Now The Bird Has Flown

This November marks fifty years since the tragic death of the English singer-songwriter Nick Drake. He was just 26 years old. His wistful, melancholic songs continue to resonate with new audiences, despite the fact that he was relatively unknown during his lifetime. He has a timeless appeal because his songs have a profundity that transcend time and place.

He was born in Burma in 1948. His father was an engineer who was stationed in Rangoon. His mother, Molly Drake was an accomplished poet and musician herself, and the daughter of a high ranking official in the Indian Civil Service. They moved back to England in 1951, and settled in Tanworth-in-Arden.

Molly recognised a nascent poetic and musical talent in her son and encouraged him to take piano lessons. Soon he was composing his own songs, and recorded them on a reel-to-reel tape recorder. In 1957, he was sent to boarding school. He attended Eagle House School in Berkshire, then five years later he went to Marlborough College.

He learned to play the clarinet and saxophone and formed his first band with four of his school friends. They were called “The Perfumed Gardeners” and their material was a mixture of jazz and rock cover versions. Drake was so enamoured of his burgeoning music career that he neglected his academic studies.

He failed his exams, but he was not daunted about his future. He decided to buy a second hand acoustic guitar and learn how to play it, hoping that he could imitate his musical heroes. He also improvised new techniques to attempt to create his own sound. Nevertheless he realised that he could neglect his education and enrolled at a crammer college in Five Ways in Birmingham, which led to a scholarship at Fitzwilliam College in Cambridge.

Drake took a “gap year” in France, taking classes at the University of Aix-Marseille and practising his guitar. He busked on the streets, and in a spirit of youthful naivety began experimenting with drugs. He returned to England in October 1967 to start his degree in English at Cambridge. During his first year he experienced the early signs of a mental illness that dogged him throughout his tragically short life, but rather fortuitously he befriended Robert Kirby. Kirby was a music student who helped him develop his musical style.

In 1968 Drake performed in coffee houses and clubs in London. His style was unique, combining gentle English folk melodies with the elegiac lyricism reminiscent of John Keats. His performances attracted the attention of the American music producer Joe Boyd. Boyd offered him a management, publishing and production contract. Drake signed the contract, and with the help of Robert Kirby’s musical arrangements recorded three studio albums.

In 1971, Drake’s mental health deteriorated. He was referred to a psychiatrist who prescribed amitriptyline, an antidepressant. He was also self-medicating with cannabis. He returned to his parents house in Tanworth, surviving on a £20 a week retainer from Island records. In 1972 he had a psychotic episode and was hospitalised for five weeks, by 1974 his weekly retainer from Island had ceased. Drake quickly became a recluse, and he chose to isolate himself in his childhood bedroom writing poems and songs.

Drake’s parents accepted his irregular lifestyle, which included staying up late to write and sleeping in until late in the morning. On the 25th November he took an overdose of amitriptyline and died. His parents initially believed that he was still sleeping. Drake had reportedly suffered chronic insomnia and it was unclear at that time whether the overdose was accidental or intentional. However at the inquest the coroner examined the evidence and circumstances and concluded that the cause of death was suicide.

Nick Drake lived a solitary life, and his severe mental health problems made him an outsider. However it must be acknowledged that there are bright, stellar talents in literature and music who are also burdened by similar problems. Drake was not alone, he was not the only one to suffer in this way. His songs of pathos have never lost their appeal over the decades, and it is his legacy that should be remembered rather than the sad circumstances of his death.

Magic and Majesty

On the 14th November, His Majesty the King will celebrate his 76th birthday. When he ascended to the throne, he became the oldest Monarch to be crowned in our history. However it also must be acknowledged that he is in fragile health, as he is currently undergoing cancer treatment. As mere subjects, we revere him and pay homage to him. His position is imbued with a semi-mythic aura, but his personal health admission is a poignant reminder that in spite of his high status, he is still human.

In less enlightened times, the Monarch was literally believed to possess an almost superhuman power. This belief soon turned into a dogma, and the divine right of Kings to rule over the people led to the tyranny of the Tudors. This outrageous abuse of power without any social responsibility was exemplified by the behaviour of King Henry VIII.

His entitlement was legendary, and there are numerous examples of it in historical accounts. In 1541, Henry became gravely ill from an infected leg ulcer. At that time he was deeply unpopular with his subjects, but this failed to temper his attitudes. He was so conceited and arrogant that he never expressed any feelings of guilt or remorse. Normally, a brush with death would allow a degree of reflection and an attempt to atone for ill deeds, but in Henry’s case he doubled down. His attitude towards his subjects was so contemptuous it was almost murderous. Without any hint of apology, he vowed revenge.

He proclaimed that if, and when he recovered he would “make them so poor that they would not have the boldness nor the power to oppose”. This is a stark contrast to the current King, who was not afraid to admit to his vulnerability, and consequently his people have felt a great warmth and empathy towards him.

