31st July

Cigarette commercials were banned today in 1965 on British television. This was a great shame because they all revolved around the suave and sophisticated and were great fun. Only jet-setting playboys such as Peter Stuyvesant and fascinating blokes in trench coats were ever alone with their Strands.

What do we have now? Tobacco kiosks in supermarkets with shutters down and sad old addicts hanging around pub doorways, inhaling desperately.

Isn't it about time our kind and caring society made lepers out of other minority groups, like vegans and global warmers?

And, just so you know (as recorded messages constantly remind us), I am not and never have been a smoker, although I was brought up by parents who, on waking, reached for their fags, their glasses and their teeth in that order.

In other news ...
Franz Liszt died today. So did Ignatius Loyola and Jim Reeves.

What is going on.

30th July

It was WW1 and WW2 all over again today in 1966 when England beat Germany 4-2 in the World Cup. England was ahead 2-1 until the last minute when there was a German equalizer (think Arnhem, 1944). Alf Ramsay, the England Manager, said to his boys, 'Well, you've won it once. Now you'll just have to do it all over again and you will. The Germans are knackered.'

And so it proved (see Anthony Beevor's Berlin) in 1945.

In other news ...
The Parkinson family were in the news again today with the birth of Northcote in 1909. He was the one who coined the idea of Parkinson's Law - Work expands so as to fill the time available for its completion. His dad invented the handle of the condition and his granddad, Michael, is still churning out insurance ads on the telly. And perhaps it is time someone told him he is nowhere as cute as a meerkat (although in his defence he is also infinitely less irritating than a tenor).

29th July

One of those great non events of History took place today in 1588. The largest invasion force ever unleashed against England, the Armada, was on its way and one of the fleet commanders, Francis Drake, insisted on playing bowls rather than getting out there to intercept it.

The bowls story may well be pure fiction, but if the Armada had managed to link up with the army of the Duke of Parma waiting in the Netherlands and then landed in England, Drake would stand condemned today as the vainglorious idiot he was and you would be reading this in Spanish.

In other news ...
Poor old David Niven shuffled off the mortal coil today in 1983. The quintessential Englishman, his on-screen officer and gentleman roles, his little moey and charming smile totally belied the fact that he was a quintessential Englishman, with a little moey and a charming smile

28th July

The History of the Potato is a fascinating subject (no - seriously, it is). Like tobacco, nobody can quite agree when, how or where the very first came to Europe. One theory is that Walter Ralegh (inventor, as every schoolboy knows, of the bicycle) brought tubers back from his back-packing tour of America, planted them on his Irish estate near Cork - allegedly today in 1586 - and intended to feed them to his animals. Gardeners - please don't write in. I know that 28th of July is a rubbish date for planting potatoes, but the books say it is today, so what can you do?

Anyway, I have tried this animal food thing out on my feline companion of a mile, the Count; and whereas he is perfectly happy to nosh any leftover fish, he won't touch chips with a bargepole. So, sorry, Sir Walter, back to the drawing board I'm afraid. Stick with what you know - sea-faring, exploring and knocking off ladies of the queen's bedchamber.

In other news ...
Beatrix Potter, creator of Peter Rabbit et al, was born today in 1866. I'd like to expose her as a pot-smoking Satanist, blackmailer and arsonist, but alas, she was just a really lovely lady with a great artistic skill and a good line in stories for kids.

Damn!

27th July

Before I start, let's get one thing absolutely straight. This blog is going to be a completely Olympic free zone. There will be no breast beating when we lose, not hurrahs when we win. I will not be commenting on how totally fabulous the opening ceremony was, how our brave boys and girls are doing in the rifle shooting, volleyball, synchronised swimming or what have you. So - now you know.

Today in 1789, Thomas Jefferson was made head of the new Department of Foreign Affairs of the United States government. This was a big mistake. The guy they should have given the job to was Benjamin Franklin, because he had affairs all over Europe already (ask any paid-up debauchee of the Hell-fire Club).

In other news ...
Congratulations to Gregory LeMond who won the Tour de France today in 1986. As an American, he was the first non-European to win, but check out the name. Obviously the organizers were a little confused!

Changing his name slightly, he has become an expert on Bargain Hunt, one of Detective Inspector Mrs Carpenter-Maxwell's secret guilty pleasures. I'll get it in the neck for letting this one out, but I'm sorry, DI Mrs C-M, the truth sometimes has to be told!

