicanism due to the restoration of the monarchy, John was soon arrested again and this time, he went to prison. Now I’m not particularly religious, but I don’t recall ‘Thou shalt not spread the good word,’ being one of the Ten Commandments. However, the law is the law.

Statue of Bunyan in Southampton Row London

Of course, in the 1600’s prison wasn’t quite what it is now and these quite times led to him writing a book called The Pilgrim’s Progress. I remember both of my sons having this book.  I think they received it from the Religious Education teacher on separate occasions.  Whether or not they read it is another story entirely.  The book is interesting as it’s written in two parts, kind of the like the Bible. The earliest edition of the two parts together was printed in 1728.

If you follow the story of Christian, you’ll find it full of temptations and choices.  Throughout the book he meets characters such as Help and Goodwill but there are also the darker characters such as Wanton and Envy. These are exactly as they sound and it’s all very ‘stay on the straight and narrow and don't be tempted by evil.’ There are lessons to be learned and a lot you can relate to everyday life as we know it now. I myself have on several occasions met Mrs Inconsiderate and Mr Feeble-Mind. However, the names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Whether or not you like religion, this story is classic literature and has influenced writers such as Mark Twain and C.S. Lewis. There have been references to The Pilgrim’s Progress in other classics such as Little Women and Jane Eyre. I kind of think that it’s one of those books that should be on a bucket list and if you haven’t read it, you’ll probably find it on the used book shelf of a second hand store.

John Bunyan's grave - Bunhill Fields London

John Bunyan passed away in 1688 and hopefully went to a better place. During his sixty years, he chose a twisted path with ups and downs to reach his final destination. We can all learn something from his life and I for one have learnt that Once upon a time in a prison cell, a man turned the one thing he was arrested for into classic literature and although they did really like what he was writing about, John Bunyan got his way in the end.

I was indeed awake and among the Carpathians

Bram Stoker

I think I was about thirteen when I first fell in love. The memory that I’m recalling was of a movie that I saw part of at a high school fete. After that day, obsessed with an immortal being, I promised myself that one day I would travel to the country of the origin of the vampire. I’ve read so many stories about vampires, that it almost stops my heart just thinking about the hours I’ve spent devouring sentence after sentence. So when I had the chance to visit Transylvania in Romania, I naturally took it.

The vampire is one of the lustier horrors in this world and although they’re blood sucking killers, they’re captivatingly evocative. There have been so many novels written about these night stalkers, but I only have one in mind at the moment and that particular book is of course, Dracula.

 

Bram Stoker the creator of this particular devil was born Abraham Stoker on the 8^th of November 1847. An Irishman, he grew up on the north side of Dublin and was the third of seven children. Stoker had an illness that kept him bedridden until he started school at the age of seven when he made a full recovery. He was educated at a private school and then Trinity College where he became interested in the theatre. His work as a critic for the Dublin Evening Mail was well received due to the calibre of the reviews, and a favourable review of Henry Irving’s Hamlet earned him an opportune friendship.

At the Lyceum Theatre in London there is a plaque dedicated to Irving and Stoker honouring the work they both did there, and it was  whilst working at this theatre that Stoker wrote the book Dracula. This is the book that introduced both the characters Dracula and Abraham Van Helsing to the world and this is in my opinion, possibly the best vampire book of all time.  It’s a collection of several characters diaries and letters about the infamous Count and when you read it, you kind of think that they can’t all be wrong, there has to be something to this. So I travelled to Transylvania myself.

Communism was like a stake in the heart of Romania and it left the country poor and unforgiving. As I journeyed through the countryside and saw the abandoned farms and burnt out houses, I felt a sadness that put things into perspective for me.  Naturally I was excited about my epic quest, but I kind of felt that I had taken my life for granted and that I should count my blessings.  As I looked out of the train window at the Carpathians capped in snow, I began to think about how Jonathan Harker felt as he travelled towards the castle in the mountains. Obviously we were travelling from different directions as he made his trek from Budapest and I was training it from Bucharest, but we kind of had a similar goal. Now I know that vampires are folklore and that Stoker’s original ideal came from a mix of Vlad the Impaler and the dark stories of the Carpathians, but it’s fun to think that these creatures might actually exist. I can also reveal that Bram Stoker never travelled to Transylvania, but I also find it amusing to know that thousands of tourists flock to Bran Castle every year because of the notorious legend.

Bran Castle promoted as Dracula's Castle.

After one night in Bucharest and the second in Brasov, I caught the bus to Bran. The bus fare was a tiny seven Lei which is about one pound forty. I saw a few villages along the way, but none quite as alluring as Bran.  The Castle can be seen from the main road and it’s amazing. It kind of juts out above the rock and has some incredible views from the windows and balconies. The castle has been maintained well and is now a major tourist attraction.  I don’t think either Vlad Tepes or Dracula ever lived there, but I had a fantastic feeling as I walked through the castle doors and fulfilled a lifelong dream and would gladly return to Transylvania as Harker did, but not to stake a vampire.

Before taking the trek to the Carpathians, I revisited the book Dracula just as a refresh.  The copy I have is kind of special because it was a gift from my eldest son Brendan. Both of my boys know how much I love the un-dead.

Bram Stoker passed away on the 20^th of April in 1912 and was cremated at Golders Green Crematorium in London where his ashes are on display in an urn. During his lifetime he created one of the most evil and seductive characters in literary history which brings me to say that Once upon a time in Transylvania, my dream came true and although both Bram Stoker and Vlad Tepes are gone, the legend of Dracula lives on.