When Nepotism Goes Bad

When Benito Mussolini (1883-1945), otherwise known as “Il Duce”, ruled Italy as a Fascist dictator in the years leading up to the second World War, one of the more benign privileges he enjoyed was being able to create government positions.  He was also able to appoint whoever he wanted to those positions.

Il Duce was already ruling Italy by utilizing fear and violence, when his daughter Edda (1910-1995) married lifelong fascist Galeazzo Ciano (1903-1944) in 1930. Like many dictators, Mussolini trusted the loyalty of family members over outsiders. In 1933, he appointed his son-in-law Ciano as Head of the Government Press Office. In 1934 Ciano was appointed as the newly created Undersecretary for Press and Propaganda, but only until 1935 when he was named as the newly created Minister of Press and Propaganda.

Prime Minister Kálmán Darányi and Foreign Minister Kálmán Kánya greets Italian Foreign Minister Galeazzo Ciano and his wife Edda Mussolini on 13 November 1936. Photo via Wikimedia Commons

Ciano left that position later that same year to volunteer for military action when Italy invaded Ethiopia. He was the dictator’s son-in-law, so obviously he did not start his military “career” cleaning latrines as a Private. After receiving a couple of medals for valor, he returned to Italy in 1936 and was appointed to take over his father-in-law’s position as Minister of Foreign Affairs.

In the late 1930s, Mussolini allied with another authoritarian leader, Adolf Hitler (1889-1945), in Germany. World War II began when Hitler invaded Poland in 1939, causing Great Britain and France to declare war on Germany. It turns out that wasn’t an equal partnership and in January 1943 Ciano urged his father-in-law to break with Germany and seek terms with the Allies.

Ciano (far right) meeting with Neville Chamberlain, Adolf Hitler, Benito Mussolini and others. Photo via Wikimedia Commons, Attribution: Bundesarchiv, Bild 183-R69173 / CC-BY-SA 3.0

Alas, with some people loyalty only works in one direction. In February 1943 Mussolini fired his entire cabinet, including Ciano, who became an envoy to the Vatican. In July 1943, Ciano voted against his father-in-law continuing as the head of government. With enough votes to oust Mussolini, Italian King Victor Emmanuel III dismissed Mussolini and had him arrested.

In August, Ciano and his immediate family fled to Germany, fearing they would be arrested in Italy. In September, Hitler had Mussolini rescued and set him up as the head of a new Fascist state in northern Italy, which was propped up by Germany. Germany sent Ciano back to work with his father-in-law, but when Ciano got there, he was arrested for treason for his July vote against Mussolini.

Count Galeazzo Ciano, Mussolini’s foreign minster and son-in-law at his desk in Palazzo Chigi, Rome in 1937. Photo via Wikimedia Commons

Although Edda begged her father to spare her husband’s life, Ciano was executed by a firing squad in January 1944. She had escaped to Switzerland a couple of days before her husband’s death, and never forgave her father. Mussolini died a little more than a year after Ciano.

One last thing. Ciano kept diaries, but not diaries about his personal life. He wrote about government meetings. He wrote about what was said and about his opinions. I haven’t read the published diaries, but apparently he shared some not-very-nice things about Hitler. Edda tried to use the threat of the contents of the diaries to save her husband, but like her pleas to her father, it didn’t work. She had those diaries published after the war, and they are are great primary source for historians.

So there you go. Nepotism practiced because of a belief in the trust and loyalty of family, which ultimately was shown not to exist on either side.

Here’s Our Sandbar

A couple of months ago I wrote a post about sand. At the time, I didn’t have any good pictures of our sandbar in our lagoon. Now I do, so I thought I’d share before they bring in the special equipment to move all this sand to the beach on the other side of the road.

Sandbar in Carlsbad, showing the road that divides the lagoon from the beach. Photo: Cathy Hanson

Am I the only one who thinks of Gilligan’s Island every time I type lagoon?

Sandbar in Carlsbad, giving you a better idea of the size of the lagoon. Photo: Cathy Hanson

Fantasy and History at the Movies

There are some movies from the late 1980s that have stood the test of time. They are watched by new generations and quotes from these movies are part of our culture. I mean, who doesn’t know Inigo Montoya’s grievance and proposed action? (If you don’t know, my apologies for my presumption. Please stop reading and go watch The Princess Bride.)

