Mary Rose Museum, Portsmouth

Stephola was onboarding for a new job and the poor love was stuck in what looked like an endless stream of dreary remote e-learning – absolutely nothing of which was I able to assist her with and scant little I could offer other than commiserations and the occasional cup of tea, so I decided to head out of town and go visit Portsmouth. I honestly can’t remember if we made it to Portsmouth back in ‘95; it’s possible, but by the end of that six month trip, I mostly just remember the nightmare of driving and more driving. I’d have to go look it up… even back then I kept a travel journal, but it isn’t on here!

The primary reason for deciding on Portsmouth? The famous Mary Rose Museum. So I booked myself some cheap accomodation about 200m walk from the shipyards / naval museum district. Turned out to be a great spot and a lovely hotel… for a fraction of the cost of our Dublin digs, I got a room twice the size and buffet breakfast thrown in. Royal Maritime Hotel on Queen Street – can highly recommend it as budget accom near the museums.

The view from my window…

First thing in the morning I got myself around the Shipyards complex thinking to beat the tourists crowds, only to see fairly quickly that everyone else had had the same plan. There was a queue to get in, even though this mid-winter crowd were largely locals (UK, not all from Portsmouth!) judging by the accents. So I found a spot with a nice bench to wait half a hour or so for the morning crush to dissipate. It was a well calculated plan, for as soon as the first tranche of visitors disappeared from view, I then found myself in a lull in the traffic and didn’t see many people along the route for my entire visit.

Interesting juxtaposition…?

This was my first view of the Mary Rose Museum, I wasn’t expecting such a spaceship looking thing. I think maybe the Vasa Museum and the recent visit to the Titanic Museum had given rise an expectation of something more nautical??

Like I said, there was a lull between the crowds – everyone had gone in already and I found myself following the route largely solo. I was a bit concerned at the video projections, the overly passionate ‘History Channel’ audio that was running and the whole ‘Spirit of London’ vibe was feeling strong at the beginning of the exhibition – thankfully, it was short lived, and the bulk of the museum wasn’t insisting on the forcible interactive spoon feeding the guests some you know, history.

This is turning into a real pet hate these days… it’s worse in the UK than in the museums we visited last year on the Continent… but there is this extremely obvious, bordering on obsessive, effort happening in these cultural and historically important locations to turn ‘history’ into ‘experience’. I know the theory of it all is to make the history as accessible as possible – they’re literally trying to display ‘history without the dull bits’, but personally I find it condescending and extremely agitating to have archeological finds and historical culturally significant information handed to me in what feels like some sort of pre-digested, dumbed-down format. Stop catering for the lowest common denominator! People will never get truly engaged and lift their game if they can come to these things and consistently have their history served up to them in sanitised, bite sized chunks that don’t require them to fire up at least a few neurons. I could rant about this all day, but won’t. At least there was no black London taxi cab in this ‘interactive experience.

Okay, I didn’t mind the huge projections of some manuscript imagery depicting the ship from contemporary sources – the originals of which are not housed at this museum and will not be on display here. But there must be some happy balance between providing relevant additional information in a visually useful manner without the need to add a theatrical song and dance soundtrack over it while you present it? Surely… >.>

The Mary Rose was an English Tudor warship, one of the jewels of the navy at the time. It was commissioned by King Henry VIII, and built in Portsmouth between 1509 and 1511. It served largely as a troop carrier before being refit out as an artillery ship in 1545 when it was transformed into a cutting-edge carvel-built ship with lidded gun ports, which allowed her to be equipped with heavier guns. This same guns and their weight may have been the ship’s undoing. The Mary Rose was apparently King Henry VIII’s favourite ship and often served as the flagship of the fleet.

Sadly, it sank in 1545 during the Battle of the Solent, while attempting to stop French ships from landing on the Isle of Wight, and was lost until 1982 when it was raised. Now it provides the most perfect Tudor time capsule we have, and gives incredible insight into the Tudor naval and seafaring life and the lives of people from the Tudor period in general.

Thankfully, the interactive ‘we are in the waves sinking beneath the seas while listening to the laments of Henry VIII’ audio-visual rooms disappeared quickly and we were able to enter the museum proper and from here on in were engaging with more traditional displays! Phew… for a bit there it was promising to be a loooong day! The first artefact presented for our edification was this impressive canon – little did i know just how many canon were going to be scattered around this museum!

Many of the descriptions I’ve included are directly from the information plaques.

Everyone on board the Mary Rose was male. Records say that the ship carried 200 mariners, 185 soldiers, 30 gunners and the officers. She also carried the captain and his retinue, a master, a pilot, a purser, a surgeon and his assistant,/and carpenters. So they think there were more than 500 men on board when the ship sank. Of these, no more than 35 survived. Studies of the skeletal remains of at least 179 individuals have revealed that most of the men were in their 20s. The youngest was around ten years old and the oldest over 40. On average the men were I.71 metres tall (5 ft 7 in.), only slightly smaller than UK men of today (typically around 1.75 metres, 5 ft 9 in.).

This fine plate is one of 28 pewter pieces with the letters ‘GC’ stamped on the rim. These are the initials of Sir George Carew, the captain of the Mary Rose. A pewter bowl has the initials of the owner ‘GI’ on one side. On the other side are the letters ‘IS’ within a shield, which also has a picture of a pewterer’s hammer. So these letters are assumed to be the maker’s initials.

Initials of other officers can be seen on other pewter items, such as ‘HB’ on a dish. They have not discovered the name of its owner. This pewter flagon has some very curious marks. The lid is highly decorated and has four scratched marks. On the base is a symbol of the Trinity made by a pattern of three fish.

The crew liked to personalise their drinking vessels apparently. These lids of tankards all have complex marks so their owners could identify them. The marks can be neatly incised on the outside, the inside, or all over, as on some of the bowls. It is not clear whether the marks show ownership by one person or by a group of mess mates.

The Mary Rose Bell – This bronze bell is one of the few objects that stayed on the Mary Rose throughout her career. It was made in Malines near Antwerp, a town famous for casting bells in that periods. The Flemish inscription running round it reads: ‘IC BEN GHEGOTEN INT YAER MCCCCCX’ – I was made in the year 1510′ – the year Henry VIII ordered the Mary Rose. It was rung to mark the passing of time, to raise alarm and to tell the men when to go on or off duty. It’s in such good condition.

The Mary Rose had such a successful career as a troop carrier for 34 years but sank in a matter of minutes. Over the years, there have been many explanations of what caused her to go down so quickly. After looking at all the evidence, they think it was a combination of factors. Many accounts of the sinking were written years later or by people who were not there. So these may not be reliable. There is only one account by a survivor, recorded at the time by the ambassador to the Emperor Charles V. He said the disaster was:

“… caused by their not having closed the lowest row of gunports on one side of the ship. Having fired the guns on that side, the ship was turning in order to fire the guns from the other, when the wind caught her sails so strongly as to heel her over, and plunge her open gunports beneath the water, which flooded and sank her.”

This suggests she sank because water flooded in through the open gunports when a gust of wind heeled the ship over. But there may be other reasons why the ship went over so easily and why the crew was unable to prevent the disaster.

The Mary Rose sank on her starboard side, leaving the port side to be slowly destroyed by erosion and by marine animals, fungi and bacteria. The starboard side survived because it became buried in the mud, which protected it from the underwater currents and from destructive organisms. The water in the Solent contains large quantities of silt, which built up both inside and around the hull. This smothered the remains of the ship, keeping out the oxygen that the wood-attacking creatures needed to live.

the first view of the actual ship was quite stunning. It is not as large or impressive as the Vasa but its cut away view gives you a fantastic appreciation of where the various officers and crew were located, and how the ship functioned.

There are numerous artefacts displayed alongside the ship as you wander from one end of the galleries to the other – military canon, canonballs, swords, and other more domestic items like axes, buckets, tables and chairs.

The lighting on the ship changes constantly, sometimes looking a warm amber and other times a deep blue (presumably to indicate it was beneath the waves, because we might forget?). I wasn’t however, expecting the lights to dim and then see animated projections of various people depicted in period clothing living and working as if they were inside the ship. I found it distracting, but others may have found it helpful to depict where certain functions of the ship were located.

Some fabulous oak trunks and caskets.

The Master Carpenter’s Quarters
Everything found inside this chest is known to have belonged to one man – the Master Carpenter. They can tell from his belongings that he was not just a skilled craftsman, but also wealthy, literate and religious. They know he practised archery, liked to play dice games and had a fondness for finely decorated items. The Master Carpenter had some finer belongings than most of the crew. In his chest they found valuable pewter plates and a very ornate pewter tankard. It is the only known I6thC tankard etched with these detailed patterns. Even his knife was of high quality; with a handle made of burr boxwood, it originally had fine metal fastenings.

Backgammon Set – The Master Carpenter owned a ‘tables’ set, a game which developed into backgammon. The lighter coloured triangles are yew; the darker triangles are made of spruce or larch. The board could be folded in half and the rebates for the hinges can still be seen, but the iron hinges have rusted away during the years the wreck was underwater. Only some of the backgammon counters survived. Originally there would have been 15 dark and 15 light ones made of poplar. You can see that the upper edges have been rounded off so that they feel comfortable in the hand. A leather pot found near the backgammon board might have been a dice-shaker. There were two tiny dice in the chest – and by tiny, they are about 6mm square – and they are not even or identical.

The famous Good Boy, Hatch.

The Master Gunner’s Chest
The Master Gunner’s chest was found on the main gundeck. The carving on the front includes a shield with his mark. The tools inside include a linstock and priming wire. The linstock held a smouldering match which was put to the touch-hole at the back of the gun to ignite the gunpowder. The priming wire was used to keep the touch-hole clean. The silver whistle is the Master Gunner’s badge of office. The silver and garnet Maltese Cross with two silver finger rings and silver coins show he was a wealthy man.
The tiny bone dice suggest that he probably enjoyed gaming. His clothing included the ends of laces for either a jerkin or his shoes. His chest contained the only dress-pin of silver found. He carried a ballock dagger with by-knives. The top of a second dagger is decorated with the figures of a king and queen.

The gallon flagon may have been a serving flagon for the gun crew. It was found beside the Master Gunner’s chest and has a picture of a bronze gun on a carriage with spoked wheels. But if you look at it sideways, you may see something else. The lid is incised with an inscription which translates as “If God is with us, who can be against us?” (Romans 8:31). The inscription encircles a Tudor rose and crown.
The small lead weight and wooden bung were also found inside the chest.

Gravel, pebbles or smashed flint cobbles were placed inside wooden canisters and fired at close range to ‘scour the decks’. This powder chamber is the largest they found. It took six men to lift it. There are two of these large chambers, but not the huge gun barrels they belonged to.

Bronze Guns
This demi-cannon was made in 1535 by Francesco Arcano, an Italian gunfounder working in London.
The gun is decorated with fleurs-de-lis (symbolising Henry VIII’s claim to France), Tudor roses, and the lions of England. The shield has Tudor supporters – a dragon and a greyhound. Above that is the Royal Crown and below are the letters ‘H VIII R’. Under the name of the gunfounder are the words. ‘POVR DEFENDER’ (To defend). It weighs 1,400 kg with a bore of 14 cm.

Troopship to Gunship
The Mary Rose was built to carry soldiers, gunners and archers. Most of her guns were small and the emphasis was on hand-to-hand combat. By the time she sank after 34 years in service, the tactics of warfare at sea had changed completely. The emphasis was now on firepower and her hull had been adapted for this. When built, the Mary Rose was equipped with 78 guns, but only five of these were large enough to be mounted on carriages. In 1545 at the time the ship sank, of her 91 guns over 30 were mounted on carriages. The recent innovation of tightly fitting gunport lids made it possible for her to carry these very heavy weapons and still be a stable sailing ship. In the late I530s the Mary Rose was transformed from a platform chiefly for soldiers to become a platform mainly for guns. When she was discovered, her gunport lids were open for battle and the guns were run out, ready for firing.

