Cornwall's Photographer: George Ellis

George Ellis at work

George Ellis moved to Bodmin with his wife Jessie on Sunday 3 September 1939, a date he'd always be able to recollect. The following morning he began work at the Bodmin-based Cornish Guardian, as the paper’s staff photographer. George had trained as an engineer but hoping to turn his hobby into a livelihood, had left his job to become a press photographer.

Early in life George had many adventures; he crossed the Atlantic in a Moravian Missionary windjammer, spending six months in Labrador with the Eskimos to record their way of life. Keen on deep-sea fishing, he made several long trips with his cameras to explore the fishing-grounds of the North Sea and the Arctic. Afterwards he gave talks about his experiences, illustrated with his photographs: ‘The Western Isles’, ‘A Trip to Labrador’, ‘Meet Mrs Eskimo’.

Bodmin 1943: Bob Hope entertains the troops

With a growing family though, the expeditions came to an end. George worked for the Guardian until the summer of 1940, but wartime paper rationing led to his redundancy. He became self-employed, and began to build up his own photographic business in Bodmin.

Throughout the war, George also served with the Royal Observer Corps at the Bodmin Beacon post known as S.3. When American troops arrived, he set up a small studio so the GIs could send home photographs of themselves with their Cornish girlfriends. George was one of the few press photographers with access to military establishments, notably the naval airfield at St Merryn.

He liked to be known as George W F Ellis, and styled himself Cornwall’s leading Press Photographer. Working from his premises at 4 St Nicholas Street, he contributed to the Guardian but supplied other newspapers too, including the Western Morning News, and magazines such as Women’s Own; most of his work was in black and white. George also printed calendars bearing local scenes, and started a lucrative line in post-cards carrying his images. They sold in thousands; many survive today as collectable items.

Cornish saffron buns: a mixed reception.

Though he tended to focus on mid-Cornwall, George also travelled widely across the Duchy. His camera faithfully captured village life: Young Farmers functions, baby shows, carnival queens, musical occasions, agricultural shows, wassailers. George loved traditional occasions, and for around 30 years attended the annual Shrove Tuesday hurling at St Columb Major, as well as Padstow’s May Day festivities. He covered local sporting fixtures and enjoyed weddings; images with large groups of people usually meant good sales, as often mementos were ordered by the subjects. Some of his more unusual assignments included a rat-catching session at Liskeard, a party for centenarian Mrs Alicia Tugwell, and a giant haddock.

Charlotte Dymond memorial, 1943

But as well as parochial happenings, he photographed some big events: the manhunt following Newquay’s murder in July 1958; the Royal Cornwall Shows; the Tamar road bridge under construction. George was interested in technology, and travelled to the Lizard as the Goonhilly satellite station was being commissioned in mid-1962. St Austell’s china clay industry and the Cornish railways also attracted his lens.

George’s work was generally of fine quality but sometimes he was a little snap-happy. In his archives, some rural and shoreline scenes occur again and again; it seems he cherished certain views which he felt compelled to revisit. Numerous images, particularly the topographical, can’t be dated accurately because there are no people, cars or buildings to suggest when they were taken. A few show human failing; like everyone else, occasionally George would produce blurred, wobbly or lop-sided images, heads or feet missing. But he kept them all.

When the chance arose, George photographed royalty and the famous. Among them were King George VI and Queen Elizabeth, together with Princess Elizabeth, when they visited Bodmin during the summer of 1950; twelve years later he recorded the Queen Mother once more, at the official opening of the new Tamar Bridge. He also visited Fowey, where he snapped a resident whose lifetime of artistic work had been admired by millions: Mabel Lucie Attwell.

Winter at Jamaica Inn, 1950s

As he aged, George’s photographs concentrated more on central Cornwall, nearer his home. He officially retired in 1975 but worked until his eighties. In retirement he developed an interest in painting, and kept up his musical activities: singing, and playing the piano and organ. George died in October 1985.