Our modern age is vastly different from the hardships that we experienced in Tudor times. We feel a stronger and deeper connection to the present King as we have witnessed him endure numerous family tragedies, in the full glare of publicity. The press have shown no subtlety or tact and the treatment they have received has often appeared humiliating and degrading.

This situation is a direct consequence of the almost Faustian pact that the Royal Family made with the press, to ensure their survival. Regrettably, this has meant that very little about their lives has remained private, and everything that they do is subject to public scrutiny. It must be said that much of the press coverage, especially recently, has been made in bad faith. The motivation of the press has never been to inform the public, the reasons are deeply cynical and there is a noticeably distinct streak of envy emanating from every report.

The general tone of the journalists is actually rather undignified, and spiteful. It seems that in the modern world, belonging to the Royal Family does not automatically garner the same respect that it once had. Consequently there are perennial attempts to knock them off their pedestals.

In spite of the efforts to undermine the institution, the Monarchy represents a chain of continuity that remains unbroken. This country has experienced dramatic changes over the centuries, but this is the one remaining link to our ancient past, culture and traditions. The Monarchy has been forced to adapt and evolve to retain its relevance, function and purpose. However the Monarch’s role as the spiritual representative of our nation remains the same.

The King, as a hereditary ruler, has a greater insight into the importance of maintaining the culture and traditions of our nation. He literally feels the weight and burden of his inheritance when he wears the Crown. Honouring the profoundly spiritual nature of the Coronation was no exception. While preparing for the ceremony he was acutely aware that religion in this country has waned. He was forced to reconcile himself with the knowledge that there are fewer communicants in the Anglican Church. Nonetheless that still does not mean that the people of this nation lack a spiritual connection, especially to the elemental aspects of this country like nature and landscape.

The emotional connection to the land and nature inspired the invitations that were sent out to the guests. The decorations on the paper invitations were symbolic and imbued with significance and meaning. It was especially pertinent that illustrations of laurel wreaths were chosen. This evoked a deeply atavistic feeling, and revitalised magical, folk memories of the “old religion” and the “Green Man”.

This country is unique in terms of its history. The religious and political settlement that occurred in the wake of the Glorious Revolution has shaped our culture in subtle ways. In addition, the Established Church has adopted an ambiguous doctrine which has allowed and tolerated alternative concepts, like nature worship. These ancient pre-Christian beliefs that were once censured by pious rulers have been subsumed into the mainstream.

The King himself understands the importance of nature, and some have even suggested that he is a firm believer in the divinity of nature. He is certainly a sceptic of traditional science and medicine. His reliance on alternative medicine and homoeopathy is not new by Royal standards. It is a very ancient tradition that goes back thousands of years. The Kings of the ancient Britons depended upon the wisdom and soothsayer powers of the Druids for their health and longevity.

It is a strange paradox, that even though this is the 21st century we still feel nostalgia for concepts that perhaps seem anachronistic and almost irrational to outsiders. The transcendent, magic quality of the Monarch is the most glaring example. Dull cynics scoff, and state that the King is “just a man”, but this misses the point entirely. He is a core part of our identity, and the only figure that coalesces us together as a nation.

Hope and Glory

On the 11th November the people of the United Kingdom commemorate Remembrance Day. It is a profoundly solemn and dignified occasion and as it is politically neutral it is perhaps the only time when the representatives of all the political parties in this country can find common ground.

The original ceremony was designed to honour the sacrifices of those who fought in the First World War. The 11th of November was chosen as it was the date when the armistice was signed between the UK, her allies and Germany, when it was agreed that all hostilities must cease. We now use the occasion to remember the sacrifices of everyone who has served in wars and conflicts, but we must never forget the brave young men of the First World War who played an important role in our history. I am old enough to remember the services at the Cenotaph when the last veterans of the “Great War”, as it was once known, were in attendance.

It was moving to witness these elderly men, some in wheelchairs, paying respects to their military comrades who never returned. It was hard not to feel moved, and also to feel a modicum of pride that these tremendously resilient and stoic men, though physically weakened by old age, could still make the effort to attend.

It was a testament to their courage and sense of duty. However it was inevitable that every year their number dwindled. The last survivor, Harry Patch, died in 2009, at the age of 111. The historical legacy of these soldiers must never be forgotten, even after their individual names and lives are now long gone and buried.

It is a tragedy that we barely even consider the First World War, and very few people realise that it had a profound effect on our destiny. It ultimately shaped and altered our modern world. However the Second World War overshadowed the war that preceded it, and a crude mythopoeia has substituted actual historical fact. Shallow and ignorant teachers of history in our schools present a wholly false version of both world wars, purely as a vehicle to promote their contemptuous anti-British ideology.

Generations of schoolchildren, myself included, have been fed left-wing propaganda instead of a clear eyed, objective and a scholarly presentation of history. It is shocking to reflect upon the lack of scholarly information disseminated on GCSE and A Level syllabuses.

