31st March

On this day in 1905, Dr Arthur Conan Doyle had to resurrect his brilliant detective hero, Sherlock Holmes. Everybody thought the world's greatest detective had gone over the Reichenbach Falls with Dr Moriarty, arch villain and the 'Napoleon of Crime'. Sadly, no. The good doctor claimed an adoring public demanded Holmes' return, but I think he had a tax bill due.

In other news ...
Richard Chamberlain was born on this day in 1935. I remember watching Dr Kildare as a kid and was fascinated by rhe actor's ability to stop dead in the middle of whatever he was doing. This was a long time before they invented the Freeze-frame technology, so, good on you, Richard. You were ahead of your time.

30th March

One of the screen's great hero baddies died today in 1986. He was a song and dance man straight out of Vaudeville but made his name in gangster movies with a wise-cracking style and a line everybody can do - 'You dirty rat!' If you want to see the late, great James Cagney at his best, watch his Shake Hands With the Devil in which he plays a deranged IRA member and Angels With Dirty Faces - that walk to the electric chair  can't fail to bring tears to your eyes.

In other news ...

The Spanish artist Francisco Goya was born today in 1746. He's the guy who painted Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington, who used to appear on English money before they started using various ever-more-obscure people who had something-or-other to do with the Industrial Revolution. Goya's sketches of Wellington's war in Spain are horrific, with arms and legs hanging in trees. He painted a pretty spooky witch or two as well.

Even the Head of Art at Leighford High has heard of him, so he must be famous!

29th March

Back in 1886, Dr John Pemberton came out with a corker. It was March 29 and he thought the world - or at least Allanton, Georgia - was ready for a drink that could cure hysteria, the common cold and just about everything in between. It was an 'Esteemed Brain Tonic' (for esteemed brains only) and an 'Intellectual Beverage' (which is why the Mem and I drink it and Eight Eff Pee never touch the stuff). It was made from caffeine, syrup and Coca leaves. It was called - you guessed it - Syrup of Figs.
Lovely.

In other news ...
This one must float to the top in the What-Was-That-All-About stakes. Today in 1989, to commemorate two hundred years of mass guillotinings, President Francois Mitterand unveiled a glass 'thing' in front of the Louvre. Astonishingly, bearing in mind the scorn the pyramid drew, it's not only still there but actually featured in the movie The Da Vinci Code.

You couldn't make it up, could you? That's because Dan Brown did.

28th March

One of the biggest b*****s in British history died today in 1868. He was James Brudenell, the 7th Earl of Cardigan and he is famous for leading the Charge of the Light Brigade down the wrong valley at Balaclava during the Crimean War. He was arrogant, impetuous and deeply stupid, buying his way through the cavalry ranks with his enormous private income. His men quite liked him; to them he was Jim the Bear because he growled a lot. His officers detested him however and he made their lives hell just because he could. he should never have been given a regiment to command, still less a cavalry brigade.

Ironically, he died from a fall from his horse.

In other news ...
the British Navy sank 7 Italian warships on this day in 1941 at the battle of Matapan, off Crete. The British suffered no losses and the battle is commemorated every year during the Six Nations Rugby competition when there is always a similar scoreline between Fortress Twickenham and the Azzurri.

27th March

Today in 1964 a gang of old lags who had robbed a train were sentenced to 307 years imprisonment. known as the Great Train Robbers, although neither they nor the train were particularly great, they'll be out, with good behaviour in 2264. And the £2.6 million they stole will be worth £47.16.

As my good lady wife constantly reminds me, crime doesn't pay.

In other news ...

A great tragedy took place today in 1968 and a great irony too. Yuri Gagarin was the first astronaut to orbit the earth in a brilliant achievement that won the admiration of the world. But he died in a car crash near Moscow. It's probably safer in Space.

Or Slough, as it turns out - figures out today quote Slough as the safest place to drive. The town has recently decommissioned its speed cameras. Hmmmm ....

As White Surrey's top speed has never bothered a speed camera I am not really qualified to comment on things motoring, but I think 'I told you so' fits the bill!