Willow, The Princess Bride, Ladyhawke. These are all fantasy movies with a historical vibe, they all revolve around a quest, their heroic success depends on friendship and teamwork, and (spoiler alert!) the villains are destroyed in the end.

Although these movies feel medieval, they were not, and never claimed to be, historically accurate. However, there are some aspects that are true.

In Willow, our eponymous hero comes to a crossroads in the course of his quest and finds Madmartigan in one of several hanging iron cages. He’d been left there to die for some crime.

Ortenburg ( Lower Bavaria ). Castle museum – Show room for historical justice: Hanging cage. Photo by Wolfgang Sauber via Wikimedia Commons

The hanging metal cage, otherwise known as a gibbet, was historically a device of punishment and/or torture. Because they were also meant as a warning to the living to avoid a life of crime, they were often found at crossroads or other places that would guarantee the widest viewing audience. Being public was the whole point.

Hanging of William Kidd from The Pirates Own Book, by Charles Ellms 1837. Photo via Wikimedia Commons

Sometimes the punished were placed in the gibbets while alive so that they would die a slow death from thirst or exposure. Sometimes the dead bodies of executed criminals were placed in them to slowly rot away as a deterrent to crime. Some of these were left hanging long after there was nothing left but bones.

I’m not sure of the deterrent value, but there were often complaints from the law-abiding citizens. Besides the visual assault, the smell must have been horrific, and there were health concerns with decomposing bodies. Maybe that’s one of the reasons this particular punishment was not used all that often.

Sketch of John Breeds’s (or Breads’s) gibbet irons, preserved in Rye Town Hall, East Sussex. From the Gutenberg Project edition via Wikimedia Commons

The use of gibbets was not limited geographically. There are records of its use in Europe, the Middle East, and the Americas. And it was used for centuries, so it’s not necessarily associated with a particular era.

So now you probably want to check out Willow again, or for the first time. If so, my work here is done.

Rerun: Peach Cemetery

I’m visiting family in Spokane, Washington, so today’s post is a rerun of a post from April 14, 2015, which was inspired by a previous visit to Spokane. Enjoy!


I just returned from spending a week with my family in Washington, and even though I previously lived there for thirty years, it’s nice to know that I can still discover new and interesting stuff.

My sister and her family moved about 65 miles from Spokane to Lincoln a couple of years ago. Since the sawmill in Lincoln closed in the 1980s, there isn’t much in the way of commercial enterprise. There is a boat launch to access Lake Roosevelt, and an RV park if you want to stay and play for a few days on the lake. There are none of the standard American community offerings, like restaurants, churches or bars.

But there is a fascinating bit of history in Lincoln at the Peach Cemetery. This is not like the cemeteries we see all the time, those with orderly rows of headstones. This area, enclosed by wire fencing, has headstones placed with no obvious organization and large sections that appear to have nothing at all.

Peach Cemetery. Photo Credit: Cathy Hanson

Peach Cemetery. Photo Credit: Cathy Hanson

It turns out that there was once a town called Peach at the confluence of the Columbia River and Hawk Creek, situated perfectly for growing fruit orchards. A U.S. post office was established in Peach in 1898 and by 1900 there were about forty families using their land for peach, plum, apricot, pear, apple and cherry orchards. By 1917, Peach was a community of about 300 people and had a school for grades one through ten, a hotel, a grocery, a feed store and a church. They used the railroad that stopped in nearby Creston to ship their fruit to other parts of the country. Everything seemed to be going well.

Peach Cemetery. Photo Credit: Cathy Hanson

Peach Cemetery. Photo Credit: Cathy Hanson

Then came Grand Coulee Dam. This dam is the largest facility in the United States producing electric power, and was built on the Columbia River, creating a reservoir covering 150 miles. This reservoir was named Franklin D. Roosevelt Lake, but now everyone just calls it Lake Roosevelt.