The information is readily available, but it is never taught. There are no excuses, it is sad that teachers are too lazy to present the real history, and instead decide that playing old episodes of “Blackadder” will suffice. It is astonishing, as even my A Level history teacher used this method. The writer of this historical comedy, Ben Elton is a left-wing comedian, he is not a historian.

This trivialised version of history is epitomised by the sneering, vacuous and trite phrase “lions led by donkeys”. It is repeated so often that it is now regarded as an accurate depiction of war strategy. However it is not just a well worn cliche, it is also a grotesque oversimplification. It is only quoted to deride the entire war, and to contrast its apparent futility to the supposedly moral justification behind the Second World War.

This purely ideological depiction of history is ahistorical, It puts a decisively anti-imperialist stance on a period of history when the world was dominated by powerful Empires. It is rather obtuse, then to criticise the policy of imperialism. It is actually quite a perverse anachronism. The Great War was sparked by an aggressive nationalist sentiment, which reverberated across the world. The War concluded with the fall of mighty Empires, the Russian, German, Austro-Hungarian and Ottoman Empires.

Commentators on the left fail to distinguish the crucial distinctions between the British Empire and the Empires that fell after 1918. It is a consequence of their narrow minded philosophy. This is where the hollow platitudes and prejudices about the tactics of the upper echelons of the British Armed Forces originate from, the supposedly nefarious antics that were deployed in the anti-colonial wars in Africa.

There is a fatal flaw in this binary perception of the world. History is never that simple, and important figures from the past are rarely black or white. It would be easy to divide the major players of history into heroes and villains, but that is not the reality of the world. Certainly, in the case of the world’s first major war there was no sole cause. There were multiple reasons, and numerous grievances that led to the outbreak of hostilities.

The once stable and familiar world of the “old guard” was fragmenting. It was difficult to sustain the existence of these multiethnic Empires, their power and influence held an increasingly fragile grip over the people that they ruled. The national self-determination of the Serbs, the Poles, the Ukrainians and the Arabs in particular became the primary motivators for the War. When the War ended, three European Royal houses fell and their Empires collapsed. The former Ottoman territories were now in the hands of the victorious allies, France and the United Kingdom.

The closing scenes in the theatre of the “Great War” remodelled the entire world. A new age of modernity was ushered in, and the map of the world was redrawn.

A Sacred Battle

On the 5th November, the people of the United Kingdom commemorate Guy Fawkes Night, or Bonfire Night. I have always approached the festivities with trepidation, as it is a night where I feel conflicted emotions. I do not regard it as a celebration, rather it is an occasion filled with fear and dread, a salutary warning from history.

All of my memories of it remain the same. The night is a mixture of a funeral and a cathartic drama. It does not fill me with joy, as it is yet another reminder of the bitter religious and cultural divisions that scarred our nation for centuries, and led to many deaths.

The commemorations begin with the construction of a bonfire and an effigy of Guy Fawkes is placed on the top. The “Guy” is summarily burned. Fireworks are obligatory, these are designed to add to the atmosphere of spectacle and suspense.

Every schoolchild in the country was implored to “remember, remember” this dark episode of our history when a religious fanatic and terrorist attempted to assassinate the King and ultimately destroy Parliamentary democracy.

Fawkes’ uncompromising stance belies King James’ almost herculean efforts to unify his fractious KIngdom. The task was onerous, his aim was to be the peacemaker. His ultimate ambition was to reconcile Catholic and Protestant and to re-establish religious unity. Despite this laudable ambition, bigotry and prejudice continued to prevail across the religious spectrum.

A significant minority in this country expressed an unwaveringly radical religious zeal. In the case of Fawkes his self-righteousness was so entrenched that he was prepared to commit acts of terrorism. If the Gunpowder Plot had succeeded, it would have destroyed the entire political establishment of England.

Fawkes’ scurrilous plan of sedition and treason followed a familiar pattern in our history, a continual fight to establish the very identity of the nation. Religion was a vital piece, it was the heart and soul combined within a nation. It was a sacred battle. The King himself was the epitome of this religious ambiguity, his mother was a devout Roman Catholic but as a boy he was taught under the auspices of a Protestant court.

As a consequence, this division was a personal matter and a source of great dissatisfaction. It was a quandary that threatened the survival of the nation itself. He was a learned man, and had deep insight. He acknowledged that ignorance was the root of prejudice, and this motivated him to translate The Bible into English.

The King James Bible was one of his greatest achievements as Monarch. It exemplifies how the English assimilate and adapt ostensibly “foreign” influences to create a distinctly English literary culture. Our culture has been established upon profound spiritual truths that still echo throughout the generations.

This country has faced existential threats since its inception, but we must remember the powerful words contained in the preface to the first edition, the words,

“That openeth the window, to let in the light; that breaketh the shell, that we may eat the kernel…that removeth the cover of the well, that we may come by the water”.