26th March

Today in 1923 the great Sarah Bernhardt took her exit. having her leg amputated as a result of a fall in Tosca, she had a wooden one fitted and continued to act all sorts of roles, male and female. she appeared on more Art Nouveau posters than you've had hot dinners and slept in a coffin.

They don't make them like her any more.

In other news ...
Leonard Nimoy was born today in 1931. yes, he was often the baddie in various TV westerns but rose to fame as Mr Spock, the Vulcan baby expert in Star Trek. It must have been very difficult to hide those pointy ears before this role called for it; hence, I suppose, the westerns. A stetson covers little deformities like that.

May he live long and prosper.

25th March

Parliament abolished the slave trade on this day in 1807. The prime mover here was William Wilberforce who had been banging his head against an uncaring system for years. It would be another quarter of a century before the owning of slaves was abolished and then, the former owners were paid a fortune in compensation.

(For any Year Tens reading this, thank a teacher ... sorry, wrong slogan. I mean, should you be worrying about that essay on slavery now scarily near its deadline, there are several excellent films you can watch and pretend to your parents you are working. One is the splendid Amistad, the other Amazing Grace.)

A pity the Americans didn't follow suit however. Hanging on to the 'peculiar institution' of slavery until 1863 cost them a civil war which was the bloodiest in American history.

Next time, dudes, take a leaf out of our book.

In other news ...

You've probably seen the excellent film The Last King of Scotland in which the late and unlamented Ugandan dictator Idi Amin strides around in a kilt and glengarry. Because of what happened today in 1306 somebody should start shooting another epic called The First Australian King of Scotland.

Why?

Because today in 1306 the eighth earl of Carrick took the Scots throne. His name was Robert the Bruce.

24th March

Queen Elizabeth I (Gloriana to her friends) died today in 1603 ushering out the Tudors and ushering in the Stuarts. Her last words were 'All my possessions for a moment of time'. Which got me thinking about last words generally. There was Prime Minister William Pitt's 'I could just eat one of Mrs Bellamy's meat pies'. There was General Robert E Lee's 'Strike the tents!'

And we mustn't forget Harold Godwinson's famous line at Hastings just before the arrow got him - 'Things are definitely looking up.' Some people of course claim that his last words were 'Watch that bloke with the bow and arrow - he could have somebody's eye out' - but that would be plain silly.

In other news ...

Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery hung up his baton today in 1976. He was an arrogant so-and-so who for reasons best known to himself wore an RAF flying jacket and a beret with two badges. If that doesn't scream schizophrenia, I don't know what does. Every member of his 8th Army I've ever met, not excepting my dear old dad, hated him.

But he won battles.

23rd March

On this day in 1925 the state of Tennessee decided that the theory of evolution should not be taught in schools because it was contrary to scriptures. All the other subjects were also banned because there was no specific reference to them in the Bible. Except Maths (oops, sorry, Math) because of the Book of Numbers.

In other news ...
Pedro the Cruel of Castile and Leon was murdered on this day in 1369 on the orders of his brother Henry, the Even More Cruel. Their mother, Isabella the Outrages, was appalled (told you she would be) especially since she had hoped the crown would pass to her youngest son, Rodrigo the Utterly Unprincipled.

In more personal news, DI Mrs Carpenter-Maxwell would like to thank her many well-wishers and she is happy to announce the impending happy event of her plaster removal, next Monday, all being well and taking into account following winds, hordes of magpies, not walking under ladders and other arcane behaviour. Speaking personally, I won't miss the demise of half a ton of cast which has reliably called me into wakefulness several times a night by clouting me round the head for the last five weeks. Nolan is looking forward to a two-armed cuddle. Metternich is the only one who will lose out - his Mistress's enforced rest-time while Mrs Troubridge and I have been busy with the housekeeping has given him lap-opportunities hitherto only dreamed of.

22nd March

Anthony van Dyck was born today in 1599. Famous for his court portraits of Charles I. He later went on the star in his father's long-running TV series Diagnosis Murder.