The Surgeon’s Quarters
The Surgeon not only performed operations but was also the ship’s doctor, dentist and pharmacist. He was however not a barber, despite belonging to the Company of Barbers and Surgeons. The Company did not allow him to cut hair or shave another man’s beard. Most of the best surgeons worked for the nobility. Our surgeon may have been employed by the captain, Vice Admiral Sir George Carew. The Surgeon’s post was a skilled and prestigious one but also challenging. He had to treat fevers – such as typhus, yellow fever, malaria or even plague – venereal and lung diseases, dysentery, parasites and dental decay, as well as treating battle wounds and work injuries. “And I do note four things most specially that every surgeon ought to have: The First that he be learned; The Second that he be expert; The Third that he be ingenious; The Fourth that he be well mannered.”

Inside the chest in the Surgeon’s cabin we found a wooden dish and two wooden bowls to hold sponges and bloodied instruments. These are examples of the wooden ointment canisters and ceramic medicine jars, found in the chest, still corked. The shape and glaze of these jars shows that they were imported from Raeren, a town now in Belgium. The wooden canisters are also from there or one of the other city-states on the Lower Rhine.

A syringe, used for draining wounds, was also retrieved from the orlop deck. Nearby were two pewter canisters, identical to those in the Surgeon’s cabin. Three of the Surgeon’s wooden canisters were found far away from his cabin one on the orlop deck and two of them close to the coif on the upper deck.

A coif was recovered from the upper deck. It is silk, not velvet like the one found folded in the cabin. While the one in the cabin is identical to those worn in the painting of Henry VIII and the Barber Surgeons, this one seems more functional than ceremonial, so perhaps this was the one he wore every day.

This length of chain was found nearby. It has no obvious function, but it is very similar to the chains on the shoulders of some of the men in the painting of Henry VIII and the Barber Surgeons.

Medicine on the Mary Rose
The surgeon was a man of science, but also a man of faith. This was an age when everyone believed God’s will intervened in all human affairs –

‘Je le pansai, Dieu le guérit’ : ‘I bandaged him, God healed him.’ Ambroise Paré, Journey to Turin, 1537

Cures, and even the patient’s survival, depended on the surgeon’s skill in diagnosing and treating. The surgeon might not have fully understood the nature of disease but he knew a wide range of remedies and about the need for cleanliness. He also cared about the well-being of his patients. The wooden bottle and cleverly shaped spoon helped to feed those who were too weak to feed themselves or who had facial injuries. Liquids were forced into the rectum using this clyster (object marked #6) to relieve stomach pains and constipation, and to treat parasitic worms. A pig’s bladder was normally used to hold the liquid.

These scoops and probes helped the Surgeon remove shot, shrapnel and fragments of bone in a body. For cutting into the body, the surgeon had a range of scalpels and a knife.

The Surgeon would amputate a limb if it was too damaged or diseased to heal. Smaller amputations, of fingers and toes, were carried out using a chisel and mallet. Amputation of hands, arms, feet and legs would be done using the amputation knife to separate the flesh and then the saw to cut through the bone… all without anaesthetic! *shudder*

Blood flow was stopped with cautery irons. These were heated over a brazier and the red hot iron applied to seal the veins. Not every problem the Surgeon dealt with on board was caused by an accident or by war. He would use the urethral syringe to treat venereal diseases by injecting mercury, although none of the human remains showed any signs of such diseases. Bandages for wounds were sewn up with a wooden needles.

Diagnosis & Treatment
In 16th-century England there was little understanding of disease. It was believed that illness was caused by an imbalance of the four humours (substances) which made up a person – blood, phlegm, black bile and yellow bile. Diagnosis by the colour, smell and taste of urine was common. Cures could be dietary, herbal or by the letting of blood. All these treatments were thought to bring the humours back into balance.

“Let every man be wary no phlebotomist or letter of blood, nor no manner of surgeon do touch him in opening any vein or do make any incision or cutting when the moon is in any sign where the sign has any dominion or does reign.” – Andrew Boorde, Fyrst Boke of the Introduction of Knowledge, 1542

The Surgeon’s Potions
Ointments to soothe and heal were mixed and spread using spatulas. These glass bottles and the small decorative jars are from the south of the Netherlands, they held expensive and unstable or poisonous materials, such as mercury. Only small amounts were needed to create a potion. Ceramic jars were found still corked and held the remains of their medicines, some of these jars are from Spain and Portugal.

The pewter flasks would have contained precious distilled medicines. The Surgeon made cures from dried herbs that may have been stored in these pewter canisters .

When some of the wooden ointment canisters were recovered, there were still traces of their painted labels. One canister contained peppercorns, a treatment for malarial fever, headaches, coughs and wind. The base for the Surgeon’s ointments was beeswax, butter or tallow. Into this he mixed resins, olive, poppy and fern oil, frankincense, sulphur, copper, lead and mercury. Good stuff.

Henry VIII & the Barber Surgeons
One of the unnamed faces with the King in this picture could be that of the Mary Rose’s surgeon. The distinctive surgeon’s cap and the medical equipment we found, as well as his presence on Vice Admiral Carew’s ship, all suggest that our surgeon was very experienced and a man of some note. As this painting commemorates an event just five years before the Mary Rose sank, his portrait may be included here. The picture was painted by Hans Holbein the Younger to mark the merger of the Company of Barbers and the Fellowship of Surgeons in 1540 to form the Company of Barbers and Surgeons. Normally the King would not attend such an event, but it reflects his wish for English medical practice to equal that of mainland Europe. The painting is displayed by kind permission of the Worshipful Company of Barbers of London.

The distinctive coif with its silk lining tells us that the Surgeon had served a seven-year apprenticeship under a master surgeon, passed the examination and was now a senior member of the Company of Barber and Surgeons. He owned a barber’s bowl razors and case and combs, even though the new rules of the Company of Barbers and Surgeons did not allow him to cut hair or shave another man’s beard. There are two signs that the surgeon was wealthy man. First, his leather purse packed with silver groats. Secondly, the medical equipment found in the cabin must have been very expensive to buy. Many instruments were made on the Continent, but the pewter objects are all English – which was the most costly and prized of all pewter ware at the time.

Cauldrons
This cauldron, and the brick fireplace into which it was built, was found under an enormous pile of rubble. This is how it looked half-way through the excavation… but without the mud. Originally the rim of the cauldron was circular and over 1.6 metres wide. We could boil 350 litres of broth. The silt covering the ovens was as deep as the room you are standing in (10-12’ deep). All of it was dug out by the divers before they even reached the top of the rubble – more than ten times the amount shown here. The cauldron was built into brickwork which supported it all the way around. Extra support was provided by two iron bars built into the sixth course of bricks. One of these iron bars survived very well, but the other bar corroded away, leaving just a hole where it had been.

Conservationists managed to retrieve ash from below the cauldron. There was not much unburnt wood in the oven, so we think the fire was not alight when the ship sank. Ash was scooped out with this wooden shovel. You can see that the end was once protected with metal, but is has been burnt at some stage.
The ash was collected in an ashbox to be carried away.

Injury & Illness
This is the skull of Person A, who we have identified as the Master Gunner because of the objects found with him. Although younger than 35, he had lost many of his teeth and parts of his jaw bone had worn away, so he probably suffered from painful abscesses. He had an unusually shaped head, longer between the front and the back than many of the other men.

These are the arm bones of Person B. He was between 25 and 30 years old and 1.7 metres tall (5ft 7in.). Although he had well developed muscles, his lower spine had signs of stress and his right elbow (displayed on the left) was badly damaged and arthritic. He had the only ivory wristguard recovered and the other objects displayed in the case nearby. So we think he was an archer, or perhaps a less active captain of archers.

C-D Person C, a young man, suffered a ‘bowing” fracture of his right femur – the upper leg bone-as a child. It is twisted, bowed and flattened and there is matching damage on his right pelvis.

Person D, an older man, had suffered ‘spiral’ fractures of both bones in his lower right leg. These were the result of a fall. It is clear that the bones were not reset after the fracture.

E-F Person E, a teenager, had rickets as a child. This softens the bones – you can see that both his tibias are bowed as a result.

G-H The heads of the upper leg bones of Person G, are flattened and his hip joints are broad and shallow. This was due Rickets is caused by a lack of vitamin D, which is found in fish oil, animal fats and cheese. One of the lower leg bones of Person F shows scars from healed scurvy. This is caused by a lack of vitamin C and results in bleeding. On long bones, extra bony to restricted blood flow to this area in childhood. Standing upright would have been impossible, and he would have walked awkwardly. Some skulls have head wounds which may be battle injuries.

Person H may have been hit by an arrow shot from above, but it growth occurs at the spots where the blood clots were healing when the man died.

An Archer’s Skeleton
This is one of the most complete skeletons recovered. The bones are large and depressions within them suggest that his muscles – especially his arm muscles – were well developed. Both his shoulders have a condition called acromiona, where the tip of bone – the acromion – on the shoulder blade has not fused. It usually fuses around the age of about 18, but regular strain can prevent this. On the Mary Rose skeletons, there are more instances of this condition on the left-hand side than the right. The left side is the side which exerts most force when a right-handed archer draws a longbow. The central section of his spine is twisted and the base is compressed towards the left. His pelvis shows signs of severe stress, similar to that found on the bones of archers who draw heavy longbows today. These are more reasons why we think he must have been a professional archer.

The Cook’s Personal Belongings.
A few possessions were found in the galley which we think belonged to the Cook. Like many of the crew he had a dagger – his small knife, is of a type usually mounted on the outside of the sheath of a dagger. He had a comb and a few silver groats – coins of small value. Several cooking spoons were found in the galley but this one may have been his own eating spoon. This bowl has the name ‘NY COEP COOK’ carved onto it so we think that is the name for our cook. We also found shoes and woollen stockings called hose – mostly too fragile to display except this piece from the foot part of the stocking.

The Cook’s Stool
This is the oldest dated example of this type of stool in the world. It was next to the ovens. Although it makes a good seat, the cut marks on it show that the Cook also used it as a chopping block. The knife on top of the stool was one of the smaller ones in the galley.

These pots are known as grapen. They were made in the Netherlands and nearby Flanders where there was a tradition of making such pots stretching back to the 13th century. Some of these pots had soot on the outside, showing they stood on the hearth next to the flames. Some have large feet attached but others have small feet ‘pulled’ (pinched) from the clay of the pot.

When it came to mealtimes, the crew were organised into groups of about ten men. Each group was known as a mess! By looking at where they found plates, buckets and bowls around the ship they can work out how food and drink was served to the crew. Almost 100 wooden plates were found in the galley: These must have been issued at meal times and returned. Drinking bowls, however, stayed with the mess alongside their barrels of beer. They found no evidence of mess tables-the crew probably sat on the decks to eat.

Cod and hake bones were found in barrels and in baskets. The cod, some almost a metre long, came from the fishing grounds off Iceland and Newfoundland. The hake probably came from English waters. All had been de-headed and gutted. This conger eel was caught by fishermen from the Channel Islands where catching these eels was a major industry.

The Purser’s Store
The store was small and partitioned off from the rest of the deck. At one end we found a pile of seven gun-shields and at the other, a number of lanterns. In the centre were chests full of clothes and tools. Among them were baskets, some with the remains of fish or dried plums in them, and barrels, some of which held candles. Others still contained the residue of wine. In the next compartment we found more lanterns and baskets of fish as well as a set of scales for weighing out

The Purser had a second chest. In it he kept a pair of leather ankle boots, a knitted garment, a wooden comb and a knife. There was also a small square wooden plate, a leather drinking flask and his bowl, marked on its base with the number 18.

The second chest also contained objects that reflect the Purser’s control of food and drink on board. He was responsible for the contents of the barrels, and in this chest were the tools for this job-his shives and spiles. A shive is a tapering wooden tap, which was hammered into a barrel so that the liquid inside could be poured out. A spile is a long bung that is tapped into the shive as a stopper to close the barrel. A wooden mallet found nearby would knock them into position.