Photo Credit: Cathy Hanson

Photo Credit: Cathy Hanson

Peach was one of ten towns large enough to have a post office that would be displaced by the reservoir. The federal government paid landowners to vacate, requiring that they vacate by January 1, 1939 and the residents of Peach dispersed rather than relocating. Homes were either moved to higher ground or were burned along with the orchards. Stumps were blasted out with dynamite. A sign at the boat launch states that nearly 5,000 structures were either moved or burned.

Photo Credit: Cathy Hanson

Photo Credit: Cathy Hanson

Clearing the land to prepare for the reservoir was the responsibility of the Works Projects Administration (WPA), who employed more than 2,000 people for that purpose. They were to clear everything that might later float to the surface, although my dad said that when the water level is really low you can still see tree stumps on the bottom that were not completely cleared. In April of 1939 the post office was officially decommissioned, and by July, everything was gone.

Photo Credit: Cathy Hanson

Photo Credit: Cathy Hanson

Along with the homes, businesses, orchards and road, there were also cemeteries. Peach had one cemetery on high ground, but the remains from two others, the W.L. Brannon Cemetery and the W.H. Balcom Cemetery, were moved in 1939. Relocation was the responsibility of the Ball & Dodd Funeral Home in Spokane. Not all graves were relocated to Peach Cemetery in Lincoln. Many were relocated, I’m assuming at the request of the families, to nearby Creston.

Photo Credit: Cathy Hanson

Photo Credit: Cathy Hanson

The early records are lacking in detail, but the relocated cemetery has been walked and had the headstones recorded several times over the years by interested people and associations. The headstones date from 1892 to 1953. Rosters of the graves were created in 1968 and 1974, but I couldn’t find any original records detailing the graves that were relocated. There are a number of unknown and unmarked graves, and several of the stones on the previous rosters are no longer there. A volunteer group of local residents clean the cemetery annually, mowing the weeds and removing any trash.


Photo Credit: Cathy Hanson

There was a documentary filmed that is available for viewing at museums in Davenport and Wenatchee, but I didn’t have the opportunity to see it, so I am not sure what information it provides or even when it was filmed.

An interesting thing about local history is that there are often connections to people you know. A lady who has been a family friend for almost thirty years knew some of her family had lived in Peach, but had no idea about the relocated graves, or that her family was represented in this cemetery.

Photo Credit: Cathy Hanson

Photo Credit: Cathy Hanson

There were more than fifty cemeteries in the flooded area, many of them Native American burial grounds, but that is another story for another day.

News of the Battle of the Little Bighorn

Although I am happy that modern technology allows us access to news almost immediately, I enjoy looking at the first newspaper reports of historical events. I like to see how much we learned after the initial reports as well as how the public’s attitudes towards those people and events have evolved. I have previously blogged about newspaper reports of Lizzie Borden and the Titanic.

This time I’m checking out the first public reporting of the Battle of the Little Bighorn, also commonly known, as if it were a morality play, as Custer’s Last Stand. On June 25, 1876, George Armstrong Custer led a cavalry regiment of the U.S. Army against a coalition of Native American tribes. For a variety of reasons, including the simple fact that the U.S. forces were completely outnumbered, 286 soldiers died that day, including Custer.

Brigadier General George Armstrong Custer, wearing a custom-made blue velvet uniform, ca. 1864. Don’t judge – maybe all soldiers had custom-made blue velvet uniforms. Photo via Wikimedia Commons

For the past 141 years, this battle and the participants have been studied and debated thoroughly. I was always less interested in the strategies and errors of the battle than in how the opinions of the American public shifted throughout the years. Was he hero or villain? Master strategist or vain publicity hound? Does it even matter how we view him from 25 or 50 or 141 years on, when the facts of the battle don’t change?

The New York Times has a great searchable archive available online, and this is their first report of the battle on July 6, 1876, which had been reported in Salt Lake on July 5 from a July 2 report from Montana.




