Jack1956, CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0, via Wikimedia Commons Jack O’ Legs In the folklore of Hertfordshire, England, Jack O’ Legs was a giant and legendary outlaw who helped the poor people of his locality. He was a good archer and used a huge bow to match his size. He was said to live in a […]
On this day in 1936 the instrument of the abdication of King Edward VIII was endorsed by the Westminster parliament in London.
Later on the same day, Edward spoke to the nation and the world via radio, his faltering voice revealing the deep sadness he felt, that could not fulfill his kingly duties and at the same time marry the woman that he loved, the American divorcee Wallis Simpson.
Never formally crowned King, his younger brother, George VI would be coronated the following year. Edward, known as ‘David’ to intimates, would spend the rest of his life in exile with his wife, taking the title ‘Duke of Windsor’. He died in 1972 in Paris.
In one of its more significant and, in fact, truly historic moves, the Westminster parliament in London approved the Statute of Westminster on this day, December 11 1931.
Whilst largely forgotten today, this act effectively began the major phase of reducing the power and reach of the British Empire, marking the beginning of the Commonwealth. The dominions of Canada, Newfoundland, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa and Ireland were granted equal status and full autonomy, whilst still adhering allegiance to the Crown of Great Britain.
A lot has changed since then; Newfoundland is now a province of Canada (Newfoundland and Labrador since March 31 1949), for example. The Republic of Ireland is truly independent, whilst within the bounds of the EU.
Even the integrity of Great Britain itself has come under threat with strong nationalist movements in Wales and particularly Scotland.
Time will tell if the United Kingdom breaks apart, or re-constitutes itself, once outside the of the EU.
Rooks settle squawking on willow, blotches of black against interminable grey. Patches of snow remain, dappling the manky grass, where a lone sparrow hops around, in hope. The limp Union Flag smothers St George in the dank, freezing air, a nation sleepwalking in a bizarre masque. Winter’s privation bites deeper this year; do the birds suspect — do they know? And where do we go?
I seem to have come across a few black fungi recently, so tried to identify them. This one was in grassland on a cliff in Devon in the summer, 1-2 inches across. I’m not sure about this, but it could be indigo pinkgill. This one was on a dead birch log in the autumn in […]