In other news ...
Today in 1906 the first international rugby match took place with England beating France 35-0. The England team had already scored pretty heavily at Crecy, Poitiers, Agincourt, Ramillies, Malplaquet, Sahagun, Badajoz, Toulouse and Waterloo. An earlier result at Hastings, where the French unaccountably won, was deemed to be because they played with the roof open.

21st March

The Lord Chief Justice, Herbert Parker, gave the world a fascinating insight into the psyche of judges today in 1961. He said, 'A judge is not supposed to know anything about the facts of life until they have been presented in evidence and explained to him at least three times.'
This was also the time when another judge asked the jury in his summing up in the obscenity case concerning D H Lawrence's Lady Chatterley's Lover whether this was a book you would allow your servants to read. Both judges were practising when the death penalty still operated in Britain.

Scary, isn't it?

In other news ...
On this day in 1908, the aviator Henri Farman flew over Paris with the first ever air passenger on board his aircraft. There is no truth in the rumour that the man was bound and gagged or that he was suicidal.

He was just high as a kite.

20th March

One of the most influential books of all time went on sale today in 1852. It was Harriet Beecher Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin which was a tear-jerker set in a slave plantation in the Deep South. Queen Victoria read it and wept buckets. There is no doubt that the book, very widely read in the United States, had a powerful effect on the tensions already running high in America. Mrs Beecher Stowe had never seen a plantation in her life, so we have to raise questions about the book's accuracy. President Lincoln summed it up best with his famous words when he met her. 'So you're the little woman who started this great war of ours.'
Didn't mince words, did Honest Abe.

In other news ...
Another American book hit the headlines today in 1841. It was Edgar Allen Poe's The Murder in the Rue Morgue, one of the first detective stories that launched a genre. Poe himself was an odd character, obsessed with the macabre and died a hopeless alcoholic in a Baltimore street wearing somebody else's clothes (but that's another story).

The Rue Morgue is a great page turner, but today, no doubt, some of the mystery would have been removed by the inevitable subtitle spoiler - The Murders in the Death Street; the Monkey Did It.

(Apologies to any of you who didn't know the monkey did it ... rather like the policeman in the Mousetrap it is fairly obvious once you know.)

(Apologies to any of you who didn't know the policeman did it ...)

19th March

The Tolpuddle Martyrs went down today in 1834. George and James Loveless and five of their farm labourer mates were sentenced to seven years' transportation to Botany Bay in Australia. Their crime? They joined a branch of the Grand National Consolidated Trade Union in an attempt to improve the pitiful wages paid to labourers. Local Dorset farmers connived with the county's magistrates to find a way to punish the men because, technically, joining a Trade Union was not illegal.
They came up with administering (taking) of illegal oaths, which was a crime under the 1797 Mutiny Act. According to the law at the time, the Martyrs had no opportunity to defend themselves in court and could not afford a lawyer. ~one of them died in Australia before public outrage brought the survivors back. It would be forty years before anybody tried to set up another union for farm workers and the conspiracy of landowners and magistrates would continue for much longer.

In other news ...
Edgar Rice Burroughs, the creator of Tarzan of the Apes, died today in 1950. His 70 novels had been translated into 56 languages and more than 100 million copies had been sold. On his gravestone they wrote Tarzan's immortal words - 'AAAAAAAAARRGHHYYAAAAAA!'

Who could ask for a finer epitaph?

18th March

An Austrian army defeated a French Revolutionary one at Neerminden today in 1793. This was the last time Austria won anything, except possibly a Eurovision Song Contest.

In other news ...
The first telephone line was set up between London and Paris today in 1891. The conversation (which was recorded for training purposes) went like this:

• Hello?
• Allo?
• Hello? Can you hear me?
• Allo?
• Can ... you ... hear ... me?
• Allo?
• CAN ... YOU ... HEAR ... ME?

Merde!