The Seed of Chaos

On the 25th October, 1760 King George II died. He was 77 years old. As the British Monarch he was considerably more popular than his predecessor, his father, King George I. The Kingdom itself had been in a fractious state since the death of Queen Anne, the last Stuart Monarch. The political and religious identity of the country was in flux and there were fears of a Catholic resurgence.

Anne died without any surviving heirs, her half-brother King James VIII was mooted as her successor. He was known in history as the “Old Pretender”, as he refused to renounce his Roman Catholic faith. In 1701 the Act of Settlement was passed. This stipulated that the reigning King or Queen could not be Catholic. Consequently a new dynasty, the House of Hanover, supplanted the Stuarts’ reign.

The arrival of a foreign Monarch was greeted with bemusement by the British public. His coronation was not welcomed, banners mocking him were unfurled across the country. There were fears that a new civil war was on the horizon, as secret plots to restore the Stuarts were uncovered. In 1715, a General Election was called. Violent protests erupted across the kingdom and banners which proclaimed “No Hanover” and “Down with the Roundheads”.

Perceptions of this German King fluctuated between a sense of distaste and national shame. There was a genuine feeling that the Kingdom had become a laughing stock. George cared little for his adopted realm, he was resolutely German and his tastes were philistine. In addition he was bluff, rude and had no sense of humour. He was uneasy in public, and many suspected that he had little regard for his subjects. It was said that “the King is already become the Jest, the Contempt and Aversion of the Nation”. In contrast, his son adored England and fully embraced the culture, and the customs. King George I detested the pomp and pageantry, but the Prince of Wales was completely enamoured by it.

When the then Prince of Wales moved into the palace at Hampton Court, he made great efforts to appeal to prominent intellectual and cultural figures. A thriving court culture emerged. Invitations to attend dinners and fetes were sent to poets, scientists and many other renowned thinkers and writers.

His power and influence over the Kingdom threatened to eclipse his father. A feud then began between father and son, and the Prince was evicted. He was banished to new lodgings at Leicester House. The political allies of the Stuarts hoped that this would lead to the fall of the House of Hanover, but this never materialised.

The dull, functional reign of the Hanoverian King was mirrored in the political realm. The Tory hegemony had declined, and the country entered a period dominated by the Whig party. The Whigs were what we would now term “globalists” and sought to acquire wealth and influence in overseas projects and ventures.

The Whig government had no compunction investing in trade that was unethical and immoral. One example was the transatlantic slave trade, which they participated in believing that it benefitted the economy, and improved the country’s status on the international stage.

The Whigs were pure pragmatists and materialists, something which horrified natural Tories like the poet and writer Alexander Pope. Pope loathed pedantry and what we would now term “scientism”, which is an obsessively literal and dogmatic perception of the world around us. He saw it as a great failure of imagination and a sign of a civilisation in decline.

King George I died in 1727, en route to a visit to Germany. The country had endured thirteen years of dourness and the newly crowned KIng George II was determined to restore this nation to its former splendour. He commissioned Handel to write an anthem for his coronation. Handel was also German and an Anglophile, and had a great fondness for his adopted home. His triumphant anthem “Zadok the Priest” is now a fixture of every coronation. KIng George II was the ultimate outsider, but his tireless efforts to unite the Kingdom are his greatest legacy.

The Day the Music Died

The short life of Meredith Hunter is often forgotten in the mythology of modern, popular history. There are many people who are acquainted with a passing knowledge of contemporary pop and rock music, and the legends associated with it. They will only have a vague memory of his death, but it is unlikely that they are aware of his identity or name.

Hunter was born on October 24th, 1951 in California. The circumstances of his death are shrouded in conspiracy, and fresh doubts about his death are triggered whenever a suspicious killing reaches the wider news. However these doubts are always made by people acting in bad faith. Their complaints of injustice and foul play are made by the usual suspects who point out that Hunter was a young black man, and his killer was white.

However these self-styled warriors for racial justice omit the inconvenient details. They choose to overlook the significant factors that led to his death. They blithely dismiss the relevance of these important, militating factors which are crucial in understanding how he died. At the time of his death Hunter was intoxicated with drugs and alcohol, was behaving erratically and was in possession of a gun. Hunter died at the Altamont festival on December 6, 1969. He was just 18 years old. The festival itself was marred by violence, drunkenness and drug taking. The headline act, The Rolling Stones hired the motorbike gang the Hell’s Angels as security and they were paid $500 in beer.

This was a rash and thoughtless decision which ultimately cost Hunter’s life. Hunter was observed climbing the stage during the Stones set in a heightened and excitable state. The security guard Alan Passaro intervened, then began punching and stabbing him, claiming that he was acting in self-defence. At his trial, the jury were convinced by his testimony and he was acquitted. This tragic case was considered closed years ago, but this has not prevented the rumours and conspiracies fomenting in the minds of people over the decades.