Angels were coins worth 8 shillings. One of these is from the first half of Henry VIll’s reign, the other two are from the reign of his father, Henry VII. All have a ship on one side and the winged figure of St Michael slaying a dragon on the other side. The half-angel, like the angel, has an image of St Michael and the dragon on one side and a type of medieval ship called a hul on the other. The coin was struck during the reign of Edward IV, more than sixty years before the Mary Rose sank. There are more than 20 silver coins here, amounting to a few shillings.

The Money Changer
In a chest in the officers’ quarters on the upper deck, we discovered a small box containing a set of scales with weights for specific gold coins. Nearby were fragments of a money-changer’s purse. All these suggest a money-changer was on board, perhaps the Purser himself. Money-changers carried scales to check the weight of the coins. They also had very distinctive purses with stick handles from which four, five or six pouches were hung. Sometimes these had smaller pouches sewn on the outside to keep different coins separate.

A small number of personal items were found with the scales and weights. These included a painted octagonal mirror base, combs, parts of several shoes,, a leather drinking flask, copper lace-ends, a silver groat and a tiny barrel of pepper. We also detected traces of ginger root in the chest – another expensive imported commodity. The fishing floats show that either he felt a need to supplement the ship’s food he received or he simply enjoyed fishing.

The Purser’s Treasury.
One chest in the Purser’s store stood out – a bench-style chest with carved panels covering its legs. Fitted with a lock, it had gold and silver coins inside amounting to more than the Captain’s monthly wages. Some of the coins were newly minted in 1545 and were barely worn, so this was very probably the ship’s official money chest. These are fragments of the handle and leather that made up the distinctive money-changer’s purse (object #14). It had a number of pouches to hold different currencies, or coins of different values. Close by was the oldest coin recovered – a single gold coin called a ryal (15). Worth 10 shillings, it was made in Coventry about 80 years before the Mary Rose sank.

A Money Changer’s Scales and Weights
The money changer’s small box has a sliding lid like an old-fashioned pencil box. On the inside are circular depressions carved to hold a pair of collapsible pan scales. These hung from the ends of the beam by silk cords held with wire rings and are used for weighing coins. The shapes of these weighs were more common on the Continent than in England in the mid-16th Century. They were made for checking the weight of specific gold coins.
A weight used for nobles – a gold coin worth a third of a £1 – from 1412 onwards.
A weight struck between 1433 and 1454 to weigh Burgundian Netherlands raiders.
A 52-grain (3.4g) weight – It has the crowned arms of France and was struck between 1461 and 1547.
[5] A weight of 53 grains (3.45 g) dating from 1423.

Near the purse lay a pocket sundial – Its well once held a small magnetic compass. Within the inner circle, the heads of a man and a woman face each other on either side of the gnomon, which is inscribed with the letter ‘M’. Other objects nearby were a decorated wooden knife-sheath, a lace end and a number of silver groats – each worth four old pence- and a single penny.

A Dark & Smelly Place to Live
The Mary Rose was packed with over 500 fighting men, sailors and officers, but she was not built with their comfort in mind. Below decks, it was cold in winter and stiflingly hot in summer. All year round it was damp, with a strong smell of tar, stagnant water and sweating, unwashed men. For the most part it was also dark. On the main deck, the only light came from openings in the centre of the deck, from ventilating hatches above each gun, or from the gunports when their lids were open. Otherwise light came only from candles. Officers and professional men like the Master Carpenter and the Pilot slept in cabins. The crew had only the hard deck. Only some of the more elite professional soldiers would have had uniforms, the rest wore their own clothes. Not all of the men had a change of clothing, so if it was stormy or raining when they were on the open decks or in the rigging, it would be a long time before they could get dry. We found no evidence of toilets. Most men probably just leant over the side of the ship.

This is a pewter chamber pot, owned by an officer. No evidence survives for ‘heads’ – open toilets at the bow of the ship (for the men) – or for enclosed toilets outside the aftercastle (for the officers).

A Wealthy Officer
The contents of this man’s chest tell us he was literate and numerate. But it also tells us so much more. Only a man of some wealth could have afforded such belongings. And only a man of considerable importance would have been allowed to keep them in a chest on the crowded main gundeck. The officer kept a spare hat of knitted wool, in his chest, together with its silk lining and the lace which ran around it.

There was no sign of the scales or weights that were stored in this balance case, pictured below. The case had a mirror inside the cover. In one of the depressions on the other side there are the remains of a brass token, on which is the face of a ‘Green Man’. The outside of the cover is embossed with the inscription: ‘VERBUM DOMINI MANET IN ETERNUM’ – ‘The world of the Lord endureth forever’. (Peter 1:25)

Another obvious sign of the wealth of this officer is this flask of finest English pewter. The bronze candle sniffer belongs to a man used to a finer way of living. He did not just use two damp fingers to put out a candle. The leather book cover indicates he was literate. Among the decorations are the letters ‘MD’ – not the initials of the owner but of Martin Doture a London bookbinder. Silk ribbons held the book shut. This brush helped him keep his cabin clean… all objects denoting someone accustomed to a finer standard of living.

A Seafarer’s Chest
The officer who owned this chest had made sure it was fit for service at sea. When the ship rolled, the battens fixed around the edge of the lid would stop anything sliding off. The chest has been fastened with dowels (short wooden rods), not nailed together with iron nails which would corrode in the salty sea air. It is likely that the officer was literate but the mark on the back of the chest looks crude. Perhaps it was for the benefit of a servant who could not read, but could recognise his master’s mark.
(missing picture?)

He owned these two mittens – They were worn one inside the other on the left hand. The outer one is made of sheepskin, with the fleece on the inside. It is possible that they are gloves for hunting with hawks and other birds of prey – a popular pastime among gentlemen.

The Finer Things in Tudor Life
This oak chest stood on the orlop deck towards the stern of the ship. At either end of the lid, there is a batten on the underside. These helped to keep the damp out and to keep the lid firmly closed.

This peppermill was found alongside these peppercorns in the till – a lidded compartment – of the chest. The wealthy flavoured their food because they enjoyed, and could afford, exotic spices. Pepper was an expensive luxury.

Pilot & His Tools
The Pilot was an important and highly skilled man, responsible for navigating the ship from place to place, particularly into harbour. To do this successfully, he had to remember hundreds of locations, avoiding danger areas such as sandbanks and rocks. He also had to understand the tides and weather.
In a cabin at the forward end of the main deck, we found a compass and a pair of dividers and their case. The cabin almost certainly belonged to the Pilot. Two more compasses and another pair of dividers were found high up in the ship, towards the stern. This was the Pilot’s station, from where he gave orders to the helmsman steering the ship. His charts and books, together with most of the equipment he would need to work out the ship’s position, have not survived. But what we have recovered shows he was a man skilled in more than just coastal navigation. He may not have been English – at this time
Henry VIII had sixty French pilots in his service.

The compasses from the Mary Rose are the earliest known steering compasses on gimbals – pivots – in the Western world. Each sat in a case suspended on gimbals which allowed the compass needle to stay level whatever the motion of the ship. The gimbals were made of brass strips, so they did not affect the magnetised iron needle. This needle was fixed underneath a card marked with the points of the compass, so that both the card and needle moved when the ship changed direction. The Pilot rolled his charts around sticks to store them. Dividers, made of brass, were used for taking the distance between two points on a chart and measuring against the chart’s scale. Although very eroded, you can see that the inside of this wooden case was carved to hold two pairs of dividers. A groove around the case suggests that a lid was tied on. Below are various hourglasses that would have been used to mark time

These are lead weights that are tied to a line and then dropped to the seabed to measure the depth of water. They have a small hollow in the base which was greased with tallow. When the weight touched the bottom, a tiny bit of the seabed – sand, silt or gravel – would stick to the tallow. By examining this, and with the help of his charts and books, the Pilot could identify particular parts of the shallows, so avoid the risk of the ship running aground.

THE SHIP’S MODEL

The Mary Rose – this simplified model of the Mary Rose identifies the key parts of her rigging. If all the ropes on the actual ship had been tied together, they would have stretched for over 10 miles. The mode shows the two types of rigging on sailing ships: standing rigging to hold up the masts, coloured black on this model, and running rigging to control the yards and sails coloured white.

The Masts: The Mary Rose’s four masts were the mainmast, the foremast, the mizzenmast and the bonaventure mast. There was also a bowsprit, and an outrigger. The masts were made up of sections. The top two sections of the mainmast were called the main top mast and the main top gallant mast.

Standing Rigging: The masts are held in place by ropes called stays and shrouds, which are known together as ‘standing rigging’. The stays stop the masts falling forwards or backwards and the shrouds stop them falling to one side or the other. The ropes have names such as the mainstay and the foremast shroud.

Sails & Yards: The spars from which the sails hang are called the yards. Sails and yards are named after the part of the mast to which they are attached, such as the mainsail and the main top yard.

Pulleys & Ropes
The heavy and complex rigging of sailing ships relied on ropes and pulleys (‘blocks’). A combination of these two are called a ‘block and tackle’. A block and tackle reduced gathered effort needed to move or lift heavy loads, such as yards and sails. Although many types of blocks were used, they all have three main components – the shell (wooden body), the sheave (the wheel), and the sheave pin (the axle).

Many different thicknesses of line and rope were used. Made by twisting long strands of hemp together, they were usually coated with tar to preserve them. This also served as a binding to protect a thinner rope from chafing against a thicker one. The fragment below from the edge of a smile has both the canvas sail-cloth and the bolt rope (a continuous length of rope running around the outer edge of the sail). A sail was made by cutting long stripes of canvas to shape and sewing them together. The bolt-rope was then sewn on to strengthen the outer edge of the sail. The ropes that controlled the sail and those that ties the sail to the yard were fastened to the bolt-rope.

Rigging Materials
The rig of the Mary Rose included timber masts and yards, hemp rope, canvas sailcloth and brass pulley wheels. Great strains were put on them all, so they had to be replaced regularly. Most of the ropes, pulleys and other rigging were probably made in England, but canvas was not manufactured there during this period. It was imported from Northern France, Brittany, and Gdansk in Poland and turned into sails by English sailmakers.

Although the ship’s carpenters made some of the blocks (some were found unfinished in the Master Carpenter’s cabin), most of the pulleys and other wooden rigging gear were probably manufactured by woodturners. These craftsmen also made eating bowls and other every day items.

This parcel held a yard against a mast, but also allowed it to slide up and down and turn horizontally. It went almost halfway round a mast and was held together by ropes that also attached it to the yard. It fitted one of the larger masts on the Mary Rose, but divers found it stowed away on the orlop deck, with its rope fitted.

From the Seaman’s Chest – a Treasured Possession.
Inside the chest was a leather pouch originally embroidered with silver thread. Compartments in it held the top of a dagger hilt, and a lead token dated 1542. On the other side of the token is an image of a lady, possibly the Virgin Mary. It is similar to late 15thC and early 16thC tokens found on the continent. Also inside the pouch were a bone die, a lace-end, silver coins, a writing seal with the initials FG on one end, weights and a simple accounting stick.

Defending the Ship
The aim of ship-to-ship fighting was not usually to sink an enemy ship but to board and capture it. The Mary Rose was well equipped to prevent boarding. The weapons included 150 bills and 150 pikes, issued by the King. The bill had a hooked chopping blade and the pike had a simple spear-like tip. Both were mounted on long ash hafts – poles. Many of these weapons were found on the upper deck, ready for use in the open waist or on the castle decks above. Beside them they found open chests of longbows and some of the most up-to-date rifle-like weapons imported from Italy. Other weapons, including shields fitted with a small handgun, may have belonged to one of the Royal Bodyguards – the Yeomen of the Guard or the Gentlemen Pensioners. Most of the crew carried their own daggers and officers also carried their own swords for hand-to-hand fighting.

Two shields had decorated bosses [22] around the gun barrel. The shields [23] are made of two layers of narrow strips of wood, laid at right angles to each other, and covered with thin steel plates fixed with brass nails. Although incomplete, boss [24] was found with these copper alloy strips [25] cut and impressed to look like oak leaves. These covered the joins of the steel plates.