17th March

Gottleib Daimler was born today in 1834. He was one of the many pioneers of the motor car and aren't we all  grateful that cars were named after their inventors' surnames rather than Christian names, otherwise we'd have had, along with the fabulous Gottleibs, Henrys, Charleses, Karls, Andre-Gustaves and Edsels ... oh, wait a minute, there really was an Edsel.

You take my point.

In other news ...
It's one of those irritating pub quiz questions; who invented the elastic band? The answer is Stephen Perry, who was born today in 1845. One wonders why he did it. I'd like to think it was to twang bits of screwed up paper around a classroom to annoy his teachers, but it couldn't have been because, looking at his dates, one of them would have (quite rightly) beaten him to death.

16th March

On this day way back in 1792, Tipu Sahib surrendered to the British. He was Sultan of Mysore in southern India and had all his guns made in Britain (as you do when you're fighting against the most industrialised nation on earth). He was defeated by General Cornwallis who had surrendered to the Americans at Yorktown a few years earlier (nice to know he could win something). Check out (as Cornwallis's victors say) the mechanical toy called Tipu's Tiger. It's a metal lifesize tiger clawing a white man to death and before somebody lost the key it could move its front paws and growl.

Awesome.

In other news ...
Two hundred and ten years ago a military college for gentlemen was founded at West Point along the Hudson River. It's gratifying to know that cadets still wear the grey tail-coat and shako of the 1820s and that West Point produced some of America's worst soldiers (Custer) and best ( ... erm ...).

15th March

A few days ago, I popped in to our local soothsayer, who warned me to watch my back today, it being the Ides of March.

Hang on ... Somebody at the door ....

Apparently, it's Casca, just wants a word. I'll be back shortly ...

14th March

Karl Marx died on this day in London in 1883. His friend and co-writer Friedrich Engels described him as the 'best-hated man of his time' and that was before the Americans had ever heard of him. His book, The Communist Manifesto. written in German in London in 1848 is very short, very repetitive and has one good line - 'You have nothing to lose but your chains'. As a blueprint for revolution (as tried out by Lenin, Trotsky etc) it doesn't work. As an appeal to human nature it fails too. As for Marx himself, he spent most of his later life scrounging off Engels and has a truly awful tombstone in London's otherwise fantastic Highgate Cemetery.

Marx out of 10? 1.5

In other news ...

On this day 48 years ago dodgy nightclub owner Jack Ruby was found guilty of murdering Lee Harvey Oswald, the presumed assassin of JFK in Dealey Plaza, Dallas five months earlier. If Ruby wasn't part of a conspiracy himself then his removal of Oswald goes beyond the criminal. Had Oswald stood trial we might all know what happened that day in Dallas and a whole JFK industry would never have been born.

Ruby's motive in shooting Oswald at point blank range in front of TV cameras when Oswald was in police custody was 'I did it for Jackie Kennedy'. 

Yeah, right.

13th March

The French claimed the first ever professional striptease act took place on this day in the Davan Fourneau Music Hall in Paris in 1894. Alas the Hebrews beat them to it by nearly 2000 years because Salome was constantly taking her clothes off at the time of Christ. To be fair, though, if we accept the definition of professional as getting paid for it, Salome was the stepdaughter of a king and didn't need the money. Instead, she settled for payment in kind - 'Bring me the head of the Davan Fourneau Music Hall in Paris,'  she cried.

In other news ...
Russian revolutionaries blew off the legs of Tsar Alexander II today in 1881. The first bomb missed his carriage as he travelled the streets of St Petersburg but the second was thrown as he stopped to ask after the injured. As a result, his son postponed implementing any of Russia's much-needed reforms indefinitely, even though Alexander had already freed the serfs and was promising to implement democracy.
So, who caused the Russian Revolution of 1917? The Narodnya extremists back in 1881.

12th March

When I was a young shaver a couple of Americans wrote and performed a song called Mrs Robinson. This was voted record of the year today in 1969 and we all went to see the unknown Dustin Hoffman in The Graduate where it appeared again. So did Mrs Robinson, played by the deliciously naughty Anne Bancroft.
So thanks, guys, to Messrs Simon and Garfunkel, Hoffman and Bancroft for making a young man very happy.
'Here's to you, Mrs Robinson!'