Today though, thousands of his negatives are still with us, held by the Cornish Studies Library at Redruth. George’s records of his work have also survived, great hand-written ledgers organised with a generous dash of Byzantium. Frozen in time, these historic images of Cornwall exist today thanks to the constant enthusiasm of George Ellis, and his indefatigable camera.

Cornwall's Unique Stone: Serpentine

Serpentine is the beautiful stone found at the foot of the Lizard peninsula, Cornwall's most southerly point.  Though it occurs elsewhere, the Cornish variety is uniquely coloured; dark green, red or grey, run through with contrasting seams, it polishes like marble to a wonderfully deep sheen.

For centuries, serpentine-bearing blocks were used to build the Lizard’s homes and farm buildings.  Local people also carved small decorative objects but it was a Mr Drew who first saw business possibilities for ornamental items, when he arrived in 1828 to repair the peninsula’s lighthouse.  The rock’s glorious tones must have caught his eye; he developed a polishing technique to buff it to a fine lustre, and opened a concern in his home town of Penzance which cut and carved serpentine items commercially.

A second factory soon opened nearby, at Wherrytown, also in Penzance; at first, orders were taken for items such as pedestals, vases, flower stands and mantelpieces.  But a boost came in 1846, when Queen Victoria and Prince Albert called at the town aboard the royal yacht.  Ashore, they were shown specimens of polished serpentine.

Enchanted by the colours, the royal holidaymakers made an unscheduled visit to see the rock in its natural surroundings.  They ordered many serpentine items for their Osborne House residence, including several mantelpieces and twelve polished vase bases.  News of the stone travelled among the great-and-good of the land; with royal approval, serpentine grew as a fashionable material.

During 1851 the Great Exhibition was held in Hyde Park, an enormous show of culture and industry; from May to October, six million people visited.  Serpentine was exhibited there, bringing the unfamiliar rock before a huge audience.  Business soared; to represent the stone in the capital, the London and Penzance Serpentine Company was formed.

Orders arrived for ever-larger pieces: towering obelisks, columns, ecclesiastical pieces, fireplaces.  Cornish serpentine found its way to Chatsworth House, Hampton Court and Westminster Abbey.  Across Britain, the stone decorated the exteriors of municipal buildings and prominent shops.  Locally, serpentine was used to create ornamental items within the Lizard’s churches, including lecterns and pulpits at Grade and St Wynwallow.

In 1853 the Lizard Serpentine Company was founded, on the peninsula close to the stone, in tiny Poltesco valley; it too opened a London office.  Whereas Wherrytown used a steam engine to power its processing machinery, at first Poltesco relied on a waterwheel driven by the stream which ran through the valley; later, it acquired an engine of its own.

The two factories were great rivals, but there seemed enough work to go round.  Quarrying increased, all within a few miles of Lizard Village.  The raw serpentine was hewn in ever larger slabs; blasting damaged the material, so instead jacks, wedges and cranes were used.

But gradually a problem emerged with some of the veneers adorning building exteriors.  Serpentine wasn’t sufficiently resilient in the face of severe cold or frost, and away from the Lizard’s gentle climate the thin sheets began to flake and crack.  Serpentine’s critics, not least those from the rival marble trade, lost no time in hand-wringing.

Wherrytown put up the shutters but its rival continued, buoyed temporarily by the closure; during 1871 a change of ownership created the Poltesco Serpentine Marble Company.  Finally though, in 1893, the Lizard enterprise closed down too.  Processing and manufacturing equipment was sold off, the workforce left and the valley fell silent.

That might have been the end of the story, but as serpentine’s large-scale uses fell into decline, a new market emerged for items which could be made by small workshops: the tourist trade.  By the 1880s, amongst its myriad routes the Great Western Railway had opened a branch line to Helston, the Lizard’s northernmost point.  Later an omnibus connection appeared between Helston and Lizard Village.