Archer Royal
The archer carried a sword in a decorated scabbard and an ornate pomander – the only one found.
Five silver groats found within his clothing and extensive silk uniform edging suggest a man of high status. His leather wristguard is decorated with the Arms of England, one of only two recovered.
Twice during his reign, in 1509 and 1539, Henry VIII raised a special troop of fifty trusted nobles. Retained at his expense, these ‘Spears of Honour’ or ‘Gentlemen Pensioners’ formed a personal guard and each ‘Spear’ had to ‘furnish and make ready two good archers, to do anything the king commanded’.
In 1544, Sir George Carew, Captain of the Mary Rose, was made a Lieutenant of the Gentlemen Pensioners. Was our African archer one of these ‘two good archers’?

Archers wore a leather jerkin, a longbow was found nearby. Also a pomander (a holder for sweet smelling herbs and flowers) was attached to his sword scabbard with a plaited silk cord. All that remains of his sword are its beech handle and leather fragments of his sword belt and hanger. His wrist guard bears the Crown and badges of the Tudor family and Katharine of Aragon. The Latin inscriptions on it translate as: ”Shame on him who is this evil”, and “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with Thee”.

Inside the folds of his jerkin were found a leather case with the impression of his comb. A silk band is all that remains of his hat. The woven silk ribbon may be the edging from a uniform. Beside the archer, was also found the handles of a small knife and a ballock dagger – which was a common weapon for personal defence. Archers were relatively well paid and among his clothing and possessions were five silver groats. Only parts of this archer’s shoes survive but show the leather where a brass buckle and copper lace ends together with fragments of wooden socks.

The museum is laid out such that you traverse the length of the ship four times, but in each walking pass you are in sealed glass corridors separated from the actual ship. Here, at the top of the gallery, visitors are finally in the same space as the ship. It is as you traverse this gallery that you can smell the salt and the timber and the age of the Mary Rose, as you look down on the recovered ship.

A number of musical instruments were recovered from the Mary Rose. Used primarily for entertainment during non-working hours, the instruments number and quality varied considerably.

Living in Style
Only the very rich owned items made of silver and gold. A substitute was pewter, which is an alloy of tin, with small amounts of lead, copper and antimony. However, pewter was not cheap – it was an occasional purchase even for the wealthy. Most of the pewterware found on the Mary Rose belonged to the captain, Sir George Carew, vice admiral of the King’s fleet. Other pewter items used by the officers were found in the area of the aftercastle, where the officers lived, or they safely stowed in personal chests. Close examination of the plates reveal marks left by the diners’ knives.

Keeping the Faith
The 1540s was a time of great religious upheaval. The monasteries had been closed and religious images had been removed from the churches. But faith was unshaken, and they found numerous objects which demonstrate that religion was still central to the lives of the men on board the Mary Rose. The objects include book covers with quotations from the Bible, archers’ wrist-guards with religious symbols, images of saints and references to the Virgin Mary. They also found eight rosaries, and while rosaries were not banned, the mechanical reciting of prayers using the beads had been condemned in 1538. Only one rosary was found in a chest – the others were being carried on someone’s person when the ship went down. Objects with a religious significance were found on all decks of the ship. They testify that, for at least some of the crew, the practices of the Catholic Church were still being followed in 1545.

Clothing
Men usually wore a hat of some kind – this one is knitted. The pocket appears to be on the inside of this leather jerkin, but it is double-sided and can be worn either way round. Though not as colourful as it once was, this woollen jerkin retains the rose madder dye – even after centuries underwater.

Wealthy officers fastened their belts with fine brass buckles. These fragments of checked material are all that remains of one man’s shirt. These buttons and finely decorated pewter clasp’s could have been used to fasten an officer’s shirt or cloak. Two of the clasps are decorated with a Tudor rose and one with a fleur-de-lis.

There are entire books written just on the footwear found on the Mary Rose.

Various leather drink flasks, with carved decorations. Interestingly one has an Irish harp carved into it.

Most men carried a person dagger, many of them ballock daggers popular during the period.

The Mary Rose Museum has an enormous catalogue of artefacts, and I imagine this is only a fraction of what the collection entails – especially given the allusion to the sheer number of skeletons recovered, and many of them would have had clothing and domestic objects on/nearby in varying states of decomposition. They have done an excellent job of laying out the different occupations and associated belongings of the different types of people who lived on board and engaged in widely varied activities, though the informational plaques did get a little confusing at times as it seemed to occasionally double back on people/occupations already covered (literally redressing something that seemed explained in a previous gallery). I spent about two hours in here absorbing as much as I could, and probably could have spent even longer.

National Museum of Ireland, Dublin

Somewhat wet and miserable day in Dublin… what to do, what to do? Find the National museum of course. Took a couple of Ubers via the First Chapter coffee shop, to avoid the cold and wet – worth it!

Wow! What an amazing building! The entry/vestibule is so impressive with its gorgeous domed ceiling and beautiful mosaiced floor. I do wish England/Ireland hadn’t embraced this trend for forgoing cloakrooms and/or lockers though. What a pain in the arse to have to carry your coat, scarf and outer layers for a couple of hours through a museum. :/ Europe is still insisting you cloak your shit – anything bigger than a handbag – into a locker it goes, I much prefer it tbh.

Most of the descriptions here are literally copied and pasted from the object’s description plaques, hence the lack of form guide in listing dates, and the weird capitalisation. I could re-type it all, but when you’re travelling and writing on an iPad, time is limited!

Bronze bells, St Mary’s Abbey, Howth, Co. Dublin. Late medieval period.

DECORATED STONE, Youghal, Co. Cork. 2500-1700 В.С.

A necklace of gold beads
Perhaps the most mysterious of all the gold ornaments of the Late Bronze Age are the hollow gold beads found at Tumna, Co. Roscommon in 1834. Eleven beads are said to have been found when a group of men were tilling land near Tumna church beside the Shannon River. Each bead is made in two sections which are fused together. They are perforated which suggests that they were intended to be strung together. The graduated size of the beads also suggests a necklace of massive size. After the discovery the beads were divided amongst various collectors. Gradually over a period of about 150 years nine of the original eleven were acquired by the Royal Irish Academy and the National Museum of Ireland, one is in the collections of the British Museum but the whereabouts of the one remaining bead are unknown.

HOARD CONTAINING A GOLD BRACELET, A GOLD DRESS FASTENER, TWO BRONZE RINGS AND AN AMBER NECKLACE. Meenwaun, [Banagher], Co. Offaly. c. 800-700 B.C.

GOLD AND AMBER BEADS. Cruttenclough, Co. Kilkenny. Later Bronze Age

Part of a hoard of gold ornaments consisting of collars, bracelets, two neck rings, and a double ring.
Mooghaun North, Co. Clare. с. 800-700 В.С.

14. Amber bead. Unknown locality. 900-500BC
Amber Nekclaces C. Cavan. 900-500BC

Bronze chain-link collar. Near O’Connor’s Castle, Co.Rosecommon. c900-500BC.

Collection of swords, Dowris Hoard. Doors sheath, Co.Offaly, c.900-500BC

Selection of horns and other objects of the Dowris Hoard. Doorosheath, Co. Offaly, 900-500BC.

Enamelled bronze belt buckles, Louth Gara, Co. Sligo. Late 7th-early 8thC AD

Penannular bronze brooch, Arthurstown, Co. Kildare, 6th-7thC AD.

Bronze mount with enamel and millefiori, Big Island Lugacaha, Co. Westmeath 6-7thC AD.

Bronze fibula with enamel insets Lough Ree, Co. Longford, 1stC AD.

Enamelled bronze mount, Coolure Demesne, Co. Westmeath, 7th-8thC AD.

Gilt bronze harness mounts, Athlumney Navan, Co. Meath, 8-9thC AD.

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Ogham script is the earliest form of writing known in Ireland.
It is a system of linear symbols cut on either side of, or across, a baseline. Ogham is modelled on the Roman alphabet and consists of 20 letters. The key to ogham script is recorded in the Book of Ballymote, a later medieval text. More than 300 inscriptions survive on stone. They are particularly common in the southwest of Ireland and date to between the 4th and 6th centuries AD. Ogham stones surviving in parts of England, Scotland and Wales are a testament to Irish presence in these areas. The majority of inscriptions record personal names and can be considered commemorative inscriptions or perhaps boundary markers.

The Cross of Cong is one of the greatest treasures of the era. It was made to enshrine a portion of the True Cross acquired in AD 1122 by Toirrdelbach Ua Conchobair, High King of Ireland. An inscription records the names of Ua Conchobair, two high-ranking clerics and the craftsmen who made it.
The cross is made of oak covered with plain sheets of bronze. Panels decorated with animal interlace overlay these plain sheets. The relic, now missing, would have been visible behind the rock crystal at the centre of the cross-arms. A staff could be inserted at the base to enable the cross to be carried in procession. The shape of the cross-arms recalls the Tully Lough Cross, made almost four centuries earlier, but the decoration is in the late Scandinavian Urnes style. The glass and enamel studs are characteristic of Irish Romanesque metalwork.

The llth and 12th centuries witnessed the production of a large number of highly decorated religious objects. Croziers, which were used by abbots and bishops, are the commonest type of church metalwork from this period, but enshrined bells and books also survive. These items were symbols of power and authority. Inscriptions on some of these treasures name royal patrons and important churchmen and suggest that the commissioning of such objects was as much a political statement as it was a religious act. Political power in 12th-century Ireland was held by a small number of provincial kings who were generous patrons of the Church. A major reform of the Irish church at this time shifted power from the monasteries to bishops who controlled dioceses. Rivalries ensued as competing groups attempted to lay claim to these new centres of power. The production of ornate church treasures inscribed with the names of key political figures can be seen as a reflex of these power struggles.

Shrine of St. Lachtin’s Arm. Donaghmore, Co. Cork, c. AD 1120.

Saint Patrick’s Bell and Shrine, Armagh Co. Armagh, 6th-8th century AD and AD 1100.

Silver chalice, Reerasta, Ardagh, Co. Limerick, 8th century

Tomb shaped shrine, River Shannon, 8-9thC AD

The Golden Age of Irish Art.
Metal artefacts of the period show unparalleled skill and artistry. Ornamentation
on metal, on stone and on illuminated manuscripts shows close links in style and symbolism. Contacts with Pictish Scotland, Anglo-Saxon England, Germanic Europe and the Mediterranean region exposed Irish craftsmen to new metalworking techniques and art styles. Irish craftsmen blended these styles with native late Celtic ornament to produce a distinctive new style. The greatest artistic achievements of the new style date to between the late 7th and the early 9th centuries, a period often described as the Golden Age of early Irish art. The Church was a major patron of the arts and it enjoyed the support of important political families. Secular artefacts, such as the Tara brooch, also survive.

The Tara Brooch, Bettystown, Co. Meath, 8th century AD

Silver paten and bronze stand, Derrynaflan, Co. Tipperary, 8th century AD

Gold ribbon torc, near Belfast, Co. Antrim, 3rdC BC to 3rdC AD.

The Broighter Hoard
The hoard of gold objects from Broighter, Co. Derry, is the most exceptional find of Iron Age metalwork in Ireland. The tubular collar, miniature boat and cauldron, two neck chains and pair of twisted collars (torcs), which date to the Ist century BC, were found on the ancient shore of Lough Foyle in Co. Derry. The sea god Manannán mac Lir was associated with Lough Foyle and the place-name Broighter (from the Irish Brú lochtair) may be a reference to his underwater residence. Most notable is the model gold boat with its mast, rowing benches, oars and other fittings that can be regarded as an appropriate offering to a sea god. The decoration on the tubular collar appears to include a highly stylised horse, an animal that is especially associated with Manannán mac Lir.

DECORATED LEATHER BOTTLE, Found feet deep in bog, Cloonclose, Co. Leitrim, Early Medieval.