In other news ...
The British army occupied Bordeaux today in 1813 under the command of Arthur Wellesley, the Viscount Wellington (he got the Dukedom later). This was the memorable occasion when he said of his sweating, grunting infantry 'I don't know what effect these men will have on the enemy, but by God, they frighten me.'
They frightened the French too and I'm afraid I don't have room today for a list of all their victories.
Ah, the Entente Uncordiale!

11th March

Herman Goering (fat bloke, liked flashy uniforms, friend of Hitler's) said some pretty stupid things in his time but top of the list must be his comment on this day in 1935. Setting up the brand new Luftwaffe (which, by the way, broke the terms of the Treaty of Versailles - again!) he said 'The Americans cannot build aeroplanes. They are very good at refrigerators and razor blades.'
I wonder if he remembered those words when American Flying Fortresses were passing over Berlin and flattening the buildings of Goering's Third Reich. By the time the war was actually over and Germans were avidly buying American fridges and razor blades, Herman the German was dead.

In other news ...
On this day in 1702, England's first daily newspaper, confined to London, appeared. It was called the Daily Courant and had photos pf Queen Anne going walkabout among her subjects. A dream cottage was on offer (subject to terms and conditions) and the editorial carried a bold article on how many illegal Walloons had snuck past emigration authorities. In sporting news there was a blank page because nobody had invented Rugby yet, football was a game played by oafs (no change there, then) and cricketers used a curved bat so that didn't count.
The girl on Page 3 wore more clothes than the average bag lady, which brings is neatly back to Queen Anne.
The editor - of course - was Master Rupert Murdoch.

10th March

On this day in 1974 a Japanese soldier on the island of Lubang in the Philippines finally surrendered. Everybody else had given up on World War II after the Enola Gay and co dropped their bombloads on Nagasaki and Hiroshima, but clearly the news hadn't reached Lubang.
God knows how traumatised this latter day Ben Gunn must have been or how he survived, but his back pay on his war pension must have been stonking!

In other news ...
Ninety eight years ago, Ms Mary Richardson went berserk in the National Gallery. Was it the cost of the delicacies in the tea rooms? The fumes given off by so much gouache and oils? N, Ms Richardson was a Suffragette and was suddenly incensed by the sight of Velasquez' Rokeby Venus. She attacked it with a meat cleaver. No doubt she would claim she did so because that sort of painting degrades women, but it seems a particularly dastardly attack because neither the Venus nor Velasquez could fight back.
I personally believe that Ms Richardson was furious because the Venus had a nicer bum than she did. But it's not my place to say so.

9th March

William Cobbett was born today in 1763. If you've never heard of this guy, shame on you. H wrote a book called Rural Rides in 1824 which was one long whinge against anything new. If you remember Richard Wilson in One Foot In The Grave or you are addicted to Grumpy Old Men, Cobbett's the boy for you. He hated paper money (usually because he didn't have any); the government (although he tried to be part of it); standing armies (even though he was once a soldier); and London (despite the fact that he lived there). He was his own worst enemy and constantly contradicted himself. In one of his brilliant pamphlets he says what brilliant, friendly, freedom loving people the Americans are and in another he says every American town should be burned to the ground.
William Cobbett, King of the U Turn.

In other news ...
The French Foreign Legion was founded today back in 1831. It was a tough outfit, only taking real men like Gary Cooper and Brian Donlevy.  Its unofficial motto was March or Die, although more often than not, that meant March and Die, but at least you were in good old-fashioned black-n-white company.

7th March

Today is International Rhine Crossing day and several thousand will be doing it, the Germans going one way and everybody Else the other. The first crossing took place on this day in 1936 when Nazi troops moved into the Demilitarized Zone that had been set up by the Treaty of Versailles in 1919. Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin told Herr Hitler not to do it again but the Fuhrer couldn't speak English, so it was rather a waste of time.
Exactly nine months later, American troops crossed the river at Remagen with the express intention of shouting a bit louder at the Fuhrer, this time in German so he could understand it.

