Previously on the 28 Districts…
One day, for no clear reason, I decided to begin an
investigation into the 2007 fire attack on the Cutty Sark, which resulted in me
accusing the manager of the HMS Belfast "Mr A Sailor" of starting the fire out
of “boat envy.”
He denied any wrong doing, and told me he believed the fire
was started by someone at the National Maritime Museum reasoning, “ 'Tis a scurvy bunch of sea dogs in that place.”
I asked him what proof he had, and he replied, “Argh, not a shred me shipmate, 'tis just a feeling in me gullet.
But you mark these old sailors’ words, 'tis skulduggery afoot in thar museum.”
I took this information to the police, who told me they did
not consider a general suspicion of skulduggery an adequate enough reason to
start a criminal investigation. So I simply gave up.
But a few weeks later during a visit to Lesnes Abbey in SE2, I
met a mysterious man who told me that I was in grave danger, and that if I
wanted to know who burnt down the Cutty Sark, I should meet him at the birth
place of Charlie Chaplin in SE17 the following week.
He never showed. Instead I was given a letter by an
unknown cyclist telling me to, "Forget about the fire."
But I couldn’t forget, so I decided to stake out the Thames Cycle Path in the hope I would see the cyclist again, reasoning that no one
that enjoyed cycling could resist a ride along the Thames from Woolwich to
Erith on a fine sunny Saturday morning.
And it worked! She cycled passed me three Saturdays ago as I
walked along the Erith Marshes. But I hadn’t thought the plan through properly
as I was on foot, so I had no way of catching up with her.
I went back the
next Saturday with my bike, and I saw her again! But I’d forgotten to set up a
cycling playlist on my iPod, so I was forced to give chase while listening to the
best of Simon and Garfunkel; which was never going to work. I lost sight of her
before we’d even gone as far as Thamesmead.
The Saturday after that I waited on my bike with my playlist set
up, and this time, when my nemesis passed me; I was ready.
I pedalled after her along the Thames to Woolwich, where she
came off the path and headed to towards Charlton. She cycled so fast that I had
to throw away my basket and handle bar streamers just to not lose sight of
her. I managed to keep up till we got to Shooters Hill, then I collapsed with
exhaustion.
But all was not lost. I reasoned that if I surprised her at
the top of Shooters Hill, she might be too tired to cycle away, and then I
could ask her who she was, and what the bloody hell was going on... and that
readers, is why this entry is ridiculously long, and starts with me saying…
Hello People,
Today I’m at Shooters Hill SE18, and from here it feels like
I can see the whole of London. To my right is The Bull, a pub which dates back
to 1749, it used to be a popular stopping point for coaches travelling along
the route between London and Dover. These days the only travellers they get is
when the 486 bus breaks down before it can get over the hill, but it still gets
its fair share of locals popping in for a pint.
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| View from Shooters Hill to SE London |
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| The Bull Pub |
In the early days of The Bull's life, Shooters Hill was not a
place you would want to spend any length of time in. The area was notorious for highwaymen and criminality. To deter these bandits, large wooden structures
called gibbets were built, and any highwayman caught would be hung from them.
The famous diarist Samuel Peeps wrote about them in 1661:
"I rode under a man that hangs at Shooters Hill and a
filthy sight it was to see how the flesh is shrunk from his bones.”
Some say Shooters Hill got its name from its notorious
reputation for highwaymen. Others believe the name dates back to a period in
our history known as the Dark Ages, when - so the legend goes - it was the site
of an archers target range built by the English monarch King Madbstrd III.
King Madbstrd was something of a free spirit. He travelled a
lot. He loved meeting new people and embracing new cultures and experiences.
But the thing he loved most about travelling, was conquering all the places he
visited, and declaring himself their new King.
Sadly for the King, this meant he got caught up in lots of
expensive and long running wars with the Scots, the Welsh, the Irish, the
French, the.... well everyone really.
Back then wars were fought and won by the different armies who lined up against each other - usually in a field. Then, on the word go,
all the soldiers would run at each other while holding the biggest swords or
axes they could carry, and shouting the word 'Freedom!' as loudly as they could.
The army whose soldiers carried the heaviest weapons, and shouted the loudest, won.
These battles could last for weeks, as often the weapons were
so big, soldiers had to drag them inch by inch across the field towards the
opposition. Victories came at a heavy price. By the end of a battle a soldiers throat could be so sore with shouting that he couldn't speak for days afterwards.
King Madbstrd desperately wanted to find a way to win battles
more efficiently. He really wanted to wrap-up his war with France so he could
spend a few months travelling around Asia, chilling out, and getting to know
himself.
So he trained an army of bowmen in Shooters Hill, who he named The Archers (after his favourite radio show) to fire arrows at the
opposition. This was technically considered cheating, and the French tried to
get the English army permanently suspended from competing in any wars. Luckily
for King Madbstrd, his army were let off with a small fine and a 3 match
suspension. After that the English were able to shoot down as many foreigners
as they liked, and pretty quickly, the other nations followed suit.
You won't need to dodge any stray arrows or hanging
highwaymen around here nowadays, but there is still lots to see for the
southeast London explorer. There's a beautiful Victorian Gothic water tower at
the top of the hill. Nearby is the ancient Oxleas Woods. Or you can take a
tour of Severndroog Castle, built to commemorate Commodore Sir William James
who, while commanding the Bombay Marine Ship Protector in 1755, attacked and
destroyed a pirate fortress at Suvarnadurg along the western coast of India. After
he died his wife had the castle built so that his brave deed would always be
remembered, and that everyone would know that her husband William was well
hard.
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| The Water Tower |
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| Severndroog Castle |
But what's most interesting are the things you can't see…
Ingeniously well disguised air raid shelters have been found
in some of the gardens and woods that run along Shooters Hill, which some
historians believe may have been put there to help the home troops defend
London against the invading Nazis in WWII.
Small auxiliary units and sniper posts like the bunker shown
above were put around the outskirts of London in 1940 under the orders of
General Edmond Ironside, when the outlook for Britain looked very bleak. Most
have been forgotten about or were buried beneath the M25. Their existence shows
just how real the threat of invasion was to Churchill.
I looked out towards Welling and Kent and tried to imagine Hitler’s
army marching past the quiet Victorian houses, the local pub, and up the hill
towards me. It's a terrifying thought, and another reminder of all that we owe
to that generation.
My thoughts were disturbed by the sound of pedalling, coming
up behind me, I turned back round towards SE London, and I saw the mystery
cyclist coming up the hill. By the time she reached me at the top she was
almost at a standstill. I stepped out in front of her bike; she had no choice
but to stop. We stood in silence for a moment, and the world around us seemed
to become very still. It was she that spoke first.
"It’s you" she said.
To be continued...
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| Shooters Hill Looking towards Kent |
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| Oxleas Woods |