The entire tragedy has been exploited in a rather crass and insensitive fashion by commentators with a particular axe to grind. The freedom and expression emanating from this era was perceived as dangerous and threatening. Hunter’s somewhat violent and unnecessary demise was highlighted as a warning to the young. Modern commentators continue to repeat the same hackneyed refrain, that it was a perverse coincidence of fate that the decade of hope and enlightenment ended in despair and darkness. They are guilty of romanticising the past and they are choosing to focus on a small, privileged group of people who benefited from the cultural changes of the sixties. Most people at that time lived their lives in the same fashion as the generations who preceded them.

These social changes were only possible after a prolonged period of peace and relative prosperity across the western world. Young people were richer, safer and better educated than their parents and grandparents. They had no reason to fear imminent world war, and many were given the opportunity to attend college. These were important things that were denied to earlier generations. However these were the fortunate few, there were still deep divisions in society.

It was a myth that the USA was harmonious, as actual history proves that it was still riven with violent tribalism. The myth that groups like the Hell’s Angels would share the same philosophy espoused by young college students was not just naive, it was reckless and fatal. However within the rarefied atmosphere of the college campuses there was a palpable sense of optimism and possibility. Whether this was realistic or genuine, it did not matter to the young people of that time. Youthful positivity was enough, they were convinced that they still had the potential to change the future world. In hindsight, it looked hopelessly idealistic, and at times slightly arrogant. Outsiders could not understand it, and many of them did not want to, they did not dare touch this inherently dangerous, radical spirit.

Nevertheless unlimited freedom has the potential to unlock great harm. In addition to the arrogance of free thinkers, there is a degree of complacency. Freedom is taken for granted, nobody ever envisages the alternative prospect. They also forget the sense of responsibility and respect towards other people.

Hunter was killed at an event that promoted, celebrated and encouraged artistic and cultural expression, but this admirable ethos was completely destroyed in a toxic mix of alcohol, drugs and selfish, arrogant, violent behaviour. In addition to this, latent racism was simmering above the surface. This was in spite of the fact that this musical event was conceived during a time when racial divisions were believed to be dissolving in a harmonious spirit of “peace and love”. The only lesson to be drawn from this dreadful saga is that it is a privilege to have free expression, but this well earned privilege should not be abused.

Now, and in England

On the 12th October, 1872 the English composer Ralph Vaughan Williams was born. He was the third son of an Anglican Priest and spent his early childhood in Down Ampney in Gloucestershire. When he was three years old, his father died unexpectedly and suddenly and the family moved to Surrey. Two years later, at just five years old, he started piano lessons. He possessed prodigious musical talents from an early age, but he soon learned to dislike the piano, and instead directed his attention to the violin. His musical precocity was astonishing. When he was eight he took a correspondence course in music from Edinburgh University and he managed to pass all of the exams.

Three years later he was sent to boarding school and he had fond memories of his school days as happy and productive. After preparatory school he attended Charterhouse where his nascent talents as a composer were encouraged. The high academic standards instilled an important sense of discipline and allowed his innate gifts as a musician to flourish. In 1890 he enrolled on a course at the Royal College of Music, where he became a protege of the esteemed English composer Hubert Parry. Parry taught the young Vaughan Williams composition, and he developed a deep insight into the music of great English composers like Tallis and Byrd. Two years later he left the RCM, to study for a Music and History degree at Cambridge University.

After graduating, he was recruited by St Barnabas Church to work as chief organist and choir master. He was paid £50 a year. He found the work unsatisfying creatively, but it was good practice for a young composer. He returned to Cambridge to complete a doctorate in Music.

One of his Cambridge contemporaries was Gustav Holst, and their friendship became both fruitful and enduring. He also met the philosopher Bertrand Russell, and like many others within his academic circle soon became enamoured with his inquiring mind and burgeoning intellect.

Russell’s radical ideas about society inspired, albeit in a subtle way, his ideas about music and its public role. Progressive ideas had shaped Vaughan Williams’ political perspective from an early age, as he came from a family of social reformers. One of his ancestors was the pottery magnate Josiah Wedgwood who was renowned as a prominent campaigner against slavery.

In 1901, he received his doctorate which led to academic opportunities. He contributed to music journals and lectured part time. Throughout his professional career he fiercely resisted the notion that classical music was elitist, and dedicated his entire life in an endeavour to make music more accessible. He believed that music was one of the most fundamental forms of human expression and it was his life’s wish to return it back to the people.

In 1903 he followed the example of the English folklorist Cecil Sharp and spent an entire year in the English countryside collecting folk songs. He was on a mission to prove that music was universal. Wealth and status were not necessary attributes, and the lack of these things did not exclude anyone from enjoying or participating in music.