In other news ...
Today was the day when the enlightened Swiss, originators of yodelling, cheese and national heroes who are whizzo shots with a crossbow gave women the vote. The day was 7 March but what was the year, I hear you cry. 1748? 1812? No, it was 1971, making Swiss men about as enlightened and democratic as Attila the Hun.

6th March

My favourite swordsman of all time was born today in 1619. He was Hercule-Savinien Cyrano de Bergerac, novelist, playwright, poet, scientist and owner of the largest nose in showbiz. He is said to have fought over 1000 duels over insults to his hooter and won them all. As a very young teacher I once played him in a school production and judging by Nolan's prowess with a (mercifully plastic!) blade, he might yet follow in his dad's footsteps in the same role.
If you haven't seen the Jose Ferrer film about the guy, made back in the Fifties, make sure you do. If you haven't seen the Gerard Depardieu remake - keep it that way!

In other news ...
Oscar Strauss was born on this day in 1870. His birthplace was Vienna and he wrote the opera The Chocolate Soldier. But he was totally eclipsed by his Jewish cousin, Levi, who invented jeans.

5th March

The most brilliant fighter plane of all time, the Spitfire, soared over the skies of Britain today in 1936. built by Vickers with a Rolls Royce Merlin engine, the plane was to prove more than a match for the Messerschmidt 109 which Willi of the same name had already brought out in Germany. I remember seeing an advert (which was never shown for fear of upsetting our dearest partners in the EU - how soon they forget) showing a Spitfire doing a victory roll over the White Cliffs of Dover and the voiceover saying 'Because he was there, we don't have to say "Vorsprung durch technik".'

Thank you, RJ Mitchell and all the men (and women) who flew them.

In other news ...
Eighty two years ago, Clarence Birdseye came out with his frozen peas. They were round and green and tasted just like the real thing, only colder. Clarence was a New York food scientist and joined the ranks of other cryo-culinarists such as Alvin Findus and Mervyn McCain to bring us such delights as the 20 second sausage and the 5 second baked potato. To steal a thought from Homer Simpson, reading the back of a ready meal - 5 seconds! How can anybody wait that long?

4th March

On this day back in 1681 Charles II lost it completely. He signed a treaty giving a huge chunk of territory (which didn't belong to him anyway) to a Quaker called William Penn. Not only that but the king wrote off Penn's debts of £16,000 (£29 million today) and effectively gave Penn the power of a dictator. So grateful was the Quaker that he refused to take his hat off in the royal presence, gave the territory the self-effacing name of Pennsylvania (that's Penn's Wood in case you were wondering, Nine Eff Are) and went on to make a famous breakfast cereal from the oats he used to feed his horse.

Detective Inspector Carpenter-Maxwell and I are applying to Her Majesty this very day to get her to cover our mortgage and outgoings and give us Ottawa or failing that New South Wales. If William Penn can do it ...

In other news ...
Saladin died in Damascus today in 1193. His real name was Salah-ed-Din and he was either a nationalist hero or an Arab fundamentalist, depending on your point of view. I go with the first version and there are two stories about him which show what a thorough-going 12th century gent he was. When Richard the Lionheart (psychopath, homosexual - but that's another story) lay seriously ill with fever during the Third Crusade, Saladin sent him snow from the mountains to bring his temperature down. On another occasion, Richard proved he'd recovered by smashing an anvil in half with his broadsword (see - I told you he was a psychopath) while Saladin threw a silk handkerchief in the air and caught it on the blade of his scimitar which slit the handkerchief in half. How stylish is that?

Neither of these stories is true, of course, but wouldn't it be nice if they were?

