Edward Duke of Windsor 1937

South of France,
Christmas, 1937
Dear,
Believe it or not, I nearly started this letter with the words "My most loyal subjects" - it is too hard to have to get used to remembering that some of you were anything but when it came to the crunch. Of course, I don't include you personally. My Christmas card list is much reduced this year, which, now we have to count the pennies, is just as well.
I hope you all had a good year. After the first few months, when I had to be separated from my beloved Wallis because of all the tedious and stupid legal requirements of waiting for her Decree Absolute, my year really took off. Why these trivial legal doodahs should apply when one is a member of the royal family wanting to marry the woman one loves is beyond me.
We had a wonderful, but small, wedding in June. Quietly dignified with just a few old friends, as my family refused to attend, and everyone else was desperate to suck up to the new King and Queen. They were glad enough to accept invitations when I was King.
After a superb honeymoon spent in the Tyrol, Vienna and Venice we were lent a small Austrian country cottage, Schloss Wasserleonberg it was called, though it only had 40 rooms and 30 indoor servants. Wallis lost no time in completely rearranging the place, which was quite hideous with stags’ heads and loads of other outdated rubbish, she soon had that carried up to the attics and redecorated to her usual standards. The Countess who owned the place was quite put out, apparently she liked the old rubbish, no accounting for taste is there? As soon as the decorators had finished we moved out to create a stir in Salzburg, Vienna and Venice once again.
Then a most gratifying thing happened, much to the annoyance of those stuffy British bureaucrats, and we were invited to tour Germany as honoured guests of the German government. Right up my street with my fluent German. We were very thrilled to be invited to tea with Herr Hitler, an interesting cove with some VERY good ideas. We met everyone who is anyone, Goebbels, Ribbentrop, etc., etc. and they were all most civil. I was taken to inspect a lot of things in all the major cities. Wallis with her glamour and charm quite captivated everyone she met; she is so different from your average German hausfrau type with which my family is all too familiar. I soon became proficient at the new-fangled German way of Hail and Farewell. You raise your right arm and say “Heil” something. I so enjoy being at the forefront of new fashions.
Things were a bit flat after all that excitement, so we are off to spend Christmas with old friends on the Riviera and then I think we shall start looking for a property of our own in France. Wallis is not really a country mouse so we are thinking Paris. It will be convenient for dress designers, hairdressers, etc. which keep her so happy and occupied, and there is plenty of nightlife.
All the trees are long planted and not a hospital in sight to be officially opened. Just the social round we so enjoy, and all the time in the world to do nothing forever and ever.
May you have a very happy New Year and may all your dreams come true, as mine have.



Edward, Duke of Windsor (and Wallis)

Edward Duke of Windsor historical notes

Duke of Windsor – Historical notes

Edward VIII was only king for one year when he abdicated to be with his true love. During the war he was made governor of the Bahamas, possibly to keep him well away from Germany and publicity. He died in Paris on May 28, 1972 and Queen Elizabeth II attended his funeral. His wife also died there in April 1986.

King Wenceslas

Bohemia,
Christmas 928
Already it is time to prepare again for the Feast of St. Stephen, it only seems yesterday that the castle was ringing with the screams of animals being butchered and the noise of hundreds of barrels rolling in, which preceded last year's excellent blow-out.
This year we are inviting some of the neighbours; they will have to stay over since our new laws on drunken horse driving have been put on the Statutes. Even more animals will have to go west this year as we really need their skins for parchment since I improved my presentational skills, more of that later.
Our Germanic neighbours are well-in this year, and have some very catchy drinking songs to entertain us with, so useful to cheer up our friends from the Hungar provinces who are so prone to morbidity when the plum brandy runs out.
Of course, we are unable to invite the Poles this year; they took everything not actually nailed to the floor when they finally left last February. They won't mind since I believe their Tartar neighbours are planning an extended visit to Warsaw to show off some of their new weapons and give a festive demonstration of rapine and pillage.
To return to what happened last year. I happened to glance out of the window and saw a suspicious looking man in the park gathering sticks. I thought 'terrorist' immediately, but my page said he knew him. Before having my page arrested as a suspected traitor, I made him gather up some more sticks, a wild boar pie and some of the Queen's pickled onions and, stumbling behind me, the page and I chased the peasant to his humble cottage by the forest fence underneath the mountain. His family was overcome to be visited by royalty and grabbing the pie and pickles disappeared into the forest. We quickly torched their dwelling so they had a fire to feast by, and went home satisfied that justice had been done.
A few weeks later there was some agitation among the peasantry, who misconstrued my actions. I merely wished to give them a lesson in pragmatism and democracy, and have no wish to have my rightful place in history spoiled by being called 'Bad' King Wenceslas. My very clever Queen, who in addition to raising our family and making pickles on a professional basis, came up with the solution. She founded a school of spinning for her ladies. They learn how to take some awful rubbish and turn it into very acceptable yarns. Now I see how simple it is to turn 'bad' into 'good' with the right instruction and presentation. (See above).
I am trying to pass on my newfound expertise to my neighbours and in the spring intend to visit them all to convert them. I expect the more conservative among them will ignore me. They still believe in chivalry for Heaven’s sake! So very yesterday.
Until next time, have a good year,
Yours truly,