SALT LAKE, July 5. – The special correspondent of the Helena (Montana) Herald writes from Stillwater, Montana, under date of July 2, as follows:

Muggins Taylor, a scout for Gen. Gibbon, arrived here last night direct from Little Horn River, and reports that Gen. Custer found the Indian camp of 2,000 lodges on the Little Horn, and immediately attached it. He charged the thickest portion of the camp with five companies. Nothing is known of the operations of this detachment, except their course as traced by the dead. Major Reno commanded the other seven companies, and attacked the lower portion of the camp. The Indians poured a murderous fire from all directions. Gen. Custer his two brothers, his nephew, and brother-in-law were all killed, and not one of his detachment escaped. Two hundred and seven men were buried in one place. The number of killed is estimated at 300, and the wounded at thirty-one.

The Indians surrounded Major Reno’s command and held them one day in the hills cut off from water, until Gibbon’s command came in sight, when they broke camp in the night and left. The Seventh fought like tigers, and were overcome by mere brute force.

The Indian loss cannot be estimated as they bore off and cached most of their killed. The remnant of the Seventh Cavalry and Gibbon’s command are returning to the mouth of the Little Horn, where a steam-boat lies. The Indians got all the arms of the killed soldiers. There were seventeen commissioned officers killed. The whole Custer family died at the head of their column.

The exact loss is not known as both Adjutants and the Sergeant-major were killed. The Indian camp was from three to four miles long, and was twenty miles up the Little Horn from its mouth.

The Indians actually pulled men off their horses, in some instances.

This report is given as Taylor told it, as he was over the field after the battle. The above is confirmed by other letters, which say Custer has met with a fearful disaster.


SALT LAKE CITY, July 5. – The Times publishes a dispatch from Boseman, Montana Territory, dated July 3, 7 P.M.

Mr. Taylor, bearer of dispatches from Little Horn to Fort Ellis, arrived this evening, and reports the following:

The battle was fought on the 25th of June, thirty or forty miles below the Little Horn. Gen. Custer attacked an Indian village of from 2,500 to 4,000 warriors on one side, and Col. Rneo was to attack it on the other side. Three companies were placed on a hill as a reserve.

Gen. Custer and fifteen officers and every man belonging to the five companies were killed. Reno retreated under the protection of the reserve. The whole number killed was 315. Gen. Gibbon joined Reno.

When the Indians left, the battle-field looked like a slaughter-pen, as it really was, being in a narrow ravine. The dead were much mutilated.

The situation now looks serious. Gen. Terry arrived at Gibbon’s Camp on a steam-boat, and crossed the command over and accompanied it to join Custer, who knew it was coming before the fight occurred. Lieut. Crittenden, son of Gen. Crittenden, was among the killed.

George Armstrong Custer. This media is available in the holdings of the National Archives and Records Administration, cataloged under the National Archives Identifier (NAID) 558719. Photo via Wikimedia Commons

So that was the first report. That was what they knew, or at least reported, at the beginning.

The next day, July 7, 1876, they printed much more information, including a “sketch” of Custer with his school and Civil War history. They included more details of the battle, the “scene of the massacre”, the causes and consequences, and the views at the War Department.

What stuck me most about this second day of reporting was that it was less a linear report of facts and more editorial. No longer are they “Indians”, they are now called “red devils”. Oh, and there were “no less than ten thousand red devils”. Also on this second day it was reported that:

It is the opinion of Army officers in Chicago, Washington, and Philadelphia, including Gens. Sherman and Sheridan, that Gen. Custer was rashly imprudent to attack such a large number of Indians, Sitting Bull’s force being 4,000 strong. Gen. Sherman thinks that the accounts of the disaster are exaggerated.

And that’s how the news was back in the day when it wasn’t immediate. Should you be interested in seeing how this story progressed, check out The New York Times archives online. Go ahead, see what they reported the NEXT day.


Tarot Cards for Gambling?

I have a couple of friends who are interested in tarot cards, so I decided to check out the history.

  • There are historical references to tarot cards, mostly from Italy, from the 15th century.
  • Playing cards came to Europe from Islamic regions.
  • Originally these were playing cards, used to play a game like bridge. (Which made me wonder if anyone still plays bridge, leading to a research detour where I learned that there are a whole lot of bridge clubs throughout the U.S.)
  • Technology being what it was in the 15th century, the cards were not mass produced. Each card was individually hand-painted, meaning that only the wealthiest could afford them.
  • The images on the cards varied by region.
  • The games played with these cards were not only for fun, but also for gambling.
  • The oldest surviving cards are from 15 decks painted in the 15th century for the Duke of Milan.