26th July

'It is uncertain,' wrote Eugene Radin today in 1990, 'whether the development and spread of electronic and computer technology will increase the spread of literacy or diminish the need for it ...'

I told you then, Everyone, and I'm telling you again - the latter. Except that there is never a situation in which literacy is unnecessary. Computers spread literacy like the Nazis spread goodwill and tolerance.

Charles Babbage, may you rot in Hell!
(PS - I hope you're not reading this on a computer ...)

In other news ...
Today in 1908 the FBI was set up by Attorney General Charles J Bonaparte (short bloke, conquered a lot of places) to investigate land grabbers and bent big business. Their later boss, J Edgar Hoover, had a natty line in frocks and subsequent agents like Sealey Booth seem to spend all their time on our television screens. And don't even get me started on weirdos like Scully, Mulder, K and J.

I can remember a time when G Men told you the time and helped old ladies across the street.

25th July

The Scottish chemist Charles Macintosh died today in 1843. He invented a waterproof outer garment, the name of which is now completely forgotten.

In other news ...
Walter Brennan was born today in 1894. He was that toothless old hombre in a million B-feature westerns who wore silly outsize stetsons, was usually drunk and teamed up with the hero. He also used the noms-de-screen of Arthur Hunnicutt, Gabby Hayes and Trigger, Roy Roger's horse.

24th July

President Richard Nixon said today in 1969 (of the moon landing) 'This is the greatest week in the history of the world since the creation ... oh, except the week in which Christ was born. And the one that saw the birth of Mohammed and that Buddha guy. Not to mention sliced bread, the wheel and salt and vinegar potato chips.' But we got the general gist.

In other news ...
Pierre de Coubertin, called by some the father of the modern Olympics, said today in 1908, 'The most important thing in the Olympic Games is not winning but boasting to the world that your country can host them and then discovering your security is run by the WI and the St John's Ambulance Brigade.'

Prophetic words.

23rd July

Raymond Chandler hit the world today back in 1888. He was a scrawny kid, kinda small and kinda pink, but he didn't take no nonsense from the broads and got ten to twenty in Leavenworth for refusin' to have his diaper changed.

In other news ...
Today in 1940, the LDV ('Look, Duck and Vanish') had their name changed to the Home Guard. They were the boys who would stop Hitler's little game had the Germans succeeded in landing in Britain that summer. As it was, they were the forerunners of one of the most popular and longest running sitcoms of all time.

Although I was always led to believe that the fictional Warmington in which the series was set was actually Goering-am-Zee.

'Go' as our American Allies who didn't join the war for eighteen months would say, 'figure'.

22nd July

The most famous telegram of all time was sent today, by Captain Kendall, in connection with an infamous murder - 'Have strong suspicions that Crippen, London cellar murderer and accomplice are amongst saloon passengers ... travelling as Mr and Master Robinson'.

And indeed they were. 'Master Robinson' was Ethel le Neve, H H Crippen's secretary and lover. The telegram was forwarded to Scotland Yard and Chief Inspector Walter Dew duly arrested them both. Crippen was hanged. All this took place in 1910 but now we know that the supposed body of Mrs Crippen found in the cellar of the Crippen home in London's Hilldrop Crescent, was actually a man. So the damning evidence against Crippen was false and the actions of Dew in arresting him and Kendall of reporting his whereabouts are culpable. And don't get me started on Bernard Spilsbury!

In other news ...
Sir Mortimer Wheeler died today in 1976. If you don't know who he was, you are under fifty or should be ashamed of yourself. He was the first television archaeologist and always carried out his digs in a three-piece suit and bow tie. He did not have wild flowing hair, a silly hat or a patronizing tone and never had only three days to complete an assignment.

21st July

The Eagle landed today in 1969 when America became the first country to put its astronauts on the moon. Conspiracy theorists of course claim that the filmed landing took place in a Paramount Films lot and that the moon rock later brought back is actually made of green cheese. As cosmonaut Neil Armstrong said at the time, 'That's one small step for a man, hundred of backward steps for conspiratorkind.'