Replica of Gokstad Faering
The battle of Clontarf was fought on the shores of Dublin Bay and a fleet of Viking ships played a significant part. This boat is a replica of one found in 1880 in a burial mound at Gokstad, Norway, where a Norse lord had been buried in a great Viking ship dating to c. 900AD. Accompanying the ship was a smaller fishing boat, crewed by two oarsmen, known as a faering, which is in many respects a miniature Viking ship. It shares many of the same features and techniques – such as the clinker-built oak planking and the side rudder.

The Dunmore Cave hoard – This hoard was hidden in Dunmore Cave around 965-70.
The most interesting objects are sixteen hollow cones, woven from fine silver wire in three sizes. They were probably connected to a knitted fringe of exceptionally delicate coiled silver wire. The fringe, in turn, was probably attached to an imported silk cloth, of which a tiny fragment survived. There is also a decorated buckle and matching strap-end, whose form and decoration suggests that they were made in Dublin and this may also be true for the silver cones.

Skave Chain, Near Strokestown, Co. Rosecommon.
This fearsome chain and collar for a slave or hostage was found in Dublin and may possibly have been made there. It was found mid19-thC possibly on a crannog.

The shrine of the ‘Stowe Missal’, c.1030
This shrine held an 8th-century mass-book for the monastery of Lorrha. An inscription on the base requests prayers for the ‘king of Ireland, Donnchad, son of Brian and Gormlaith. Donnchad reigned for many years after Clontarf but was never generally recognised as king of Ireland. Lorrha, Co. Tipperary.

9th Century Viking cemeteries at Kalmainham and Irelandbridge, Dublin.
The Vikings in Ireland as elsewhere in Europe were not Christianised until the late 10thC. Their burial customs were pagan and the wealthiest were buried with their person: possessions. The cemeteries associated with the earliest, 9thC, Viking settlement at Dublin were located on a ridge overlooking the Liffey in the area now occupied by the modern suburbs of Kilmainham and Islandbridge. One of these cemeteries was located on the site of an earlier Irish monastery at Kilmainham. It is believed that the first Viking fortified encampment at Dublin, established in 841, may have been located nearby.
Most of the objects were recovered in the course of grave digging and in the building of the railway line in the 1840s, 50s and 60s. The presence of weapons, tools and brooches among the finds indicate that both men and women were buried there. The finds recovered represent at least fifty burials, and it is the largest known Viking cemetery outside

Eight iron swords, 10th-11thC.

Copper alloy buckles, belt ends and pins. 9thC.

Roasting spit? 9thC

Three pairs of copper alloy brooches with strings of glass beads.
Oval brooches are typical finds in women’s graves of the Viking Age and indicate that women of importance were also buried there. Spinning and weaving were tasks carried out by women and objects such as the whalebone ‘ironing board’, spindle whorls and bronze needle case are further evidence of female burials. The presence of a number of folding weighing scales, purses and weights indicates that some of the Viking settlers in ninth century Dublin were merchants while the iron tongs and hammers suggest the presence of smiths. Some of the brooches and pins from these burials are of Irish manufacture and indicate that the Vikings of Dublin, as elsewhere, adopted Irish fashions of jewellery and, perhaps dress.

Copper alloy balance scales, 9thC AD. With lead alloy weights.

One pair of Oval brooches, Finglas, Co. Dublin.

Museum replicas of Irish viking costumes.

Pair of copper alloy oval brooches and chain from a burial ot Arklow, Co. Wicklow. The chain is curiously Baltic in origin, it is possible the wearer may have been gifted the chain to wear with the locally made brooches, or herself came from that region.

Silver sword fitting – no known locality.

Ballinderry Crannog, Co. Westneath, c850-1000
The crannog, or artificial lake dwelling at Ballinderry, excavated in 1932, provides the most complete picture of life in a rural settlement between the late 9th and early 11th centuries. Its size and the variety and richness of the objects found suggest that it was the homestead of a prosperous farmer or a local king. The fields and pasture lands were probably located on nearby dry land, reached by hollowed oak longboats or canoes.

Wooden stave-built bucket, c.850-1000 AD.

Wooden gaming board, c.850-1000AD

Leather shoe, Carrigallen, Co. Leitrim, c.9-10thC.

16 SILVER ARM-RINGS – These arm-rings, made of thick bars of silver, are decorated with a variety of stamped patterns. They were current between the late 9th and early 10th centuries and over sixty examples are known from Ireland. They were manufactured in Ireland, probably in the Viking settlements and some have been found in hoards in Scotland, England and Norway.

GOLD ARM-RING – This simple but massive arm-ring, made of three twisted rods of gold, is the largest surviving Viking Age gold ornament from Ireland, weighing 375 g. The heaviest gold hoard from the Viking Age was also found in Ireland at Hare Island, Lough Ree in 1802 and consisted of ten gold arm-rings weighing approximately 5kg. Unfortunately, that hoard was melted down shortly after its discovery.

7 – silver ring ingot, part of a hoard from Derrynahich, Co. Kilkenny.
8 – silver brooch with gold filigree, Mohill, Co. Leitrim.
9 – Ring of silver penannular brooch in two pieces – location unknown.
10 – Head of silver kite brooch – location unknown.
11 – head of a silver thistle brooch – location unknown.
12 – Two silver rod arm-ring fragments, – location unknown.

WOODEN BUCKETS, Cloonarragh, Co. Roscommon, 10th-11 th century
Found together with a third, stave-built vessel in a bog. The stave-built vessel shown here is secured by a pair of wooden hoops, the other vessel is carved from a single block.

WOODEN BOWL, Cuillard, Co. Roscommon, 8th- 9th century, The bowl contained butter when it was discovered, indicating that the storage of butter in bogs was one way of keeping surplus food.

Inlaid glass beads, Clough Co. Antrim, Tristernagh. Glass bracelets and strings, c.8-9thC

Four lead alloy disc brooches, High St, Christchurch Place, Winetavern, c.8-9thC

Copper alloy buckles, belt and strap ends, High St, Winetavern, c.8th-9thC

Model of a typical Viking settlement in Ireland, c.8th-9thC

DUBLIN – Amber, glass, jet and Lignite.
Amber was brought to Dublin in lumps probably having been collected along the shores of the Baltic Sea, mainly in Denmark. These lumps were converted to beads, pendants, earrings and finger rings. An amber worker’s house was identified at Fishamble Street where the floor was strewn with several hundred waste flakes and tiny spicules. Jet was probably brought from Yorkshire, and was used mainly in the production of bracelets, finger rings and earrings. It too appears to been worked in Dublin as was glass, possibly from imported pieces of old Roman glass.

Amber pendants, finger rings, unfinished amber beads, necklaces beads and fragments. Fishamble St, c.8-9thC.

Glass beads, discs and spindles. Some unfinished. Fishamble St. c.8-9thC.
It is likely that some glass beads were made locally from pieces of broken glass imported from old Roman towns in England, such as Chester and York.

Antler and bone were used for knife handles, gaming pieces, buckles, and as panels for boxes. Bone was used for spindle whorls, spindles and weaving tablets. Whale bone was used for clamps or hand-vices as well as for caulking spatulas. Walrus tusk were also used for gaming pieces and pendants.

Decorated bone and antler plaques, and antler combs, Christchurch Place, Fishamble St. c.8-9thC.

Decorated antler strap ends. High St, Fishamble St.

Motif pieces, antler and bone. High St, Fishamble St. c.8-9thC

Weapons and Luxury Goods – 11th to 12th Centuries. Weapons, tableware and sets of gaming pieces were among the most prized possessions of kings and nobles in the early medieval period. Most of our knowledge of weapons from the later Viking Age comes from stray finds of objects lost in rivers and lakes. Shallow drinking bowls of copper alloy and silver were imported from the Continent. In some cases these imported bowls were adapted to Irish taste by the addition of enamelled hooks of local manufacture. Gaming boards and gaming pieces are known from the tenth century onwards. The game of chess, however, was not introduced to Europe from the Islamic world until some time in the eleventh century.

Copper alloy sword pommels, gilt copper alloy swords, Iron swords, locations unknown.
Iron axe head with wooden handle, River Robe, Ballinrobe, Co.Mayo. C11th.

Bronze bells, Donoghmore, Co Tyrone. 11-15thC

MANCHAN’S SHRINE (REPLICA), Lemanaghan, Co. Offaly, 12thC
The original shrine, made to contain the bones of St Manchan, was most likely produced by the same individual that produced the Cross of Cong. Its ornament, known as the Hiberno-Urnes style, is a blending of a late Viking art style with native Irish art. This nineteenth-century replica, which is a restored version of the original; made by Alexander Carte for Dr John Lentaigne.

Inscribed Grave Marker, Clonmacnoise, Co, Offaly. 9th-10thC.
One of several hundred memorial slabs from the cemetery of Clonmacnoise. It bears the name ‘Sechnasach’ along with a cross and some geometric ornament. It is unusual in that it is made from a reused mill or quern.

Shring, copper alloy, gilt and enamelled, early 11th C. Drum lane, Co, Cavan.

Leather satchel, 15th C, Drumlane Co. Cavan – to house the shrine.

Knight Jug. Wine jug decorated with figures of armoured knights and monkeys. It was imported from pottery kilns at Ham Green, near Bristol. Pottery, 13thC. Found High St, Dublin.

Wooden, two to four handed mether tankards. Carved from single pieces of alder, c.14thC. Co. Donegal.

Various precious and semi precious jewelled items.

Gilt silver cross pendant, c.1500. Provence not listed.

Gold finger ring, c.14thC. Provenance not listed.

Knitted cap, 16thC AD. Ballybunnion, Co. Kerry.
This knitted wooden cap was found in Co. Kerry in 1847. This style of cap was fashioned up to the 1580s and made from expensive materials. Often decorated with jewels and feathers. Traditional records that when it was found, the cap had a gold band around the crown.

Often overlooked, I love that the building this collection is housed in is somewhat of a work of art itself.

Bronze laver, believed to be Flemish, c.1425.

Cross Pendant, obverse is engraved with an image of the Crucifixion and symbols of four Evangelists.
Silver gilt with glass and garnet settings, c.1500. Near Callan Co. Kilkenny.

Rock crystal with silver mounting, 15thC.

Reliquary Cross, T-shapedor Tau cross indicates it was designed to protect the wearer from disease known as St Anthony’s Fire, whose symptoms included burning sensations. Contains a cavity to hold a reliquary. Gilt silver, c.1500.

Seal ring with a central image of a human figure inside the doorway to a turret castle. Flanked by engraved images of the Virgin and Child and Holy Trinity. Gold, 15thC, Girley, Co.Mealth.

Shrine of the Cathach. Made to contain a 7thC manuscript believed to be written by Columba himself. The Cathach (battler) was one of the chief treasures of the O’Donnells throughout the Middle Ages. They carried it into battle to bring good luck. IT’s keeepers were the Magroarty family, one of whom was killed when the shrine was captured in 1497. Wood with gilt silver, silver fittings, rock crystal. Late 11th-14thC, Ballynagroarty, Co. Donegal.

Shrine of Patrick’s Trail. This is a complex piece made up of portions of different objects. It’s a purse shaped form dates to the mid-14thC when it was covered at the request of Thomas Birmingham, Lord of Athenry. The shrine was used in the early 19thC for curing sick animals. St John, the Virgin Mary and figures of Irish Saints flank the figure of Christ on the front.

Bell, copper alloy, silver inlay. 11th-12thC. Scattery Island, Co.Clare.

Overall, this musuem on Kildare Street was well worth a visit. It has some fabulously obscure objects – though I did find the curation had more of a focus on *where* something was found rather then where is was created/made. Sometimes that info was a bit buried under the lead.

Belfast and Giants Causeway

I’ve wanted to come to Belfast and in particular go up to Giant’s Causeway since 1995. Only on that trip to the UK, we couldnt’.  Myself, BigSal and BluddyMary had hired a car to drive around the UK for 6 weeks – extremely decadent, and only possible due to a corker of a British Airways deal that BigSal had found us; our BNE to LHR flights came with a free side trip to a number of European capitals and 7 days free car hire. Per person!  Else, I’m not sure we could have afforded to hire a car for such a long period of time in our early 20s.  There were, sadly, two restrictions on the whole travelling by rental car thing… 1) I was the only driver because the other two didn’t have their damn licenses! and, 2)  we couldn’t take the rental car into Northern Ireland because of The Troubles.  Having no desire to be blown up, bailed up or held up, and also being somewhat law abiding and risk adverse (we would not be insured if we did), we sensibly stayed away.  Anyway, it’s been on my list ever since.  Only 30 years in the waiting to get here… fucking puffins still on the list – but that is another story! 