The Popess, card from the so-called Visconti-Sforza tarot deck drawn by Bonifacio Bembo, ca. 1450. The Pierpont Morgan Library (inv. M. 630), New York City, USA. Photo via Wikimedia Commons

  • They weren’t used for divination until the late 18th century.
  • Using tarot cards for divination increased during the Victorian Age, as did other practices associated with spiritualism and the occult.
  • The most common tarot deck in the English-speaking world since its release in 1910 is known as the Rider deck (or Rider-Waite deck, or Rider-Waite-Smith deck). I don’t tarot, but even I recognize these cards and their distinctive yellow box.

Photo by Cathy Hanson

  • Even if you don’t tarot, you may know about the tower card. This card represents a sudden, dramatic upheaval, which is not generally pleasant or wanted, even if it ultimately leads to good. So if someone goes through life events that are awful and life-changing, they may say that they’ve been “towered”.

Trump card from Tarot de Marseille by Nicolas Conver (ca. 1760). Recolored version. Photo via Wikimedia Commons

  • I love some of the artwork on modern tarot decks. The artists are working within a thematic framework, but they have freedom within that structure. I’ve seen decks based on Vikings, vampires, fairies, angels, pirates, ghosts, steampunk, voodoo, and of course, cats. I even saw a tarot deck that you can color, just like those adult coloring books that are all the rage.

Feel free to share. Do you tarot?



My Favorite Statue

There’s a lot of buzz about statues lately, so I thought I would share my current personal favorite.

Although our vacation last year was not my first trip to London, it was the first time I remember seeing this particular statue. It’s located at the Horse Guards Parade, which is across St. James’s Park from Buckingham Palace.

Cadiz Memorial. Photo by Cathy Hanson

First, a very little bit of background. The Peninsular War (1807-1814) was fought by allies Spain, Portugal and Britain against Napoleon’s French Empire for control of the Iberian Peninsula. When the Spanish city of Seville was occupied by the French, Spain moved their government and seat of power to Cadiz, a Spanish naval base.

In 1810 the French laid siege to Cadiz, with 70,000 French soldiers surrounding about 2,000 troops in Cadiz. The siege lasted two and a half years and was finally lifted after the Duke of Wellington’s victory at the Battle of Salamanca in 1812.

Check out those claws! Photo by Cathy Hanson

A standard piece of equipment in any siege was a mortar, or what I would call a cannon. When the French forces were driven out, they were forced to leave some of these cannons, which is not surprising when you consider how heavy they must be.

Now THAT’S a cannon. Photo by Cathy Hanson

After the war, the Spanish gave one of the French cannons to the British Prince Regent (1762-1830) to commemorate these events. Instead of just placing the cannon in a park with a plaque, the Prince Regent, who would become King George IV, had the Royal Arsenal at Woolwich create a real statue.

Back of the cannon, with two dogs. Not sure what they symbolize, but I still love the statue. Photo by Cathy Hanson.

Known as the Cadiz Memorial, the statue was placed in 1816. There is an inscription on one side in Latin, with the English translation on the other side.

To commemorate

The raising of the siege of Cadiz in consequence of the glorious victory gained by the

 Duke of Wellington

Over the French near Salamanca on the XXII of July MDCCCXM

This mortar cast for the destruction of that great port with powers surpassing all others

And abandoned by the besiegers on their retreat

Was presented as a token of respect and gratitude by the Spanish nation

To His Royal Highness The Prince Regent.

Here’s part of the inscription, demonstrating why I don’t earn a living as a photographer. Photo by Cathy Hanson

I can’t possibly write about the Cadiz Memorial without mentioning the “bum”. The slang for cannon was “bomb” and was pronounced “bum”. The memorial was known as the “Regent’s Bomb”. Proving that our humor hasn’t evolved much in two centuries, which is not necessarily a bad thing, the jokes were immediate. You can’t really blame them as it seems the Prince Regent had a rather large posterior.