One of the most moving encounters occurred in an Essex village. Vaughan Williams invited a seventy year old rural labourer called Charles Pottipher to sing. The song he chose to sing was “Bushes and Briars”, and the composer was suffused with a sense of familiarity. He immediately understood its significance in the canon of national music. It had been said by an unknown aficionado of English song that “every country village in England was a nest of singing birds”.

Vaughan Williams’ work seemed especially urgent when, in 1904, the German critic Oscar Schmitz loftily pronounced England as “the land without music”. This damning accusation was harsh, and unfair. It is true to say that Germany has always been known for its musical luminaries. Other European countries like France, Austria and the Netherlands have also created great composers. A cursory glance at England, would suggest that there were very few equivalent musical greats to match their reputation.

However, the people on this island have always created music. Our tradition of songs is ancient, but barely recognised. It originates back to a time before the Roman invasion, when the indigenous Celts created orders of Bards who held high status in society. Their primary purpose was to celebrate the achievements of warriors and chiefs through the medium of song. The inheritors of the Bardic tradition were the humble, but hardy folk who worked the land. Their bleak existence was immortalised in song. Everyone who lived in these communities knew the songs and these were passed down through the generations, but were never recorded.

The Victorian era coincided with industrialisation. The tragic songs associated with the rural poor would have been buried and forgotten without the sterling efforts of individuals like Vaughan Williams. He revived these long lost laments, and brought them to a new audience by setting them to a distinctive, plangent and recognisably English style of music. An important piece of national history was preserved.

The haste for modernity and the neglect of the past is immensely damaging. It is often forgotten that people were happier when they lived in a much simpler time. The writer William Makepeace Thackeray reflected wistfully,

“Then was the old world. Stage-coaches…highwaymen, Druids, Ancient Britons…all these belong to the old period…We who lived before railways and survive out of the ancient world, are like Father Noah and his family out of the Ark”.

The clamour for the new at the expense of the old is foolish. Our sense of ourselves has been forged by those who came before us, and will continue to shape those who will come after us.

Eliot opined that the English landscape, and in turn the English sensibility was timeless and eternal in that unforgettable line from “Four Quartets”, “Now and in England”. This almost melancholic elegy to a country that seemed to be fading from the memory is evident in the music of Vaughan Williams. In 1910 he composed “Fantasia on a Theme By Thomas Tallis”. This was a reinterpretation of an earlier work by the 16th century English composer Thomas Tallis. Tallis was a devout Catholic, and his compositions had a deeply religious theme. Vaughan Williams reworked a piece of music inspired by a psalm. The music he adapted was from a setting to a verse which began “why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing”. The adversities endured by English Catholics during a time of religious persecution were reanimated once more. The music is dark, almost funeral but evokes something profound in the English soul.

The turbulent history of this nation is reflected in Vaughan Williams’ work, he lived and worked through both world wars when there was a genuine fear that our civilisation would be lost to barbarism. However the fact that his work continues to be performed today is a testament to his important legacy. The jibe that England has no music, or indeed no culture at all is often iterated by the ignorant and foolish. It is false, as Vaughan Williams is frequently cited as one of England’s greatest composers. Most people in this country will recognise his music, and that is enough to silence those who continue to undermine and denigrate us.

Russia’s Last Stand

On the 6th of October, 1480 Akhmat Khan, the Tatar leader of the Great Horde ordered his troops to converge on the banks of the Ugra River in a military operation intended to avenge the Russian Grand Prince Ivan III. He was planning a full scale invasion of Moscow, a plan that was triggered by the Prince’s refusal to pay him tribute.

The battle on the Ugra River is a much mythologised piece of Russian folk history. The legend proclaims that this was a decisive event which ultimately ended the Tatar domination of Russia. Russians regard this era as a brutal period of oppression called the “Tatar Yoke”. The Tatars were Turkic speaking tribes allied to the Mongol armies who invaded and colonised a large proportion of Russian land throughout the thirteenth century.

The Mongols were a dynastic clan with militaristic and imperialistic ambitions. They were not content with acquiring most of Central Asia as their fiefdom, they also set their sights on conquering Europe. As they advanced further into the west, they reached the fortresses of Christendom. Yet they showed no mercy. Churches were ransacked, plundered and burned to the ground.

The minor cultural distinctions between Mongols and Tatars were indivisible, as both were committed to imperial domination. However the European principalities targeted by the Mongol/Tatar insurgency were not willing to be subdued. They formed armies to defend their heritage, and major battles were fought. Some of these assembled mercenaries, crusaders and knights were captured and imprisoned.

One of the most notable captives was the German aristocrat Johann Schiltberger. Schiltberger’s experiences as the prisoner of the Tatar Prince were logged in a series of diaries, as he accompanied him on expeditions to distant realms. This was the first detailed account of Tatar civilisation in western literature. He stated,

“I here make known and publish many interesting and strange adventures, which are worth listening to”.