I found us a day trip from Dublin to see the Causeway and Belfast, (primarily to see the Titanic Museum), and while it promised to be a long day, I was hoping for a good guide so it would prove to be an informative and if we were lucky, entertaining.  Happily, we had an amazing guide named, Quiggs.  Quiggs was quick-witted, interesting, and stuffed full of interesting cultural and historical tidbits.

On the drive out of Dublin, we learned all about Irish oral story telling and musical traditions, and had a quick lesson in Irish language!  Quiggs was raised speaking Irish and is one of only 2% of Irish people who are fluent in Irish… the Irish language is seeing a resurgence in recent years thanks to the promotion and sponsoring of Irish language programs in schools.  It’s great to see them fostering their language before it is lost.  Quiggs also spoke English (with a university level proficiency) and some French and German – which came in handy as we had people on our tour from France, Italy, Germany, Greece, Turkey, the US and all over.  He set the tone early by laying down the law… he was not going to suffer lolllygaggers and threatened to make any late comers sing if they returned to the bus even one minute late and held up the entire group!  I loved it!  Great idea… more guides should rule their pax’s with the threat of public ridicule, I say.

Quiggs was particularly passionate about sharing his interest in Irish language, he told us all about how Irish speaking Catholics were subjugated and disenfranchised.  Literally kids were beat at school for speaking Irish at school, those that were fortunate enough to attend school, that is.  The children would be given a card to wear around their neck, and every time they were heard to be speaking in Irish, they would get a knot tied in their cord, which resulting in a numbered beating at the end of their school day. 

At one point in the English attempts to quash Irishness, educating Catholics was made illegal entirely and Hedge Schools emerged – as the name suggests, primary aged children were taught informally in the hedgerows.

The plan of course was to destroy Irish identity – it was banned in business, banned in parliament, in legal circles and in courts of laws. To the point where the Irish speaking Catholics were literally unable to defend themselves if accused of a crime.  They would be put on trial, in English, and unable to explain or defend their actions in English, it led to a many wrongful convictions and even wrongful deaths.   In order to maintain this status quo, Catholics were disenfranchised by minimising their voting power.  Good Catholic families would breed prolifically, so outnumbered their Protestant counterparts quite considerably, so in order to suppress their voting power, they legislated that voting was connected to property ownership – one property, one vote.  Thus ten adult Catholics living in one home only got one vote.  One wealthy Protestant who owned multiple properties managed to get as many votes as properties he owned! 

As we neared the border to Northern Ireland, Quiggs told us stories of The Troubles… personal accounts of incidents that happened to his grandfather, his mother and his father – they all had stories of tense face offs with border guards.  His mother nearly got herself shot to pieces going across over the border in the wee hours of the night, when she fell asleep behind the wheel due to extreme fatigue and nearly drove into the guard house.  She apparently woke herself at the last moment and slammed on the bakes; the guards were all standing, pointing at her with their firearms and yelling at her to get out of the car.  It sounds like his poor Mam went into shock, and when the soldiers realised what had happened they took her inside, gave her coffee to wake her up and let her stop shaking before sending her on her way.  His father’s run in-was somewhat more of a ‘fuck you’ student protest type interaction, where he was refusing to provide identification when trying to cross the border.  All up, it sounded scary, tense and totally understandable that Hertz wouldn’t let us take our car into Northern Ireland in 1995!

We learned how political prisoners were treated by the English, and how they protested from their positions of incarceration – work strikes, ‘dirty strikes (refusal to use the toilets because they frequently got beaten for leaving their cells alone – so they took to pissing on the floors of their cells and smearing their shit all over the place), to hunger strikes.  All of which didn’t move the English govt at all.  Eventually the IRA decided to start trying to take over by electing members of their people to parliament and even elected people who were imprisoned, who naturally couldn’t take up their roles.

I’m going to have to do some more reading into how the current peace was reached, but in many ways, Quiggs was painting a situation that conveyed that even though the hard border is gone and most people want to co-exist in peace, there is still a lot of tension between the Irish Catholic part of the country and the Protestant northerners.  The police stations and court houses still have 12’ tall, 3’ wide thick concrete wall around them, and the memory of frequent bombings at the Europa Hotel (The most bombed hotel in the world apparently… the IRA had a habit of setting off bombs in the hotel, as it’s location made it a prime spot for the world’s journalists to stay when they were covering the tensions, so when they wanted a bit of attention, a small bomb at the hotel would wake them up. Literally.) are still very recent.  Quiggs says it wouldn’t take much to set the violence off all over again.

Belfast looks much like Dublin… though slightly fewer visible pubs perhaps?  The name Belfast comes from the Irish words for ‘fast river’… which is neither here nor there at this point in this post. But there you have it.

We passed through Belfast and picked up some pax on our way north to the Giant’s Causeway. On the way we stopped at Dunluce Caste – or rather, what remains of it. Dunluce Castle is a ruin of a medieval castle in Northern Ireland and was/is (?) the seat of the Clan MacDonnel. It hangs out on the edge of a basalt outcrop in County Antrim and is only accessible by a bridge that connects it to the mainland. It is surrounded by incredibly steep slopes on either side and this was probably what made it so defensible for the early Christians when the Vikings were coming to invade. It’s been there for a solid 500 years, and was most recently made famous by being used as a film set in Game of Thrones to represent the Pyke Islands or something, which is where Castle Greyjoy is fantastically located.

Quiggs, himself.

So on the way out to the Causeway, Quiggs gave us a very Google-able explanation for the rock formations at Giant’s Causeway, but continued on to say that “That is all bollocks.”. Because, the real formation, as legend has it, was due to Northern Irelandw once being home to a giant named Finn McCool (also called Fionn Mac Cumhaill). At that time, there was another giant – Benandonner, across the Irish Sea in Scotland who was threatening Ireland, such that Finn retaliated by tearing up great chunks of the Antrim coastline and hurling them into the sea. The newly-created pathway – the Giant’s Causeway – paved an accessible route over the sea for Finn to reach Benandonner.

However, this turned out to be a bad idea as Benandonner is a massive giant, much bigger than Finn was! So, upon realising this, in order to save himself, Finn retreated to Ireland and disguised himself as a baby, thanks to an idea from his quick-thinking wife. When Benandonner arrives, he sees Finn disguised as a baby and realises that if a mere baby is that big, the father must be far larger than Benandonner himself!

Following this realisation, Benandonner rushes back to Scotland, tearing away as much of the Causeway as he can in his haste to put as much distance between Ireland and himself as possible. And thus, the myth of the Giant’s Causeway was born.

It was great fun rock-hopping around on the basalt at Giant’s Causeway – can’t say my new knee was super appreciative of it though… that or the cold is getting to it, which would be a bitch if it hangs around long term!

Ms Stephola doing her best interpretation of a siren…

Face in the rock face.

The Giant’s Gateway

Giant’s Causeway is a gorgeous area to explore. It was however, rather cold and while thankfully not raining, very windy and cold. They run a neat little electric bus shuttle up and down to the rocks (quiet and unobtrusive, good job) for the grand cost of £1 per person each way. So we availed ourselves of that service to get back to the quaint little pub near our pick up spot – called, would you believe it, “The Nook”..!

On a cold day like today – all I ever want is a cup of port. Sadly, had to settle for a polite glass of port instead.

One of the pax from our bus did the right thing – ordered himself a whiskey with an ‘e’, and a Guinness chaser.

Next stop on our little tour was to a look out point to see the suspension bridge that links this strange wee island to the mainland. And off in the other direction is a headland that was also used in Game of Thrones as ‘Dragonstone’… nope, I have no recollection of Dragonstone at all.

More brief Game of Thrones stops – this time the “Dark Hedges” which Arya is chased by someone through a foreboding looking forest. This was a disappointing stop – not because there has been a huge reduction in the amount of trees lining this avenue, because there has been; but because of the sheer amount of rubbish people have left laying around this area. Gotta say, if it’s a damn tourist spot you want and we are literally stopping by to admire the Nature (TM), you might want to provide more bins or invest in some people to clean up.

This is a Robin Redbreast – obviously – first one I have ever seen. He was super tame and let me take a handful of close photos of him before I accidentally startled him.

After that it was back to Belfast to drop some people to the city centre, while the rest of us went to the Titanic Museum… and what a cool building that turned out to be! The architect here really understood the brief. It’s as though the famously egotistical Bruce Ismay was in charge of the design of the Musuem “I wanted to convey sheer size, and size means stability, luxury, and above all, strength.”. The building is enormous, and starkly sits out beside the dockyards conveying exactly that – size, scale, general hugeness!

The displays inside were a bit too Disney-fied for my liking… by that I mean, I am getting sick and tired of museums that want to create an ‘experience’ to spoon feed the history to the unwilling. I saw it at Ghent Cathedral with their godawful virtual reality tour of the crypts; same with the over stimulating and confusing audio narrative at the museum for the Battle of the Bulge at Bourgogne which was so over the top, it prohibited visitors from reading ANY of the information plaques, and we see it again here with the over videos and 3D experiences and interactive exhibits. I get it! The internet age has seen people’s attention span shrink to that of a hyperactive goldfish – but there has to be some spaces left in-Hollywood’ed where solemn information can be absorbed in a mature and academic manner… doesn’t there?

Perfect example – this exhibit was about the designs and plans for the ship. But we can’t just have some images of extant plans and an explanation of the design principles in use and their various failings – no, we need to have 40’ projected scrolling floor of plans that distract you from absorbing any actual information about the actual plans. It looks cool – but did I learn anything? Nope.

The Arrol Gantry was specially built to construct the Titanic – as Belfast was a very famous ship building yard – but even here, they didn’t have anything large enough to support a build of this scale.

And then we got funneled onto the Titanic Experience Ride… It took about 8 minutes and I’m not sure what we were supposed to learn from this other than ‘shit be huge, bitches!’. There was no point to this. It talked about people working long hours, in sometimes dark and dangerous conditions in the bowels of the emerging ship. I can only imagine this it to stop iGen kids from getting bored…

They put us in a little car that was hung from these extending arms that lifted and dropped to show you different static projected images. It was soooo Disney, I cann’t describe it any other way.

Once we got past The Ride – there were more informative boards and images that showed how the ship was built, but I noticed, a LOT of people weren’t reading much, they were skipping on past looking for the next fast dopamine hit instead. You train people that they are there – and their attention for steady reading is gone!

Man this thing was huge! But it didn’t have anything on a modern cruise ship – so I am not sure why it still feels so enormous in the imagination.

So – the one thing I did learn was that the ship was actually launched officially nearly a full year before it sunk. I was unaware of this, and initially couldn’t figure out what it had been doing from May 1911 to April 1912 when it sank, until we got a bit further around and discovered that most of that time was the ship being outfitted. They built it on land, then launch it onto the water, and it was only then that the internal fittings – carpentry, furniture, staterooms, recreational facilities etc are all installed.

Literally launched here:

Back on the design of the actual museum – it is a very impressive building! And totally conveys the sense of scale / size / enormity that people associate with the Titanic.

After the section on the build of the ship, there was a few galleries dedicated to the fit out. The White Star Line and their custom crockery remind me of Third Reich crockery – though I don’t know why? Hubris, perhaps?

I have long been amused by cruise ship carpets – they are usually crazy bright bespoke creations that presumably are designed to cover a thousand spilled cocktails… seems this is not a new trend! The carpets on the Titanic were also bespoke designed bright coloured monstrosities.