3rd March

I'm writing this one in a whisper so that I don't upset the cat. You see, on this day in 1848, his namesake, Count Metternich, was overthrown by rebels in Vienna during the Year of Revolutions. All Hell was let loose all over Europe in fact by people demanding the vote, more food, the setting up of republics, more food, the end of aristocracy and the power of the church and more food. Louis Philippe's palace was destroyed the previous month in France. Venice broke away from Austrian control. There were barricades and burnings and running battles in just about every European capital.

Except London. To be fair, we did have a Chartist rally (the Chartists were those lunatics who wanted the vote and five other ludicrous demands) but it was typically British. The petition of 5 million names demanding reform actually contained less than 2 million and they included the Duke of Wellington (who would have put himself through the shredder before allowing any kind of reform) and Victoria Rex (King Victoria). Others were Pug Nose, Big Ears etc. All of which goes to show how seriously we British took our politics. Incidentally, in this rally, there were far more policemen than protesters (David Cameron, are you listening?)

In other news ...

Jean Harlow, the platinum blonde star of the new talkie screen was born today in 1911. Margot Asquith, when addressed by the star as Margotte, replied, 'the "t" is silent, as in Harlot [pronouncing it Harlow, of course].'  But as Temperance Brennan of Bones would say, there is no 't' in Harlow, so that is not only illogical but it is non-consequential and ultimately unamusing. Although we at Maxwell Towers have been known to double up over it. It is one up on the 'pee is silent as in the bath' joke - but not by much.

2nd March

John Wesley died today in 1791. One of a huge family from Epworth in Lincolnshire (the family home is a museum today) Wesley went to Oxford and joined the Holy Club, a group of practical do-gooders at a time when the Church of England, which he also joined was more concerned with lining its own pockets and only worked one day a week. He brought religion to the people at a time when the dear old C of E had largely abandoned them, preaching in the open air in industrial areas. He was autocratic (his enemies called him Pope John) and his medical remedies could kill you, but if you want a moment of pure peace, visit the Methodist chapel in Bristol where he used to preach. The stable for his horse is just next door and amongst the noise and bustle of a modern city, you are transported back to another time.

Way to go, John.

In other news ...
I'm probably a Philistine, but what is it about ballet? The first one to be staged in England, The Loves of Mars and Venus, was performed at a Drury Lane theatre on this day back in 1717. Take a dramatic event - let's say the slave revolt of the gladiator Spartacus - and let's have a load of blokes with no strides on (that's a direct quote from Paul Hogan, by the way) jumping around to music.
Spartacus must be turning in his grave. And don't get me started on Billy Elliott!

1st March

Dewi Sant - St David - what a guy. Patron Saint of Wales. He died in 601 according to the Annales Cambriae (that's Welsh Chronicles to you, Nine Oh Dee) but that wasn't written until the 10th century, so you can't be sure. He was the Bishop of Moni Judeorum (later St David's) in Pembrokeshire and presided over two Welsh synods (church bashes) ...

... Is that it? You don't have to do much to be a patron saint these days, do you?

In other news ...

One of the most over-rated books of all time hit French newsstands today in 1555. It was called the Book of Centuries and was written by Michel de Notre Dame, better known by his Latin monicker Nostradamus. In this mischievous piece of nonsense, believed in implicitly by millions worldwide, is a series of predictions including the Great Fire of London (inevitable in a city built on too small an area and almost entirely of wood); the French Revolution (they'd already had several by Nostradamus' time); the rise of Hitler (from a country that had already produced Attila the Hun). In short, nothing surprising at all. as somebody once said, isn't it strange, if Nostradamus was such a know-all, that he didn't see fit to warn us about Pot Noodles.

And there's something even spookier. Did you notice the book was published in 1555? That's not only nearly the Number of the Beast, it's also, according to TV cop shows, the telephone number of everybody in America.

Coo.

But seriously, if you, my sensible follower, know anyone worried by Nostradamus, Mother Shipton, Mayan prophecies and the rest - steer them to Good Omens by Gaiman and Pratchett, for a hilarious alternative look at prophecy and the end of days. Even if they are still worried when they have read it, they will at least have had a laugh.