Wenceslas

Good King Wenceslas

Wenceslas – Historical Notes

Wenceslas is famous for three things. The carol 'Good King Wenceslas' by John Mason Neale, the statue in Wenceslas Square in Prague and that he was a good Christian who was beatified after he was martyred in 935, outside the church of Saints Cosmas and Damian

Vlad the Impaler 1460

Poenari Castle, Arges River, Wallachia
Christmas eve in the year of our lord 1460
My fellow Wallachians.
Let me begin this Christmas epistle with a little glimpse of my domestic life. We have recently celebrated my thirtieth birthday and my lovely wife looked resplendent. With the recent decline in the population of our fair land we find it is easier to come by the jewellery and couture that suits her on “Ye Bay“ as she likes to call our nearest auction room. After feasting on the beasts of the forest we walked the ramparts by torchlight. How she loves to stand near the edge with the wind caressing her hair and raiment. I know she loves adventure but fear such behaviour on a castle so high will be the death of her.
Around Whitsunday the last of the Boyars finally finished the building work and I pondered their fate. Our castle is magnificent, standing some one thousand four hundred steps above a bend in the Arges River. It was such a ruin when we took it over four years ago just after I ascended the throne. The Easter Day celebration of 1456 seems like yesterday. Oh how the Boyars were surprised when I took them prisoner and marched them the fifty miles from Tirgivste to Poenari still dressed in all their finery. They say revenge is a dish best served cold and as their robes fell apart cold they became. As each one perished I thought of my murdered Father Vlad and mutilated brother Mircea. But I digress, now that the work was compleat, what to do with the remaining Gentlemen builders? Of course it didn’t take long to settle on impalement. I had the servants set up a banquet on the edge of the forest and we arranged the stakes in a rather artistic, I like to think Olympian, set of five circles. Keeping with tradition we reserved the longest stakes for the most senior Nobles. Chef prepared a delicious game terrine and carp in the Transylvanian style and we dined to the slightly discordant accompaniment of their cries.
On the subject of impalement, I have been experimenting with the diameter of pole, end shape and level of fat with which to lubricate their passage down it. Once I have optimised it I plan to ask Pope Pius 11 to approve it as a method of dispatch for the infidels who still threaten our Christian kingdom.
This year I am pleased to report that I achieved many of the social reforms that were promised in my manifesto of 1456.
We have freed the land of disease, infirmity, handicap and hunger. Much of this was achieved following my decree inviting those afflicted to dine with me in the main hall of Tirgivste. Several thousand poor souls turned up. After eating and drinking their fill I asked who here among us would like never to feel pain or hunger again. There being no nay votes or abstentions I had my soldiers barricade the doors and using plenty of faggots and kindling they raised it to the ground. “Oh how merciful is God” as my late Father’s Order of the Dragon proclaimed
Another of my pledges was to reduce crime. We have a two pronged approach -zero tolerance policing and non-custodial sentencing (or short sharp shock). By impaling all of those who disobey my laws - lord or peasant, we are now in a position to leave the golden chalice on permanent open-air display in the main square.
Concerns have been expressed over the fiscal state of our realm. I am pleased to report that not only have we withheld the ten thousand Ducats each year but have also stopped the annual provision of 200 young soldiers to the ungodly Turks.
This St Bartholomew’s day we found that some thirty thousand neighbouring merchants had been withholding their customs duties. With customary speed and efficiency my men and I arranged a mass impaling. It was a sight to behold and the woodcut atop this letter does it no justice.
The vote of no confidence led by Dan the Young came to nothing and, although I considered impalement for him, my anger counsellor pointed out the lack of spectacle and so I settled on a simple graveside beheading.
With regard to our foreign and overseas policies, I think that we achieved most our objectives. You may be familiar with the two Turkish emissaries who refused to take of their turbans in my presence? Well after a quick bit of work with a hammer and nails we gave them an excuse not to remove their headgear again.
Finally our intelligence reports of real and present danger in neighbouring Brasov fully justified our incursion into this town and the subsequent collateral damage suffered by St Bartholomew’s church. The insurgents occupying Brasov were apprehended and, you guessed it, impaled.
But enough of politics and the affairs of state. Although a recent convert from Orthodoxy to Catholicism, I am seeking beatification because of my unerring struggle with the Turks. My brother Vlad the monk thinks I am in with a chance but I will need to work on Frederick III to put in a good word with his holiness.
I would like to wish you all a healthy and honest 1461 and am sure I can count on your continued support to finally defeat our sworn enemy Sultan MehmedII.
Yours, Vlad Dracula