How about you? Do you have a favorite statue? Is it your favorite because of what it represents, because you love the way it looks, or both?

Fashion Becomes Tradition

You’ve probably all watched a TV show or scene from a movie that takes place in a modern British courtroom. Admit it, you either wondered about or giggled at the wigs. Turns out those wigs generate a lot of interest, making it easy to find answers online.

  • The wigs were originally a fashion statement, worn by all fashionable men of means. Good or bad, the legal profession hangs on to tradition even when others let it go.
  • Wigs, originally known as perruques in French and perukes in English, became fashionable in France during the reign of Louis XIV (1643-1715). His cousin, Charles II (1630-1685), was the English king who fled the country when Oliver Cromwell forcibly took over. After Cromwell died, Charles II was restored to the throne, a period known as the Restoration. Huge and fascinating story, but for this post, just know that Charles II returned to England in a wig.
  • Wigs were fashionable in France and England partly because they hid embarrassing things like lice, or the premature baldness caused by syphilis.

A judges’s wig and advocate’s wig on temporary display in Parliament Hall, Edinburgh. Photo by Kim Traynor via Wikimedia Commons

  • The term “bigwig” actually comes from this period. Because wigs were a symbol of wealth and status, people started wearing bigger wigs to show everyone exactly how wealthy and important they were. So we still use “bigwig”, although often disparagingly, to describe someone important.
  • As lawyers were men of means, they were initially just following fashion when they started wearing wigs. Wigs fell out of fashion with the general public in the late 18th century.
  • The Duty on Hair Powder Act of 1795 was a tax on the powder used on hair and wigs. This tax was repealed in 1869.
  • Even today, most of these wigs are made from white horsehair. As the wig ages, the horsehair yellows. Sounds gross, but it’s actually seen as an indication that the attorney is experienced.

Gesehen bei Ede & Ravenscroft, legal wear tailoring and wig making, London, UK. Photo by Oxfordian Kissuth via Wikimedia Commons

  • One of the reasons the tradition continued within the legal profession is that the wigs provided a certain amount of anonymity. Members of the court believed that anonymity protected them from anyone who didn’t like their rulings.
  • Wigs were worn by the legal communities in most of the former British colonies.
  • The wigs and robes worn by barristers and judges are a uniform, an identifier of their livelihood.
  • Wigs are only worn in court, not while attorneys are in their offices doing research. And since 2007, English barristers only wear wigs in court for criminal cases.
  • Judges wear longer wigs than barristers. Bigwigs, indeed.

Judge John Laskey Woolcock, Puisne Judge, 1 February 1927, died 18 January 1929. Identified from Brisbane Grammar Magazine, July 1929. Photo via Wikimedia Commons

  • Most wigs last a barrister or judge’s entire career. That’s good because a barrister’s wig will cost approximately $500, while a judge’s wig will be closer to $3,000.

Those in the legal profession in England are divided over the fate of this tradition. They may just chip away at it until there is nothing left.

What do you think? Dignified or goofy? Do you think this tradition should continue?

But They Were “Men of Their Times”…

I try not to get into current political stuff here because that is not the purpose of this blog. But there is one thing I’ve heard over and over this past week that had me yelling at the television and my phone.

I was bothered by comments that George Washington (1732-1799) and Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826) were slaveholders, BUT they were just “men of their times”. Like they didn’t have any choice. Like everyone else was doing it, so they had to do it. Yeah, did that argument ever work with your parents? Because it didn’t work with mine.

And the thing is, not everyone was doing it.

This is, of course, not a complete history of slavery in the United States. I just wanted to share a couple of thoughts as a reminder to myself and others that historical and current issues are not as simple and one-dimensional as we like to portray them.

During the time of these “men of their times”, there were a variety of abolitionist, anti-slavery and emancipation organizations. Some were black, some were white and some were mixed. They had varying ideas about how quickly the enslaved people should be freed and what should happen to them once they were free. But there was a definite movement in the United States and internationally to abolish slavery.