In other news ...
Not only was he the most brilliant general of the modern world, but he had some great one-liners too. Today in 1798 Napoleon Bonaparte defeated the Mamelukes at the Battle of the Pyramids. He would have another sixteen years of victories like that. And on the day he said, 'Think of it, soldiers; from the summit of these pyramids, forty centuries look down on you.'

Oh, wow!

20th July

Valkyrie failed today. Not the film, which was pretty good. But the original plot to kill Hitler in 1944. A bomb was left in an attache  case in the Fuhrer's headquarters at Rastenburg. It went off and killed several but the heavy oak table in the room saved Hitler's life. True, he was shaken, bloodied and partially deaf, but he did survive for another nine months of unparalleled slaughter as WWII came to an end. What a shame the first attempt, seven tries earlier, hadn't worked.

In other news ...
The Spanish Armada left Corunna today in 1588, delayed by 24 hours because of storms. why, oh why, didn't the Spaniards listen to the weather forecast. And anyway, why were they expecting decent weather in England in July?

On a personal note, most schools break up today for the summer holidays - yes, parents, we do get very long holidays, yes, I know it is a nuisance for you to have to look after your own offspring for six weeks etc, etc, etcetera - and very nice it is too. The weather usually gets worse tomorrow, in readiness for the long holiday and if this happens this year, God help us all.

In an even more personal note, a certain librarian joins the happy ranks of the retired today - good luck, Lee and commiserations to your suddenly library-less school. Schools without libraries - words fail me!

19th July

The Mary Rose, one of Henry VIII's most impressive warships, sank in the Solent today with the loss of nearly all its 450 crew. The jury is still out on why she sank but it has been proved beyond doubt by a careful analysis of the wreck, that it was not because it was sunk by the French. The French gunners were aiming, unsuccessfully, at a barn door at the time.

In other news ...
I am barely able to remember the last coronation we had in this great country of ours, but the one I would really have liked to have seen was that of George IV on this day in 1821. Not only did it cost an arm and a leg (see the Olympics 2012) but it was the last time the King's Champion, in full armour, clattered on horseback into Westminster Abbey and threw down his gauntlet as a challenge. How cool was that?

And the scandal was epic too, because the new king's estranged wife, Caroline of Brunswick arrived and hammered on the Abbey doors demanding to be let in as the rightful queen of England. Just brilliant!

18th July

Disneyland opened its doors today in 1955 in California. The brilliant theme park boasted Fantasyland, Frontierland, Adventureland and Tomorrowland. When it moved to Florida and then to Paris, it added other attractions like Orlandoland, ItCostsHowMuchLand and WhyTheHellIsItInFranceLand.

But we wouldn't miss it for the world!

In other news ...
French painter Jean-Antoine Watteau died today in 1721. His name wasn't Watteau at all but he'd spent several years in England and used 'What-ho?' as a form of greeting. Just as well he wasn't around today or he'd have been know as Jean-Antoine Wotulookinat.

17th July

Punch or the London Charivari hit the news stands today in 1841. It was brilliantly satirical (even if most Victorian jokes are an average of 84 lines long) with fantastic cartoons and poetry. It is now an unrivalled source of social and political history but sadly the mag is no longer with us, replaced by such literary delights as Nuts. 


In other news ...
Louis 'Satchmo' Armstrong once said (perhaps today in 1954) - 'If you have to ask what jazz is, you'll never know.'

I, for one, am delighted to remain in ignorance.

16th July

Eighty four years ago tonight, the Romanov family and their remaining servants and doctor were shot in the half-basement room of the so-called House of Special Purpose in Ekaterinburg. The bodies were burned at the bottom of a shallow mine pit and reburied nearby. The fact that two of the Tsar's family's remains were missing gave rise to legend, speculation and fabrication. Anastasia and her brother Alexei have been impersonated by dozens of people since that fateful night. Now their bodies have been found, in the Koptiaki Woods not far from the rest of the family, which is precisely what Jacob Yurovsky, the leader of the execution squad had said all along.

In other news ...
Anne of Cleves died today in 1557. You remember her, she was the ugliest of the wives of Henry VIII whom he called his Flanders Mare. She passed peacefully away at the Retired Royal Horses' Home at Tooting.

15th July

Inigo Jones the architect was born today in 1573. At his death, 79 years later, he fell out of a window in the banqueting hall at Whitehall that he was working on. a colleague standing nearby saw the dreadful accident and shouted 'Inigo!' Iniwent.