Holidaymakers eagerly bought serpentine keepsakes: ash-trays, paperweights, tobacco jars.  Tourism developed into a mainstay of Cornwall’s economy, and demand for souvenirs grew.  The serpentine workers improved their artistry, creating bowls, miniatures and vases as well as elegant lighthouses, symbolic reminders of the seas around the Duchy’s long coastline.

Today a handful of craftsmen still work at Lizard Village and local showrooms sell serpentine pieces.  Poltesco valley shows evidence of its former use; the three-storey warehouse built in 1866 remains, as well as workshop footings and the waterwheel pit, during springtime surrounded with vivid wild flowers.

The best place on the Lizard to see serpentine in its raw state is Kynance Cove, where the pounding sea’s natural polish has fashioned and smoothed the rocks, leaving them gleaming as it recedes.  Against the soft white sand, Cornish serpentine stands out rich and unique.

Royal Cornwall Museum's Mystery Mine Paintings

Truro’s Royal Cornwall Museum has been donated a historic oil painting of a 19th-century Cornish mining scene. The painting shows a mine count-house, or office, where an auction of copper ore is taking place. A mixed group of buyers, miners and bal-maidens is depicted, along with the mine managers.

The earlier mystery painting.

The museum received the painting from a Cornish family with long-standing mining connections, but little is known of its origin. It probably dates from the early to mid 1900s, and is initialled ‘WP’. The painting bears a striking resemblance to another work also in the care of the museum, again anonymous, which is known simply as ‘A Cornish Mining Scene’.

The Cornish Mining World Heritage Site, which promotes Cornwall’s mining legacy, has studied both paintings and found similarities. In each, bal-maidens attend to their daily work, many wearing the distinctive white Cornish ‘gook’, a form of protective headgear. As the sale of ore takes place, buyers cluster around the managers. Both paintings show piles or doles of copper, ready for selling, while background buildings and scenery are also alike.

The Heritage Site says the paintings reproduce many activities of a Cornish tin mine of the period; some are particularly accurate. The earlier painting shows a raised wooden trough carrying water from the mine engine house and shaft; such channels often leaked, and the painter includes this detail. Some of the bal-maidens are dressing the copper ore, while others bring the ore to the balance-scales for weighing, before it's auctioned.

Who's this by?

But licence has also been used. In the later painting the maidens are dressing the ore close to the count house, unlikely in real life; this job was usually done at the mine workings, rather than near the offices.  In the more recent painting, a thatched cottage is in close proximity to a smoking mine chimney.

Lucinda Middleton is the RCM’s Curator of Arts. Lucinda explained: “The similarities in the subjects, as well as the broadly comparable colour pallets and style of brush strokes, indicates the paintings are probably by the same artist.” However, she feels the two were probably painted some years apart. The recently-donated work shows more attention to detail, implying a growing experience and maturity of observing and painting.

Both the museum and the Heritage Site are keen to learn more about the paintings.  If you can help with information, particularly the locations portrayed, or details of the artist, they'd be pleased to hear from you at www.royalcornwallmuseum.org.uk

John Skewes: Cornwall's Frog Enthusiast!

John (left) with a friend, at the main frog tank.

Cornishman John Skewes lived at the Countryman pub, near Redruth. Born in 1910, he worked as a bus-driver before starting on his own as a haulier. But during his spare time John nurtured a consuming hobby, a passion which led to a reputation for eccentricity, as well as scrapes with the law.

Always very interested in frogs, John began collecting them from the ponds and ditches around his home. His forays gathered the amphibians for use by hospitals and universities in medical research. Soon, thousands lived in a big tank at the yard where he kept his lorries.

John’s home became known as The Froggeries, a notice by his gate advertising ‘England’s Largest Frog Dealer’. Frog requirements grew ever greater; John advertised for more, at 2s 6d (12½p) a dozen. Local children caught them to supplement their pocket-money, but John was picky and would accept only prime specimens.