His strange adventures included meeting semi-mythic beings in the mountains, the apocryphal “Wildmen of the Mountains”, who, he reported, “have nothing in common with ordinary human beings”.

Clearly, the military men of the Tatar dominions had a fearsome reputation, which inspired these legends.

However the power and influence of the Tatars was about to be tested in the most dramatic fashion. In 1476 Ivan launched an audacious campaign to seize land from the Tatar rulers. He took Novgorod, Tver and Vlatka and reclaimed these as Russian territory. He also attempted to reclaim disputed territory that the Tatar dynasty maintained belonged to them.

The inhabitants of these territories included a substantial Russian minority who objected to the high taxes that were demanded of them by foreign rulers. They were not free citizens, they were subjects of their Tatar overlords. Compromise and conciliation were no longer options for an increasingly subjugated population. When the official declaration was proclaimed that the tribute would not be paid, manoeuvres for invasion began.

Ivan assembled his Army in the autumn of 1480 and the Ugra battle commenced. The fighting continued for almost a week. Akhmat’s troops attempted to cross the river, but were thwarted by Russian fire. The Tatar defences were no match for the Russian might. The river was impassable,and for an entire month both armies watched each other across the river.

Ivan consolidated his army, extending it towards Moscow. Akhmat was outnumbered, and by November as the river began to freeze over, he withdrew his troops and backed down. Two months later he was killed by a rival khan. In 1502, Crimea destroyed the political and military apparatus of the Great Horde.

However formal, diplomatic relations between the two Empires continued, with varying levels of success. Enmities alternated with rapprochement and new power structures were established, during the early sixteenth century another global Empire sought to influence and trade with the former heartlands of the Great Horde.

Ottoman wealth was built on the slave trade. They collaborated with the Crimean Tatars to acquire ethnic Russians and Ukrainians as slaves, who were then sold at markets. The slave trade helped to supplement the income of the Tatars, as their economy was primarily agrarian.

It is estimated that nearly 3 million Russians and Ukrainians were victims of this practice. Most of the men were forced to work on Ottoman galleys or in the fields, women were recruited as domestic slaves, or taken into the harems of the sultans and the Ottoman officials. Other male slaves were castrated and became servants.

The hegemonic power of the Ottomans and their Tatar collaborators was eventually defeated by a small band of soldiers known as the Cossacks. The Cossacks fought and won skirmishes, and helped to free the slaves. The Ottoman Empire ultimately fell into decline, and the Russians yet again proved their might. Unfortunately, the old alliances were also weakening and the “Eastern Question” aroused fear and suspicion. This culminated in the Crimean War.

After Crimea, a chain of events across the globe sealed the fate of the Russian Empire. The political earthquake of the Russian revolution shook the people to the core. The revolution took away a vital piece of the Russian soul, in the fact that the revolutionaries promised an end to human suffering when Russian identity owed so much to it, as Dostoevsky opined,

“I think the most important, most rudimentary spiritual need of the Russian people is the need for suffering (it is) constant and unquenchable, everywhere and in everything. It seems they have been infected with this thirst for suffering from time immemorial”.

The Soviet regime suppressed nationalist sentiment, and attempted to erase cultural history. The Communist experiment in Russia failed, but the path towards democracy has been fraught. The actual, impartial account of Russian history has been lost, and its direction in the world remains unclear.

Today, the only remnants of the past are embellished accounts of Russia’s imperial glory. Russians cling to these stories as the only source of national pride when most of the world pours scorn upon them. Putin has found himself politically isolated, and as a consequence he has been forced to look East for new alliances.

The deals forged with China and Iran are tactical moves. However if you believe that the Russian soul is implacably opposed to the notion of individual freedom under a democratic state it also represents the denouement of Russia itself. The philosopher Oswald Spengler claimed that Russia was distinct from western European nations. Spengler said that western Europeans look vertically up to the stars and develop a sense of their individuality. In contrast, Russians look horizontally across the Eastern steppe and develop a will-less soul, seeking brotherhood above anything else.

Russia is considered a pariah in western nations, but a lot of this is based on ignorance and a fundamental misunderstanding of history and culture. Perhaps Russia will always stand alone, and it is her fate.

A Dancer in the Music of Time

On the 26th September, 1988, “Strip Mine” was released by the Manchester based band, James. This was their second studio album. The band began in 1982 as a motley collection of musicians, fronted by the mercurial and gloriously eccentric singer and dancer Tim Booth. The original line up included Booth, the bassist Jim Glennie, who provided the name for the band, his friend Paul Gilbertson on lead guitar and Gavan Wheeler on drums.

Booth was not their first singer, initially, other vocalists preceded him but they were not matched with the rest of the band, musically or aesthetically. The band were experimental from the beginning, and the music they created emerged from jam sessions and improvisations on original material. After an unsuccessful run as a support band for The Fall, they realised that they had to find someone who could provide a clearer musical and artistic direction.