Wood was used for many parts of Titanic’s internal fitout. Huge quantities of wooden furniture and fittings were made for her public rooms and cabins. Years ago in 2014, Mr K and I stayed at the Waldorf Astoria in New York for a week or so and we were told that the timber work and panelling in the lifts and lobby of that hotel were created by the same carpenters and cabinet makers who created all the timber work for the Titanic. It is literally the same wood and was made by the same highly skilled craftsmen.

Very cool – and you can definitely see the similar artistic influence being carried through from that location to that on the ship.

An extant copy of the luncheon menu from the day the Titanic sunk! 😮

This is where the building, creating and fitting out info for the ship finished and we turned to the disaster of the Titanic sinking in the museum experience. You can feel the turn from explaining the scale and grandeur of the ship to the impending peril on this verandah that you traverse – it is designed to look like a promenade deck, complete with shuffle board, and a HUGE three story projection of roiling seas… suddenly things don’t feel so ‘marvel at our engineering’ anymore.

There were multiple story boards in a number of rooms that lead you through the disaster itself – many of which detailed the comms from the Titanic after it hit the iceberg all taken verbatim from the ship’s logs. Then the displays of the human toll: the survivors, and the not so fortunate.

A two story wall listing the names of all the people on the Titanic – very clearly showing how few were saved.

An extant life jacket – exactly like the ones in the film. It was recovered from an unknown Titanic victim. No records exist of who wore this jacket, it was recovered by the crew of the ‘Mackay-Bennet’ one of the ships that responded to give Titanic aid. Only twelve of the ship’s life jackets are known to remain out of a total of 3,500 that were onboard the ship. This makes it an extremely rare artifact. They were manufactured out of linen and cork of all things.

Downstairs is long gallery listing the changes to maritime safety that were introduced after the Titanic sunk. The new laws enforcing that all ships needed to have at least as many lifeboat spaces as the number of people that could board, as well as laws that required safety drills that included passengers, and laws regulating binoculars for lookouts and maximum speeds in ice fields in the North Atlantic… apparently these things were more ‘guidelines’ prior to the Titanic disaster.

It’s hard to fathom the depths of the ocean – I can’t envisage it. I also can’t imagine why some dedicated their lives to hunting for this ship.

An original deck chair from Titanic – recovered from the surface by the same ship, the ‘Mackay-Bennet’. It has a star on the headrest indicating the White Star Line and a brass name tag on the rear – it is one of only six known to have survived.

This is a ‘loving cup’ made of sterling silver presented to Sir Arthur Henry Royston, the captain of the Carpatia – the first ship to respond to Titanic’s calls for aids. It was given to him by Margaret “Molly” Brown. She also gave his entire crew medals made of gold, silver and bronze depending on their rank and chair a fund-raising committee for survivors.

The Unsinkalbe Molly Borwn and Captain Rostron of the Carpathia.

This must be one of the most famous violins in the world. It belonged to one of Titanic’s heroic musicians, Wallace Hartley. It was apparently a gift from his fiancée, Maria Robinson. It was made in Germany, c.1880 and was engraved : “For Wallace on the occasion of our engagement from Maria”. The violin has become an ubiqutious symbol of courage of spirit of those very famous musicians who chose to play until the very end of the Titanic disaster. They are the reason we say, “And the band played on…” to describe bravery in the face of adversity.

The next gallery was full of Titanic paraphernalia in popular culture – bit like the ‘References’ section at the bottom of a Wikipedia page! Most of it was a bit naff.

I’m not sure about this – I know the Jack and Rose thing on the movie made the whole picture on the bow thing famous – but this tableau for tourist to have their photo taken in, felt a little tasteless right at the end of the section of the museum that delved most into the disaster and its impacts. Naturally after this, you exit through the gift shop – and while it was filled with what seemed like really nice quality gifts and souvenirs, it somehow felt a bit unseemly to be buy t-shirts or coffee mugs with Titanic written all over them.

I do love the grand scale of the building.

After the museum, we went back to the city centre and collected some of our group before the long drive back to Dublin. It was a very long day – we were out for about 12 hours, but it was very informative and Quiggs was fantastic throughout.

Beyond the Pale… Dublin

For like the first time in forever, I came to the UK this trip with no set plans for any down time. Usually, I have stuff booked, know where I’m going and what I want to see. I had vague ideas that if the weather was good, we might venture to Iceland or the Faroe Islands to go aurora hunting, but the weather was absolutely shite and unpredictable, and both those trips were going to be costly if we couldn’t actually get any viability, so we went hunting for a side trip that was going to be affordable and wouldn’t matter if the weather remained shit. After a bit of discussion, we decided, a long weekend in Dublin could be just the ticket.

We didn’t book an early morning departure – but I forgot how dark it is here until like 9am. Milton Keynes at 7am in February… looks eerily like something out of a Harry Potter description.

Cold and damp as we set off. There was so much moisture in the air… the car park lights in the long stay car park had enormous halos. Was very glad for the lighting though – walking around here in the dark without any sense of direction would be rather creepy.

Today, I embarked on a first – my first ever RyanAir flight. Which might seem a bit odd for me given how far and wide I have travelled over the years, but I’m a One World Girlie, and don’t usually bother looking too far outside the network. But given this was a really short trip (it always does my head in how easily, cheaply and quickly you can get to a whole different country when you’re in Europe… I mean, this flight was shorter than Brisbane to Sydney), we figured – how bad can it be?

Some observations about Luton – I don’t know what people are complaining about. It’s smaller, well laid out and easier to navigate than Heathrow. It’s got all the same food and shopping options of other airports this size and the taxes to fly in and out of Luton are less, so what’s not to like? Maybe the public transport options are dodgy? Not sure, we didn’t look into it. But I’d happily fly in and out of Luton over Heathrow and it’s grimey London ick any day.

Ryanair was a bit of an experience… somehow managed to feel even more like a bus service than even your average American domestic airline does. Perhaps due to all the bright yellow and blue livery – very bus and road transport type colours, (airlines tend to favour soothing over dynamic colour schemes). Or perhaps it was being ushered into a waiting pen and the literal standing around waiting for the doors to open, so everyone could rush the plane to take their (assigned) seats, or the jostling for overhead space or the utter lack of service once on board, or I dunno? It just felt like a bus line. Obviously they’re a famously budget airline, but having mostly flown Qantas, Emirates, Air Swiss, Cathay Pacific, Singapore Airlines, Air Canada and even JAL over the last decade (I can’t remember the last time I was stupid enough to book a Jetstar flight), I haven’t got much to compare it with anymore. I found the air safety card on the seat backs to be somewhat amusing… practical I’m sure, but amusing.

Anyway, it wasn’t long before we landed in Dublin, went through the most cursory of immigration processes, took a shuttle to our hotel, dropped off our weekend bags and head for a pub! Because Ireland! Neither of us are Guinness or beer drinkers so I predict quite a bit of cider will be imbibed over this weekend adventure.

Like most visitors to Dublin, we chose to stay right in the Temple Bar area – because that’s where all the pubs and good vibes are to be found. We knew this could end up noise revelry and possibly disturbed sleep, but that’s okay! When in Ireland and all that. Not far from our Hotel, we found the famous Love Lane, which kinda marks the centre of the town’s creative and arts district. It’s a bit of a hub for handsome graffiti and small galleries. Very quaint.

They must paint over the tiles on the Love Wall semi-regularly, as there are markers around inviting people to leave their marks on the wall.

I did not leave my inane musings in the wall, but delighted in reading some of the more thoughtful and poetic entries left by others.

We had a bit of a moist meander around the Quays, it was here I discovered my new knee doesn’t really like the cold 🙁 It was only 4C today, and I was experience way more pain walking about than I should be… not happy Jan.

A timber riverside boardwalk … every single rivet/bolt head was covered with a bottle cap. People were sleeping on the benches here, Dublin has a right problem with rough sleeping, I can’t imagine sleeping out in this weather.

The “Meeting Place” statue was apparently designed to reflect every day life, quite unlike other statuary in the city which is designed to aggrandise important people/events. As is typical of any city, they’re commonly referred to by something less savoury than the artists and town planners initially intended and are affectionately known as the “Hags with the Bags” or the “Slags with the Bags”. Interestingly, that tidbit was left off the QR code info that could be scanned beside them. 🙂 They are located in Dublin’s busy shopping area, and have iconic Dublin shopping bags at their feet.

More ciders and some warming seafood chowder for lunch at The Lotts… best damn seafood chowder I’ve had since 2009 at a tiny little cafe I can’t remember the name of near the Moeraki Boulders in South Island of New Zealand – in truth, both memories may be impacted by extremely cold conditions and a general sense of wellbeing at finally coming in from the cold and wet. 🙂 The Lotts was a good choice – great ciders, some excellent chowder and an 80s and 90s playlist that just lifted the spirits before we were spat back out into the cold again.

The Palace Bar is a bit of an institution in Dublin, having been established a little over 200 years ago and being one of the few remaining Victorian snugs in town. It reminded me very much of the Princess Louise gin palace in Holborn.

The pressed tin ceiling, the warm timber bar and seating spaces divided into little quiet nooks … if those walls could talk, I’m sure they have tales of politics, poetry, scandal and revolution! The Palace Bar feels like quite the step back in time.

The main bar area, which I have to say isn’t much bigger than my living room (and in fact may even be smaller), had this amazing stained glass roof. It was a very pleasant looking pub, but after the vibrant upbeat atmosphere of Lotts, this place felt a bit staid and stuffy – everyone was sitting way too close to each other and having stifled conversations, I feel it needed a bit of music to liven the place up.

Temple Bar Square – which is you know, rectangular.

The famous Temple Bar… all of 2pm, and lit up like a Christmas tree.

Before too long, we were a bit tired of pub hopping and went in hunt of some dinner. The Seafood Cafe was just down the road from our hotel (The Dublin Citi Hotel), and promised fresh oysters – and who can say ‘no’ to that!? I quite liked their style on this front – they offered a bunch of different types of oysters on the one platter, and if you weren’t a big oyster fan, you’d probably say they all taste the same… but if you’re an oyster snob like me, you’ll find each of these varieties had differing amounts of saltiness, mineral ‘tang’ and varying levels of creamy texture. The Doriel Creek were my favourite – possibly because they are most like the huge Tasmanian Pacific oysters, I like to buy at home.

Next day we were off to Trinity University to hunt down the Book of Kells and see the Long Hall Library. I was here back in 1995, and remember the visit quite fondly… moving quietly through the dark rooms looking at the pages of the this Millenia old book created by monks shivering in their monastery; it’s about as romantically medieval as it gets!

Interestingly the curation of the Book of Kells exhibit started with an series of panels describing and explaining Ogham (writing system c.5thC AD) – which struck me as odd, given the Book of Kells is famous for its illuminated manuscript, and from memory doesn’t have any obvious Ogham text in it? The panels provided some context; Ogham was predominantly used to inscribe stones, much in the same way runes were used by the Norse cultures, and these stones were used as boundary and directional markers. There has been some Ogham discovered in the marginalia of the Book of Kells (which was created in the 9thC AD!), and that apparently is the connection here.

I knew we weren’t going to be able to take any photos of the actual pages of the book, so took advantage of some of the high definitely pictures throughout the display to capture some of the intricate details from the artworks.

There was an excellent display on the medieval pigments used to create the illuminations:

MEDIEVAL INKS AND PIGMENTS:
Extracted from a wide range of sources, these include powdered particles from clays and minerals; dyes extracted from lichens, barks, berries, and insects; and pigments produced through chemical reactions.
BLACK:
1: Iron gall ink: This is created by the reaction of iron salts with the gallo-tannic acid extracted from plant galls. This is the principal ink on the Book of Kells.
2: Lamp black: A fine particle carbon deposit created from burning oils, rosin, or pitch. Carbon black ink
was found in script and design on the Book of Kells.
3: Bistre: A carbon black produced from wood soot and Char-blacks were also commonly made from fruit stones and vines.
4: Acacia gum: Inks and pigments are bound to their support by sticky substances such as gums and glues. Gum Arabic is the hardened sap of the acacia tree.
WHITE:
1: Gypsum: A calcium sulphate mineral common in Ireland. This is the white on the Book of Kells.
2: Lead white: This is a basic lead carbonate, produced by exposing lead to acidic vapours, heat, moisture and fermenting matter. It is a toxic pigment with a tendency to darken.
1: Indigoindigotin dye: Extracted from the woad plant ‘Isatis tinctoria’. This is the blue on the Book of Kells. It was mixed with gypsum to create lighter tones.
2: Azurite: A hydrated copper carbonate mineral. This is common in manuscripts from the later medieval period.
3: Lazurite: This aluminosilicate sulphate comes from the mineral lapis lazuli. Exceptional quality is required for a bright blue, which makes it a costly pigment.