During 1949 John agreed to sell a motorbike to his neighbour, Albert Shortman. The price agreed between the two men was 2,500 frogs, in John’s mind equivalent to £25.  The motorbike changed hands; however, time passed and John claimed Albert only ever made a down-payment of 88 frogs; finally the case went to court at Redruth.

At the hearing there was much deliberation over the habits of frogs, and methods of capturing them. John’s (estranged) wife testified that Albert had actually paid 1,000 frogs, leaving an outstanding balance of only 1,500. Perplexed Judge Scobell Armstrong, presiding, felt he was dealing with “a little community of people who appeared to think of currency in terms only of frogs.”

Eventually, the hearing found for John. Albert was ordered pay the remaining amphibians. John’s council, Mr Caffin, when awarded costs, was asked by the exasperated judge whether he’d prefer money or frogs. 

John developed other interests; snails, dogs and pigeons all fascinated him. But always, his frogs came first. Despite many accidents while catching frogs – he often tumbled in streams and twice fell into the same quarry – John lived to a ripe old age. 

Beast of Bodmin: Truth Or Fiction?

Cornwall’s Bodmin Moor breathes myth, its brooding isolation silent and ominous. Remote hamlets and farmsteads huddle in shallow valleys, along narrow, twisting roads. And across the granite uplands, peat mires and windswept treeless heath a shadowy creature prowls: the Beast of Bodmin.

Since the early 1980s more than 60 sightings of the Beast have been reported. Up to five feet long with large yellow-white eyes, the animal apparently resembles a puma or a panther; it appears mostly at dusk. So far its attacks have been confined to livestock, but some local people believe the big cat searches for human prey.

At first glance it’s hard to see how the Beast could have originated. But before the mid 1970s, having a leopard or a panther as a pet wasn’t unknown among the rich and avant-garde. That changed with the 1976 Dangerous Wild Animals Act, which restricted keeping such exotic creatures.

But between then and the introduction of the 1981 Wildlife and Countryside Act, it was perfectly legal to release your meat-loving companion into the wild; some believe discarded pets were dumped in remote areas. Other theories include circus escapees and, rather more left-field, survivors from Ice Age big cats.

In the early 1990s Bodmin Moor’s farmers experienced a spate of attacks on their animals. Speculation grew that perhaps the Beast wasn’t just a fancy of eccentrics; occasionally too, big cats were found in other areas. 

During 1980 at Cannich in Inverness-shire, a farmer captured a puma; christened Felicity, she was kept at Kincraig Wildlife Park near Kingussie. In 1991 near Norwich, a gamekeeper shot dead a Eurasian Lynx. Persistent rumours of Bodmin’s wild cat finally led to an investigation by the Ministry of Agriculture, Fisheries and Food, their concern the safety of livestock.

Under intense media interest, the Ministry’s enquiries began in January 1995 and lasted until July. But despite their efforts, the search was unsuccessful. Video footage and photographs submitted as evidence turned out to show domestic cats. Night images sometimes revealed pupils narrowed by lamplight to vertical slits; but in none of the larger cats such as leopards, jaguars and pumas do the pupils contract in that manner.

The Ministry’s subsequent report found “no verifiable evidence” of a big cat on Bodmin Moor, and suggested the mangled sheep could have been killed by animals native to Britain. Tantalisingly though, the report also concluded "the investigation could not prove that a 'big cat' is not present."

Just two weeks following the report, a boy walking on the moor at Golitha Falls noticed a skull in the water. Undeniably cat-like, the skull was missing its lower jaw but among the upper teeth were two large fangs. 

The story made the national press and the find was rushed to the Natural History Museum’s Department of Zoology. Experts agreed that from the number, position and types of teeth the skull was that of a young male leopard. Inside though, they found an egg case belonging to a type of cockroach not native to Britain. They also noticed the back of the skull had been cut cleanly off, a sure sign it had once been mounted on a rug.