Reads: “On this 30th day of April 1828 personally appear George Rice before the ?abricut a justice of the peace in and for said County, and made Oath on the Holy Evangely of Almighty God that James Tooley the Negro man now in my presence is the same that manumitted and let free by Phillip Winebrenner. Sworn before George Rohm”. Photo via Wikimedia Commons

During the time of these “men of their times”, the reasons given for being ant-slavery were often religious, but often just basic human morality not tied to religion. It was the belief that humans were humans, not property. One of the ideas of our Revolution was that all men are created equal. (No feminist rant. Must stay focused.)

Although the Civil War happened after Washington and Jefferson were both gone, at the peak of the slaveholding years in the southern states, approximately 32% of white families owned slaves. Most of those families did not own huge plantations, but smaller farms with 2-4 slaves. Again, not everyone was doing it, although many who couldn’t afford to be slaveholders did aspire to it as a symbol of wealth and prosperity.

And during the time of these “men of their times”, there’s my favorite story of a man who was a contemporary of Washington and Jefferson. An actual man of their time. His name was Robert Carter and he at one time owned more slaves than Washington and Jefferson combined. And then he freed them. I wrote a blog post about him last year and would love for you to check it out.

Historical figures are people, so are as flawed as the rest of us. We are also marvelously complex, and this type of simplistic argument is a disservice to all. Rant over.

History and Heritage

If you travel to the United Kingdom and tour a historic house, park or garden, there is a good chance that attraction is part of the National Trust. To preserve and protect history and heritage, the United Kingdom has a charity called National Trust for Places of Historic Interest or Natural Beauty, more widely known as the National Trust.

Dover cliffs, South Foreland Lighthouse. Photo by Archangel12 via Wikimedia Commons

You can learn a lot about history by visiting a country home, especially one that has been preserved from a specific point in time. Besides what you can learn from the basic layout and architecture, these homes usually include furniture, art and books. And you can learn about the history of the family that once lived there, possibly for many generations. This experience gives you a well-rounded knowledge about this one house, family and area.

Eastbury Manor House, Barking, UK. Photo by Gordon Joly via Wikimedia Commons

Here’s some information (and photos) about the group that allows so many tourists, families and schoolchildren to enjoy those experiences.

  • This charity was founded in 1895 to preserve the nation’s heritage and open spaces.
  • The National Trust is a registered charity and not part of the government.
  • Their motto is “for ever, for everyone”.
  • Anyone can become a member of the National Trust as long as they pay the membership fees.
  • The National Trust includes England, Wales and Northern Ireland. Scotland has their own National Trust of Scotland, although there are reciprocal benefits.

Old Harry rocks peak, in Dorset, England. Photo by Graffity via Wikimedia Commons

  • Members receive free entry to all properties.
  • Private land and houses that have been donated or bequeathed to the National Trust can never be sold. Well, except by an Act of Parliament. So never say “never”.
  • There are more than 4.5 million members.
  • How do they take care of all these properties and visitors? Besides a staff of almost 6,000, approximately 60,000 volunteers donate more than three million hours of time each year.

Mow Cop Castle. Photo by Martyn Wright from Stoke on Trent, England via Wikimedia Commons

  • According to the National Trust website, they “look after coastline, forests, woods, fens, beaches, farmland, moorland, islands, archaeological remains, nature reserves, villages, historic houses, gardens, mills and pubs.” Yes, you can do your part to support the National Trust by buying a pint.
  • Funds for preservation efforts derive from membership fees, entrance fees, donations, legacies and income from gift shops and restaurants.
  • Their most visited site is the Giant’s Causeway in Northern Ireland.
  • They are one of the largest private landowners in the United Kingdom.

Anglesey Abbey. Photo by Wehha via Wikimedia Commons

  • The childhood homes of both Paul McCartney and John Lennon are National Trust properties.
  • Many of their country houses and gardens were acquired during the middle of the twentieth century when private owners were no longer able to afford to maintain these large properties or to pay the death duties.

Ashdown House, Oxfordshire. Photo by Des Blenkinsopp via Wikimedia Commons

  • English writer Beatrix Potter was a supporter and donor.
  • Their Facebook page and Twitter feed, @nationaltrust, include great photos, but also notifications of specials and events. And recipes, yum.

You want history and heritage? Tour a National Trust site. It’s one of the easiest ways to learn some history.