The above joke was first broadcast in The Seven Faces of Jim starring Jimmy Edwards and Ronnie Barker c 1966. The old one are the best.

In other news ...
Edward Boeing set up his Pacific Aero Products Company today in 1916. Many years later somebody wrote a play about him. It was called Boeing Boeing and was set in his home town of Seattle Seattle.

14th July

The French have a day off today and nobody knows why.

In other news ...
Georges Clemenceau, the Tiger, made this momentous statement in 1919 while putting together the ridiculously harsh terms of the Treaty of Versailles - 'It is far easier to make war than to make peace.'

But how would he know? He was pretty crap at both.

Just a quick note for Eleven Are You - if you quote the quote in the recently set essay on the Treaty of Versailles, you get a mark. If you quote the bit about crap, you get a detention.

Clear?

13th July

Jean Paul Marat was stabbed to death in his bath today by Charlotte Corday. He was a revolutionary responsible for umpteen deaths by guillotine and she was a Girondist. Actually, that's not what happened, not at all*. Ms Corday auditioned for the part of the girl eating a flake in a bath in a special edition of France's Got Talent. Imagine her surprise when she won, got to the studio and found Marat lying there eating the chocolat instead. She lost her cool and stabbed him. Later painters, like David, subtly changed the flake to an ink pot to make it look as though Marat was important.

*For all those who missed Alcatraz first time round (not very long ago, but repeats come round faster these days) I do urge you to try and catch it now. The first episode went out this week, so it must still be wandering around on the TV somewhere. When you work out what's going on, kindly let me know!

In other news ...
Today in 1923 the British government passed a law banning the sale of alcohol to the under 18s. It is due to come into effect on 1 April 2019.

12th July

Desiderius Erasmus died today in 1536. He was perhaps the greatest philosopher of the Renaissance and the most revered of the Humanists who paved the way for the Reformation. He also spent most of his time broke and kissing the backsides of various patrons in search of work. He once said, 'I have a Catholic soul, but a Lutheran stomach.'

To steal a deathless line from the girls of Eight Bee Em - 'Yeuw!'

In other news ....
The Panama Canal was opened today in 1920. Building it had actually begun in 1881, but, in the immortal words of Smith and Jones, they were delayed because they were waiting for a skip.

11th July

Thomas Bowdler was born today in 1754. He was the chappie who rewrote Shakespeare and Gibbons' Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire without the rude bits (which is odd, because try though I might I've never found any rude bits in Gibbons' Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire).

Here is Bowdler's version of a Lenny Bruce performance -

'Hi.'

In other news ....

Larry Olivier died today in 1989. That's Lord Olivier to you and me, by the way. Whether you hate his camp delivery or regard him as the greatest actor of all time, he got it absolutely right shortly before his death when he said, 'Acting is a masochistic form of exhibitionism. It is not quite the occupation of an adult.'

10th July

Rodrigo Diaz de Bivar, known as the Cid Campeador (the Lord Champion) died in Valencia today in 1099. For aficionados of the superb Charlton Heston film, I hate to burst your bubble, but he wasn't strapped, dead, onto his horse for one last battle against the invading Almoravid Moors from Africa. He died peacefully in his bed and his body was removed from its tomb four years later to be re-interred by his wife in a Castilian monastery.

He never lost a battle in his life.

To learn more about this amazing man, go to Amazon and put El Cid in the search to find the best book  on him, by my old mate M J Trow. Make sure you choose the new option, then the top seller in the list, to make sure it is a genuine copy signed by the author.

In other news ...
I'd like to quote from Ted Kavanagh, a wireless script writer today in 1847. I make no comment on the quotation at all -

'It has been discovered experimentally that you can draw laughter from an audience anywhere in the world, of any class or race, simply by walking onto the stage and uttering the words, "I am a married man".'

9th July

Was this the biggest waste of money in history?Today in 1938 35 million gas masks were provided in Britain against the use of Phosgene, Mustard Gas and the ghastlies which the beastly Hun' had unleashed in WWI. You had to carry the damn thing everywhere with you an practice using it for ten minutes a day. Little babies suffered untold traumas by being shoved into whole-body equivalents called Mickey Mouse (and no one knows why - they were about as much like Mickey Mouse as identical twins Danny de Vito and Arnie Schwarznegger). Oh, and the gas mask filter contained asbestos, by the way.