The 'Piltdown Pussy' hoax was a serious setback to the Beast’s credibility, but nonetheless sightings and indications continued. During October 1997, Cornwall’s Newquay Zoo officials claimed paw prints left in mud near Bodmin Moor were those of a puma. Some London Zoo staff also believed there was little doubt the Beast existed. In August 1998 an amateur video clip taken on the moor was released, which appeared to show two cat-like creatures of around three feet long.

By then, Paul Tyler, a staunch believer in the Beast and at the time Liberal Democrat MP for Cornwall North, had submitted to the Government his own file of evidence. Photographs, admittedly poor, were included of a black cat-like animal seen at Cardinham and another apparently sunbathing near St Austell. Tyler urged Elliot Morley, then Fisheries and Countryside Minister, to consider the file but Morley’s view was: “I am afraid that, until we obtain stronger evidence … big cats are still in the category of mythical creatures.”

During November 1999 a hi-tech attempt to find the Beast was made by volunteers from the RAF. The team of men and women spent the night camped on the moor, using up-to-the-minute night-vision equipment, thermal imaging, seismic intruder devices – and chicken offal. But perhaps the area’s notoriously changeable weather came to the big cat's aid. Fog developed and though the detection gear was triggered several times, confirming its cause proved impossible. Once again, the canny Beast had evaded its pursuers.

Finally in March 2010, after an investigation across Britain, the Government’s environmental watchdog Natural England (whose predecessors include parts of MAFF) declared: "It is very unlikely there are any big cats at large." During the study, supposed sightings were gathered from people nationwide, but Natural England found not a whisker of conclusive evidence. Equally though, no reasons or motives were put forward to explain why so many claimed to have seen the animals.

Despite the numerous sightings of Bodmin’s prowler, photographs have yet to appear which show the Beast at all clearly. The few images capturing the creature are as poor as those peddled by UFO hoaxers and their Chevrolet hub-caps. And why is the animal often said to be black?  Most cats big or otherwise are marked with variations of stripe or spot; is it that black has been chosen by fakers as a suitably chilling, evil colour?

Rural legend, hoax, or fact? The big guns of Government departments can find no convincing confirmation of the Beast’s existence. But regardless of officialdom's views, on Bodmin Moor sightings and livestock attacks continue. Cornish people who’ve made careful, painstaking study of the evidence over many years insist big cats, and the truth, are out there.   

Wimbledon's First Hero: Dustin Brown!

At Wimbledon today we have our first real hero of this year’s championship: 28-year-old Dustin Brown, dreadlocked, chilled, with his own wonderful take on the game.  

Coaching manuals are in the bin; Dustin plays naughty tennis. This afternoon he beat former champion Lleyton Hewitt in four sets; all through, he looked as relaxed and sunny as if he was having fun in the local park.

Born in Germany to father Leroy and mother Inge, in 1996 Dustin moved to Jamaica. His game’s based around serve and volley, sort of, but that’s not the full story. Today he pulled off a dazzling, mad variety of shots which simply don’t exist in any textbook. 

Ladling the ball over the net, delicate flips at crazy angles, a freakish compendium never seen before. Hewitt didn’t know what to do with him and after the shot that won the game, Dustin Brown’s grin would have powered the National Grid. 

Now, he can afford a new campervan to replace the old bus bought with mum and dad's help; usually he slogs around Europe scrapping at the less august levels of tennis. But for now Dustin, we’ll look forward to seeing you in the next round at SW19. 

 

GCHQ Bude: We Are Listening

Set atop barren cliffs, during calm weather the great white domes and dishes of GCHQ Bude sit in silence broken only by seabirds. But high perimeter fences isolate the satellite ground station from curious coastal walkers; scouring nearby footpaths, security cameras monitor and record. For while the site’s visible from miles away, it’s also Cornwall’s most secret place.

Since 1919 Britain’s had a code-breaking agency, to analyse information gathered from foreign powers. That year the Government Code and Cypher School was founded, based in central London and run by the Foreign Office. The term Government Communications Headquarters first appeared as a cover name for a new centre created in 1939, away from the capital at Bletchley Park in Buckinghamshire.