The illuminated alphabet:

Then, after reading all the informational plaques and panels, we are able to enter the room where the book is held… and disappointment ensues. A replica of the book is in a darkened room, opened up with two sacrificial pages from the original tome are on view. Just two pages, and neither of them containing an illumination – just two pages of text. Seriously, nothing special about these two pages at all. I understand wanting to preserve and protect the book, but charging us €25 to come in and see a whole lot of not much is a bit rude.

Thankfully the Long Room library didn’t disappoint – even with over half of the collection of books removed, it is still a stunning place to visit. I somehow managed to initially walk in and be the only person in the entire library for about 5 minutes. Five minutes which felt like an eternity as I stood there and smelled the old books and my eyes adjusted to the dim light. What an incredible building, full of so much knowledge and history. Wikipedia and Google might be able to give you answers to everything your weird and wired little brain can think of, but the feelings and sensations of being in a place like this – they can’t give you that.

The silence was incredible, you could hear a pin drop. No people nearby, no school groups or loud American tourists… it was blissful to have a special place like this to myself; even if only for a few minutes.

I found a quiet seat and just absorbed my surroundings, craning my neck to see the famous ceilings. Just… wow. Fleeting moments like this are what makes the nightmarish transits and cramped budget flights all worth it.

Oddly, there is no ‘exit through the gift shop’ happening here… and if you are interested in books on the Book of Kells or other things associated with Trinity College or Irish history, you are directed to these ‘big red boxes’ which contain the Book of Kells Experience. If you’re immediately thinking, “Spirit of London”, you’d be correct.

Inside is an audio visual tour of the book, with very little history about who, when and where it was created, but plenty of enlarged projected imagery from the book being whizzed around the room and towards you to a medjieval Irish soundtrack… and then the obligatory gift shop exit! Admittedly, it was full of what appeared to be good quality products and souvenirs to take home from your visit, but none of it was thrilling enough that I wanted it cluttering up my house indefinitely.

Directly across the road from the entrance to Trinity College was the Irish Whiskey Museum… and that sounded like a decent place to get out of the cold for a bit longer before lunchtime. 🙂

The museum is located in an old building, but a brand new complex and promised to teach us all about the history of Irish whiskey… and it did, complete with a young tour guide leading us from room to room, reciting a well-worn spiel about how the Irish were making their moonshine since way back when and how lots of it literally led to blindness and death before they figured out how to make it safely.

In the early 19thC the whiskey distilling industry was quite unregulated, and there was over 1000 distilleries manufacturing and selling whiskey of wildly varying quality to unsuspecting customers all over the country. By the 1970s, they were literally down to TWO distilleries both owned by the one company. Now there are around 40 distilleries as whiskey wanking is becoming ever more popular. The history is quite interesting if you wanna read up on it: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Irish_whiskey

Of course, there was a wee tasting at the end of the tour… and I discovered I don’t like Irish whiskey any more than I like Scotch whisky… so in the debate over whiskey vs whisky, I’m solidly still in camp, ”Gin”!

After our visit to the Irish Whiskey Museum, we decided (a fatally poor decision as it turned out) to have lunch at The Old Mill. I wasn’t practically hungry, so went for the light seafood chowder option again – worked so well yesterday to warm the cockles; while Stephola opted for a plate of coddle hoping for something reminiscent of her Scottish grandmother’s cooking.

The chowder looked innocuous enough, and was certainly tasty… but, sadly, would have my stomach churning all afternoon, and then eventually hurling my guts up about six hours later! Honestly, I couldn’t remember the last time I threw up like this… it was bad. And when I emailed The Old Mill to let them know that whatever remained of that particular dish should be disposed of – they didn’t give a fuck and didn’t bother to reply. So warning – don’t go there!

But the afternoon was spent exploring more of the town (before the projectile vomiting, of course – I didn’t know that was going to happen yet!). We went past the Temple Bar again, only to see they had added some massive shamrocks to their lighting design… St Patricks day is just a couple of weeks away, and I imagine Dublin goes off with visitors all in town to celebrate.

Back cross the Quays again, we popped into the Boar’s Head pub to avoid a group of school children that were just entering the National Leprechaun Museum… yes, that’s correct. They have a National Leprechaun Museum – which is a bit of a misnomer, as there was very little going on here to do with Leprechauns in general. It is actually a folklore and story telling museum, and we were quite interested in the old oral traditions of Ireland.

Choosing to stop for a port rather than sharing the spaces with school kids seemed a good way to preserve one’s sanity. 🙂

So the National Leprechaun Musuem is privately owned and dedicated to folklore and mythology. They focus on the oral traditions of story telling and claim to be the first (maybe the only?) leprechaun museum in the world! To visit the museum, you get guided through several rooms – and if you are lucky by a very passionate and well spoken student type – and taken on a journey telling you about the history of Irish oral traditions and you get to hear a number of mythological tales retold to you, much in the same way they were shard for hundreds of years before mass media.

Each room is themed to match the myth or story being shared – and we heard stories of leprechauns, pixies, banshees… it was delightful. If you’ve any interest in history, homeric tradition, poetry, literature, or mythology – it’s well worth a visit, and only an hour or so required.

After this it was back to the hotel to rest as my stomach was really pulling off cartwheels by this time. I think this trip to Dublin will forever be associated with food poisoning! I have NEVER been this sick… normally when we’re travelling, I will watch my travel companions drop like flies from flu and stomach bugs, but my OCD-like meticulous hand hygiene has usually held me in good stead from catching most things while away. Anyways, I was laying down and feeling increasingly BLARGH, and though maybe having a shower and taking my drugs to sleep it off was the best approach. So I go to the bathroom and get into the teeny tiny move-and-you’re-brushing-up-against-the-cold-glass shower cubicle, when he heat and steam starts to rise and I think, “I am going to actually be sick!”. I squish myself out of the shower and barely manage to push my clothes and things off the toilet to open the lid – a microsecond poorer timing and I would have chucked uncontrollably all over my clean clothes!

Linda Blair could not have been prouder! Projectile orangey chowder until my eyes watered. It was sooo gross, and three massive spews in total. I could not for the life of me remember the last time I vomited. It was so unpleasant. Le sigh… I eventually finished my shower and then went to bed hoping that tomorrow was way less interesting.

Thankfully I awoke up this morning feeling much improved. The toxins had left the building, and now I felt good as new, even hungry, as I had expelled yesterday’s lunch and been too queasy to have even a sandwich for dinner. After a bit of a slow start, we hunted down a cafe that Stephola’s stepdaughter recommended – First Chapter. It was a fun little cafe with a quirky interior design made to give the illusion of furniture and furnishings being drawn. The menu was a bit simple, but after last night’s stomach upset – simple was fine by me!

I ordered a up of tea and toastie, and somehow got a full flowery cottage garden with my brunch!

After this we Uber’d (it was pissing down rain) to the Irish National Museum to look for dark ages treasures – which I will put all in a separate post.

After museum’ing for most of the day, we were kinda tuckered out, and decided to head back to the hotel for a quiet afternoon, a dinner at the local in preparation for an early exit out of Dublin to head back to the airport and fly back to Luton.

The shuttle back to the airport the next morning was far more of an adventure than it needed to be – the location we were dropped off, wasn’t the same location that the shuttle picks you up for the return journey… no that might make too much sense. Instead we watched as a shuttle sailed past us and we then spent ten minutes marching up and down the road (which had numerous bus stops and way too much inconsistent signage), until we found the collection point 200m down the road from where you get dropped off. Much logic, Wow. Thankfully, we had allowed ourselves plenty of time to arrive at the airport. So we could board our bright yellow and blue Ryanair bus back to the UK.

All up – had a fine time, so glad to have seen the Giant’s Causeway after all these years, but I could totally have done without the food poisoning, Dublin!

Made it back and noticed that Bella didn’t seem to even know we had gone!

Cirque du Soleil – Corteo!

In 1996, I came to Europe to do some work experience in corporate studio photography. I was working with a guy named, Jay Myrdal who had a lot of big clients (Boeing, Rolls Royce, Honda, all sorts) doing large format 8” x 10” creative advertising photography. It was quite the experience, I learned a lot, but I also had a lot of free time in London that winter.

One of the things that I did was go to the Royal Albert Hall to see Allegria with BluddyMary – it was the first Cirque du Soleil show that I ever went to and I fell madly in love with the format. The acrobatics and gymnastics, the athleticism combined with the artistry, whimsical and accomplished music and fabulously creative sets, make up and costumes. Loved it.

I swear I took a very similar picture with an Allegria truck parked outside this building 30 years ago! 🙂

Ever since, whenever we are travelling, I usually check to see if there are any of their travelling shows on – either static theatre shows or travelling under the Big Top in towns we are visiting. This is how I have come to see Amaluna in New York, Kurios in Vancouver, Varekai in Beaumont Texas, La Nouba in Orlando, Totem in Sydney, and a bunch of shows in Las Vegas. So, coming to London for a few weeks, I thought I’d have a look and see if anything was on – and yes, we were in luck! Cortéo is showing at the Royal Albert Hall! Kinda cool – back to where my love affair with the Cirque all started.

So Stephola and I had been plotting to do this before the cruise to New Zealand (a trip which is suspiciously missing from here because my site has been busted and I haven’t been able to write…hopefully I will get around to fixing some backlog if it doesn’t get forgotten entirely). We paid £120 each for what I would call rather pricey but very average seats. We had a decent view, but we were up in the Rausing Circle, which is the second very back row of the highest gallery in the Royal Albert Hall… oddly enough, only about two rows back from where I remember seeing it last time! 🙂 I didn’t mind though, I am just glad to be able to go and see the Cirque, and I was happy Stephola was keen to check it out too.

Visiting the Royal Albert Hall is in itself a bit of a treat if you are not used to seeing all sorts of shows here. The building is beautiful, and lovingly preserved. The hallways, staircases and bars are just lovely.

Cortéo literally means ‘cortège’ in Italian, and the story is based around a clown named Mauro who is reflecting back on his life and circus achievements and friends from his deathbed. I know, sounds a little dark, but it works. The production moves from one energetic and creative vignette to another tied together by Mauro’s bed moving in from scene to scene. It was excellent.

There were two little people in the cast, one of whom was suspended by these enormous balloons, and floated out over the crowd. It was delightful and the engagement with the audience was really effective.

As per usual with a Cirque production, the clowns were sophisticated and hilarious – they were speaking a LOT more than you usually see in a Cirque show, and in multiple languages… you could make out a smattering of French and Italian and quite a lot of English. They were really good and always make for a lovely interlude between acts or provide an excellent distraction while other cast members are setting up for the next performance.

The ceiling of the Royal Albert Hall: it has these amazing mushroom in it, which apparently improve the acoustics. I know nothing about sound engineering, but I know they look very funky when all lit up!

Another fabulous act were the gymnasts on the giant bars – there was 8 or maybe 10 strong guys all swinging on these bars at the same time; all in perfect synchronicity with complex choreography, flipping between bars and across each other. I wonder how many times they have smooshed into another gymnast during practice!

The absolute highlight were the aerialist pair that started on blue ribbons – they were spectacular! Oh my god, just so athletic, yet graceful and artistic. I didn’t take any photos of their act as they were just enthralling and I couldn’t take my eyes off them.

All up 10 out of 10 – would go again!

Edit: So… I’m still in the UK, and exactly 9 days after seeing this, I got an email from the Cirque saying that Cortéo is coming to Australia later this year! 😀 I have a feeling I will be going again, now!