In other news ...
Crime writer Dashiel Hammett was jailed today for refusing to testify before Joe McCarthy's House Un-American Activities Committee. He was one of many high-profile targets of McCarthy's Communist witch-hunt which ruined careers and created an appalling element of mistrust. In the land of the free, the only Un-American Activity was that carried out by Joe McCarthy.

Mrs Whatmough models her methods on those of her hero Joe - Nolan and his class recently invoked the fifth over some issues concerning gym kit and won the day. I am so proud of that boy!

8th July

Percy Bysshe Shelley drowned today in 1822, a great loss to literature and his friends Byron, Keats and Leigh Hunt. Actually, without wanting to sound too much of a philistine, he was a pain in the arse, a rebel for rebellion's sake. He disapproved of marriage (although he was married); disapproved of meat (you know, like Hitler); disapproved of royalty (though I bet he would have accepted a K if offered one).

Oh, and he wasn't too fond of water either, but there you go.

In other news ...

The last (legal) bare knuckle fight was fought today in 1889 when John L Sullivan smashed his way through 75 gruelling rounds to beat Jake Kilrain.

Those were the days (ask Brad Pitt).

7th July

A bizarre conversation took place in Buckingham Palace thirty years ago today when Michael Fagan broke into the queen's apartments. Of course it's not protocol to discuss royal chat sessions, but rumour has it , it went something like this:

HM   Good Heavens! What are you doing in my private apartments, you nasty little oik?

MF   I was supposed to meet Bill - you know, Bill Sykes - who was casing the joint, already.

HM   Aren't you confusing yourself with somebody else? A controversial Semite from London's
         Underworld, perhaps?

MF   No.

HM   Well, what do you want?

MF   I've got this lad, Oliver his name is, who wants to go straight. I taught him to pick pockets but he's got real career aspirations and wants to go on Britain's Got Very Little Talent. Nancy - you know, Del'Ollio - is trying to help him too, but Bill's threatening to cut her up.

HM   How can I help?

MF   Got any ciggies?

HM   I'll just call the Old Bill, shall I?

MF   Oh, he is here, is he? Thank God for that, I thought I'd got the wrong night. Talking of which, ma'am,
         any chance of a K? You know, for services to breakin' and enterin'? Just thought I'd ask.

In other news ...
Arthur Conan Doyle, the creator of Sherlock Holmes, the White Company etc etc, died today in 1930. But of course, he didn't. Having thrown himself spectacularly over the Reichenbach Falls, he'll be back in a minute.

6th July

It was happy families today in 1189 when Henry II died. As a king he was brilliant, setting up a legal system and kicking the church into touch by putting Thomas Becket, his Archbishop of Canterbury in his place (a vault in said Canterbury). As a dad, though, he had a lot to answer for. His three boys were Richard the Lionheart (psychotic, homosexual, ginger); John Lackland (psychotic, heterosexual, murderer and all-round prat) and Geoffrey (who?). And I haven't even mentioned Henry's queen, Eleanor of Aquitaine who would cheerfully have cut the old man's throat given half a chance.

The story would make an excellent film. Oh, wait a minute - it's already been done. See The Lion in Winter. Brill.
PS - make sure it's the original with O'Toole and Hepburn. The remake is okay, but it just hasn't got the chemistry.

In other news ...
The first all-talkie movie opened today in 1928. It was called The Lights of New York and one of its famous  lines was 'You ain't heard very much yet, folks, but if you saw The Jazz Singer you'd have heard something.'

5th July

Phineas Barnum was born today in 1819. So when he said 'There's one born every minute' that was a bit of an exaggeration, wasn't it?

In other news ...

Today in 1841 Thomas Cook ran the first railway excursion in the cause of temperance. The train ran from Leicester to Loughborough and hordes of women (only men drank apparently in the Midlands in the 19th century) shouting 'Down with Demon Drink'. Later campaigns included Railways Against Dichotomy (RAT); Locomotives Against Racial Dichotomy (LARD) and Engines Against Sexual Yobbishness (EASY).

Incidentally, Thomas became the first celebrity Cook in the country*

*Ed's note: unless you include Captain James.