Each day during the Second World War Bletchley’s code-breakers were fed with encrypted enemy radio transmissions, intercepted by a network of stations across Britain. When the team moved to Cheltenham in Gloucestershire during the early 1950s the GCHQ title was formally adopted.

Today Bletchley Park’s wartime successes are celebrated, especially the astonishing mathematical feats led by brilliant Alan Turing in decrypting the German Enigma cipher machines. By contrast, GCHQ’s post-war activities have always remained elusive to the public eye. Secrecy is vital in its work at the heart of Britain's international confrontations, her struggle against terrorism and the prevention of serious crime.

One of the country’s three security services alongside MI5 and MI6, GCHQ deals with signals intelligence, known as SIGINT: the eavesdropping, interception and analysis of radio and electronic signals to draw together information. Once studied and filtered, data of possible importance is passed to the Government’s military, diplomatic and law enforcement departments, and often to Britain’s allies. The service also uses its Information Assurance processes to protect Government communication and data systems from cyber-attack.

In 1967, to increase its international listening capacity GCHQ began work on a new satellite ground station, situated in north Cornwall. That year the Ministry of Public Buildings and Works was allotted land on which to build, a flat, remote clifftop area at Lower Sharpnose Point, around 5 miles north of Bude.

Throughout the war against Nazi Germany, the site had hosted an RAF station used for anti-aircraft practice. Named Cleave after a local farm, the trainee gunners fired out to sea at target-tug aircraft and radio-controlled aerial drones. But though the base closed in 1945, the vacated land remained in government ownership.

Early into the project, GCHQ engineers visited the civilian satellite communications terminal located around 80 miles south-west of Bude at Goonhilly, on the Lizard. There they examined Goonhilly’s methods of bulk information handling, particularly its telephone traffic. Meanwhile in 1969 construction of the Bude station began, remaining wartime buildings mostly swept away. The location was ideal; clear air free of electrical interference, and solid bedrock to support huge dish antennas. Its remoteness too was attractive, inaccessible and difficult to find among obscure back roads.

Transporting materials and large pieces of equipment through the winding lanes was a logistical horror, but by 1974 CSO (Composite Signals Organisation) Morwenstow was operational. The site was equipped with the most sophisticated receiver technology available, including two truly enormous dishes weighing hundreds of tons, to capture signals broadcast from across much of the world.

Between Morwenstow and a base run by its American counterpart, the National Security Agency, by the 1980s global interception was achievable of transmissions across the INMARSAT land, sea and air mobile satellite communications system. But as the various satellite networks grew and their broadcast rates soared, so the listeners’ equipment and capacity had repeatedly to be upgraded. To preserve a truly global intercept capability, international co-operation became essential; more bases were built around the world by the allied powers. At Morwenstow a third giant dish appeared, and during July 2001 the site became known as GCHQ Bude.

For some time, it’s thought, Bude’s activities were assisted by nearby Goonhilly. Perhaps it was no coincidence that the eavesdroppers’ base had been built close by; countless signals from satellites received by the civilian terminal were duly captured by GCHQ. But by the time Goonhilly ceased most of its operations in 2008, Bude had long established a stand-alone capability; the various antennas, around 20 altogether, could track most signals passing through western communications satellites.

Allegedly the station can cover all the main electromagnetic frequency bands: L-band, C-band, Ku-band, X-band, Ka-band and V-band. This would allow interception across a huge spectrum, from computer data to TV signals live and recorded, fax and telex, internet, telephone landlines and cellphones.

Commentators believe Bude’s antennas are often angled toward the INTELSAT satellites, as well as those of its former Eastern Bloc INTERSPUTNIK equivalent, and the INMARSAT system. The satellites are positioned over mainland Europe as far as the Urals, the Atlantic and Indian Oceans, Africa, and the Middle East. Between them, they deliver voice and data communications for the world’s leading media and telecoms companies, multinational corporations, internet service providers and government agencies.