Booth was a Drama student at Manchester University. Paul Gilbertson saw him dance at a student disco and was so impressed that he asked him to join the band as a dancer. However, he was also a skilled vocalist and he was recruited as the lead singer. He also proved to be a gifted songwriter, and he collaborated on the first songs.

Booth was a troubled young man, he was sent away to boarding school in Shrewsbury when he was just seven. This would be traumatic for anyone, but it is always worse for someone especially sensitive and creative.

He was also a sickly child, he was afflicted with a chronic liver condition that meant long stays in hospitals. Consequently by the time he attended University he seemed both tragically unworldly and unprepared for adult life. Gilbertson was unaware that on the night he met Booth, he was going through a romantic crisis and his wildly expressive dancing was a response to his feelings of dejection.

When I first heard the album I felt a strong emotional connection, not just to the band or to the songs, but to Booth himself. There was a naivety and a vulnerability to him that appealed to me. I thought that it took a great deal of courage to reveal this on stage, but rather predictably the emotionally stunted music press ridiculed him.

However it seemed remarkable to me that he was not daunted by any of this, and he became even less self-conscious and more expressive in his performances. The songs themselves are innocent reflections on the cruelties that were inflicted on people by the governments of the day. The poetic lyrics combine with a very English musical accompaniment, a novel combination of folk and pop which was unusual for that time.

James have gone through several line-up changes since then, but the one constant has been Tim Booth. He helped to create the musical and artistic identity of the band and despite the almost predictable brickbats from an increasingly cynical music press, he continues to write and perform. Pop music has become very anodyne, and it needs singular characters like Booth to invigorate and inspire.

The New Machine Age

The appalling events that unfolded on the 11th of September, 2001 are eternally sealed within the memory of the western world. This was no ordinary date in history, it defined a stage in our collective consciousness. The entire culture of the 21st century was shaped and created by these unforgettable atrocities.

However the entire culture of the century before was created in the shadow of the nuclear bomb. At the time, this was considered the greatest threat to civilization. It had the potential to destroy everything in its path, in less enlightened times men feared that only divine forces possessed this power.

This time, Gods had been superseded by science. The machine was greater than the combined intelligence of even the most formidable intellects of that era. Albert Einstein had developed the formula for the bomb, but he had no real thirst for war. He was persuaded by the politicians of that time who were convinced that Germany had the capability to attack the USA. This was proven to be false, but the fear was genuine and the need for the ultimate deterrent was impressed upon him.

He had no idea that the weapons would be used in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. He was a lifelong pacifist, and never could conceive that they would be deployed. In his later years he regretted this part he played in twentieth century history, admitting that this was “the one great mistake in my life”. Contrary to popular belief, Einstein was not a cold and calculating rationalist. He was more complicated than the crude caricature. He was not Frankenstein.

He was a scientific genius, but he was not immune to the allure of the transcendent. He understood the importance of the arts, and was a virtuoso on the piano and the violin. He said that “the greatest scientists are artists as well”. This side to his character is often overlooked. In the clamour for improving scientific understanding, the arts are sidelined or ignored entirely. It is as if the human imagination has no relevance to the appreciation of our world.

This ignorance and prejudice was heightened after the 9/11 attacks. The political response was swift and brutal. A new “war on terror” was unleashed upon the supposedly benighted nations of Afghanistan and Iraq. Western intellectuals, whose antecedents were proud pacifists, enthusiastically backed the efforts of the politicians. In their binary comprehension of the world, these thinkers perceived the west as the modern, progressive, secular, rationalists and the east as the backward, intolerant, superstitious, deluded bigots.

The condescension shown by these supposed intellectual heavyweights was deeply mortifying, and the arrogance and contempt was clear for everyone to see, except themselves. This was abundantly clear in the case of Christopher HItchens, who made an entire career out of his atheism and sneered and patronised anyone who dared to challenge or contradict him. He collaborated with his fellow atheist Richard Dawkins to present what they considered a purely rational conception of the world. Unwittingly they became the new dogmatists, and those who maintained a belief in God were condemned as heretics.

Dawkins presents human beings as programmable machines, another version of modern computers. This idea has become popular in the computer age, but it is only an idea, it is not an objectively proven fact. This idea is potentially dangerous, as again it negates the importance of the imagination, and the very human desire to believe in a higher spiritual power.

E.M Forster had a profound insight into the dangers of such ideas when he wrote his startling novella “The Machine Stops” in 1909. This was a forewarning of the new machine age that we are living in, when,

“It has robbed us of the sense of space and of the sense of touch. It has blurred every human relation and narrowed down love to a carnal act, it has paralysed our bodies and our wills, and now it compels us to worship it”.

It is a tragedy that we have forgotten morals, ethics and God. We have sacrificed these to the machine and we are paying the price.