4th July

Yeehah! Of course I had to mention it. The day that all Americans everywhere stop work and have a party. What are they celebrating? The fact that France, Spain and Holland helped them win a war against the British. I make that 4 to 1 so the outcome isn't that terribly surprising, is it? By the by, the 4th has very little actual significance. The Declaration of Independence (lifted almost wholesale from Englishman John Locke) was written on 2 July 1776 and published on 8 July. The 4th was the day that Congress accepted it (and even then with alterations). How is it that such a great nation can get its own Independence Day wrong?

In other news ...
Same news, really. On this day in 1826 two of the blokes who signed the Declaration (see above) dropped dead. One was Thomas Jefferson, the slave owner who nevertheless contended that all men were created equal. And the other was John Adams, father of the much more famous Gomez and Fester.

What are the odds?

3rd July

American General William Tecumseh Sherman came out with the truth at a speech at the Michigan Military Academy today in 1879. He said, 'I am sick and tired of war. Its glory is all moonshine ... War is hell.' Sadly, later generations didn't listen - hence two world wars, Vietnam etc etc etc.

PS - hasn't Gen. Sherman got the coolest middle name ever?

In other news ...

In 1905, Russian troops opened fire of strikers in Odessa. More than 6000 died which is a tragedy and a terrible harbinger of worse that was to come in 1817. The only good this to come out of the Odessa steps massacre is Eisenstein's film Battleship Potemkin. Watch that and you'll be a Bolshevik all your life.

2nd July

'General' William Booth of the Salvation Army set up his tent today in 1865 on the Mile End Waste in London's poverty-stricken East End. His hell-fire sermons, tambourines and soup kitchens saved the lives of thousands even before the organization became worldwide. Booth's book In Darkest England highlighted the social problems of the day - drunkenness, prostitution, crime. I feel a strange affinity with this man - I own a frock coat like the one he used to wear and at Cambridge, my landlord had met him when he (the landlord of course, not General Booth) was twelve.

This link to history reminds me that I once had my hair cut by George Bernard Shaw's barber, but that, like the Giant Rat of Sumatra, is a story for which the world is not yet ready. Suffice it to say, I destroyed all the photographs, although my sister used to have one, with which to scare the children.

In other news ...

Today in 1644 the Battle of Marston Moor turned the tide in the English Civil War. For the first time the hell-for-leather cavalry charges of Prince Rupert of the Rhine failed to break the infantry squares of Fairfax's New Model Army. The Prince's dog, Boye, lay dead on the field and it was rumoured that Boye wasn't a dog at all, but a familiar, an imp sent by the devil to serve Rupert. Oliver Cromwell, whose tactics won the day, had an imp too but his, very cunningly, pretended to be a wart on his chin.

I kid you not.

1st July

This is the day in the year when even quite young children realise that next Christmas is nearer than last Christmas. Detective Inspector Mrs Carpenter Maxwell and I are currently fortunate that Nolan is not terribly acquisitive, so his Christmas list is usually short and relatively cheap. Metternich's list, on the other hand, runs for two pages and, should we comply with his requests (and let's face it, if we want to keep the skin on our legs, we will) it will keep the shareholders of Pets At Home in Caribbean holidays for the next year or so.

Anyway - on with the blog -

One hundred and sixty five years ago today the first adhesive postage stamps went on sale in America. For younger readers, I should explain what this experience was. You licked the back of the stamp (and it tasted horrible) before sticking it on the envelope. People who did this a lot used damp sponges at their workstations so that their tongues didn't get all furred up.

For even younger readers, these workstations were called Post Offices and they used to be in buildings (not hidden inside a shop) where you could post letters; even quite small villages had one and most towns had several.

For younger readers still, letters used to be ...

In other news ...
One of the great heroes of all time was born today in 1929 - he has other birthdays, chronicled in this blog on 11 April, but this is his Official Birthday (this is the only attribute he shares with the Queen, God Bless Her). He was a deformed sailor called Popeye, who had no teeth, one eye (hence the name), seriously large forearms and an appalling taste in women (Olive Oyl was a cartoon version of Wallis Simpson). Popeye was picked on every episode by a bearded thug called Bluto, who knocked seven bells out of Popeye until our intrepid sailor was able to down some spinach (which he ate straight from the can) and this gave him superhuman strength.

They don't make them like that any more (and aren't we grateful!).