Bude also contributes to the mysterious commercial and private communications intercept system named Echelon, established world-wide between GCHQ and the National Security Agency. Echelon’s suspected existence first emerged in a 1997 European Parliament report and though its presence is no longer in doubt, for some time neither Britain nor the United States went out of their way to add any details. With their overseas partners, each day GCHQ’s listeners screen millions of captured messages for key words, using voice profile libraries and dictionary computers. Most are discarded, but those using suspicious words or the names of prominent people attract analysis.

During the 1990s some EU states expressed concerns over Echelon’s more commercially-sensitive intercepts and the fear that with others, Bude might be involved in industrial espionage. In July 2001 a second European Parliament report appeared, intended to provide reassurance by giving a degree of information about Echelon.

Without revealing activities in any detail, impossible given the network’s covert role, the report emphasised its security and intelligence purposes; misuse of commercial information was denied. Also touched on was Echelon’s limited technical suitability for industrial espionage. By that time, most EU member states had established parliamentary committees to scrutinise their intelligence services. In Britain the job fell to the Intelligence and Security Committee, which monitors GCHQ’s activities as well as those of MI5 and MI6.

Recently though it’s been suggested GCHQ has circumvented the law in other ways, intercepting personal data on British citizens through the US Prism spy programme. Prism is said to give systems access to nine of the world's top internet companies including Microsoft, Skype, Google and Facebook. The British government has faced pressure to answer allegations that using Prism has allowed GCHQ to evade the UK legal process for obtaining personal material such as emails, photographs and videos. The government denies CGHQ has acted illegally.

Meanwhile, beyond Bude's security fencing there’s still some evidence of the RAF's wartime presence: at the cliff edge, concrete plinths that once mounted artillery and the target-aircraft catapult; the old mobile radar ramp; pillboxes dotted around. Passing cliff-path walkers are able to inspect the relics, but today’s base wouldn’t take at all kindly to close examination. The activities of GCHQ Bude remain as opaque as the sudden sea mists which roll in along the Cornish coast, but one thing’s for sure: they’ve got your number. 

Redruth's Transport Heritage: Murdoch Day Celebrates!

The rugged Cornish town of Redruth has strong links with transport history, through engineer William Murdoch and his extraordinary horseless carriage. 

A Scot born in 1754, William was employed by the steam-engine manufacturer Boulton and Watt; during 1779 he travelled to Redruth to work for them. The engines were used to pump water from the area’s mines. In his spare time, William experimented with various inventions and ideas of his own; in 1784 he designed a revolutionary road carriage moved not by the usual horse power of the day, but steam.

William’s vehicle was a three-wheeler, its engine and boiler set over the two rear wheels and the smaller front wheel steered using a long wooden tiller. He built his carriage in model form, running it around the floor of his sitting-room. William carried on with his transport experiments until he married and had twins, when we may suppose his free time became less. But he continued to investigate technology, developing a working gas-light system; decades later, most towns were lit by gas.

These days William’s old Redruth house has been restored and is used by various local groups. Today too you can see the glorious Murdoch Flyer, a full-size working steam carriage based on William’s old model. Created by members of Redruth’s Murdoch Flyer Project, work on the vehicle began in 2003; a first public showing followed three years later.

In steam the Flyer’s truly impressive, the orange glow from its fire-box surmounted by hissing, clanking machinery, an astonishing mix of metal and wood combining with the warm odours of burning coal, oil and clouds of damp vapour. If you miss the working engine’s appearances there’s a full-size static model to admire on the town’s Tolgus roundabout.

Each year William Murdoch’s association and work is commemorated. On Murdoch Day, Redruth’s streets are packed with entertainment and things to do, while the Murdoch Flyer has appeared several times.

This year’s celebration falls on Saturday 15th June. Events will include the children's dance and art procession, all-day live music and entertainment, more than 50 street stalls, an old-time fair and loads of other activities. Locally-themed exhibitions will be held at William’s house,

Nick Thomas is Day Manager for Redruth Community Radio, the not-for-profit online station run by local people for the town and its surrounding villages, which has recently secured a 5-year FM licence. “Murdoch Day works because it’s tried and tested, and has a broad appeal reaching out to all ages. We have market stalls going right through the centre of town and masses of people turn up, visitors as well as locals. The children’s procession is a fantastic show; seeing the kids enjoying themselves is a pleasure for everyone.”

As Nick explains, it’s also a matter of civic pride. “The day’s a celebration of all that’s best about Redruth; our heritage and tradition, as well as people working together to ensure a great time. Whether it’s enjoying the music, browsing our stalls or visiting the exhibitions, Murdoch Day’s become a Redruth institution and everyone looks forward to it.”

Redruth’s big day kicks off at 10.00am, Saturday 15th June. Everything’s free; get along!

To check out Redruth Community Radio, including information on Murdoch Day, go to www.redruthradio.co.uk

Crystal Palace Promoted To The Premier League!

Kevin Phillips' £120-million spot-kick: will Ian Holloway buy him a pint?

Congratulations to Crystal Palace Football Club, promoted today from the Championship to the Premier League. It’s a move reputedly worth a staggering £120 million for the club. I was so pleased; I have happy memories of watching them as a boy, with my Uncle Tom. Old friend Mike Moore, also a CPFC supporter, will be pleased too.

Masterminded by manager Ian Holloway, Palace beat Watford in the Championship play-off final at Wembley, winning 1-0 thanks to a penalty from veteran forward Kevin Phillips. Three times previously Phillips has appeared in play-off finals, but never on the winning side. 

Of his spot-kick, the 39-year-old said: "I had in my mind where I wanted to take it, I was happy to take it. I picked my spot and stuck to it. I don't know if that's going to be my last match, but if it is, what a way to sign off." 

In the Premiership, Palace will be without their young striker Wilfried Zaha, who’s off to Manchester United. Phillips said of Zaha: "This man leaves now with our very best wishes. He's been great for us this season and he really wanted to leave having sent Crystal Palace up to the Premier League.” 

As Palace’s players climbed the Wembley steps to collect their trophy, Irish centre-half Deamien Delaney sat in tears, overcome with emotion. Without a club at the start of the season, and with serious medical problems behind him, he’s now a Premier League player.  Likewise Julián Speroni, the Eagles’ loyal goalkeeper and three times their Player of the Season, will be back in the top tier. 

Ian Holloway summed up: "I've been very fortunate to have worked with some great players and I'm very grateful to this bunch. We're in the Premier League now, and God help us.” 

That’s the spirit Ian!

Charles Causley: My Mother Saw A Dancing Bear

Charles Causley was a poet of international stature, born and bred in Cornwall where he lived most of his life. Today in Cornwall’s old capital Launceston, the Charles Causley Festival takes place annually; this year it’s over the weekend of 7th – 9th June. 

I’m not up on poetry, but I do like Charles. My favourite Causley poem is 'My Mother Saw A Dancing Bear'.

My mother saw a dancing bear
By the schoolyard, a day in June.
The keeper stood with chain and bar
And whistle-pipe, and played a tune.

And Bruin lifted up its head
And lifted up its dusty feet,
And all the children laughed to see
It caper in the summer heat.

They watched as for the Queen it died,
They watched it march, they watched it halt.
They heard the keeper as he cried,
"Now, Roly-Poly!" "Somersault!"

And then my mother said, there came
The keeper with a begging cup,
The bear with burning coat of fur
Shaming the laughter to a stop.

They paid a penny for the dance
But what they saw was not the show;
Only in Bruin's aching eyes
Far-distant forests, and the snow.

 For information on the Charles Causley Festival, visit http://charlescausleyfestival.co.uk/