Vlad Dracula (Vlad the Impaler) –Historical notes

Vlad Dracula (Vlad the Impaler) –Historical notes

Vlad was brought up by the Turks and eventually took the throne after his father, Vlad Dracul’s, murder. He reduced the population of a small country by around 100,000 as a result of his cruel behaviour. The Turks defeated him in 1461 and his wife threw herself off their castle rather than be taken prisoner. He was held in captivity in Hungary and briefly resumed the throne in 1468. He was never called “the Impaler” during his lifetime. His abiding legacy is the countless Dracula stories (pun intended).

Queen Victoria Christmas 1860

Osborne House,
Isle of Wight
Christmas 1860
Dearest
I cannot believe another year has just flown by; time goes so quickly as one gets older and wiser. I have been indulgent with myself recently and engaged some more secretaries to help with my vast amount of correspondence. Of course, more staff means more Christmas presents, but they are all so touching in their thanks when receiving their seasonal mince pie.
Albert is still wonderfully handsome and considerate in the amount of good healthy exercise he forces me to take. I really cannot imagine life without him, he is all to me.
My children continue to try hard to please me. In July I was supposed to visit Canada but my nerves were too stressed to endure such a trip and Palmerston suggested we send Bertie in my place. Most surprisingly he seems to have behaved impeccably and President Buchanan wrote us a glowing letter. Bertie is soon to go to Cambridge University. Alas, I fear his dissolute habits and lack of brain will mean only an Honorary Degree, but the people will feel it is well earned.
Our eldest daughter, Victoria, has settled well into her new job as Crown Princess of Prussia. It is provoking that she has to live so far away, but her Papa and I send her frequent letters instructing her on how to anglicise the natives and in all things to follow our excellent British pattern. She was truly horrified at first to find that there was no indoor sanitation in any of the dear Emperor's palaces. We, as you know, have had an en suite WC for some time and I believe even the aristocracy are coming round to the idea. I do so hope she will be able to persuade dear Fritz to have one fitted before I next visit.
Her little boy Willy, our eldest grandchild, is a darling little fellow. He is passionately fond of guns and his favourite game is “Battleships”. May he grow up to become a good Christian Soldier with the right attitudes, and in his turn cement the friendship between our two countries.
The younger children are all progressing well, Alice is sweet and helpful and Arthur so loving. Fortunately I rarely see the next four as quite excellent nurses and tutors attend to them. You will understand that, as a working mother, I simply do not have the time. Baby Beatrice is very advanced for her age and keeps everyone amused.
As I think I mentioned last year, we are going ahead with an extension to our much-admired holiday home here at Osborne. It really is only exceeded in comfort and elegance by our beloved Balmoral, where we keep our “braw hieland laddies” as the Scots so quaintly call our outdoor servants. We spent our late summer/autumn holiday there again as the deer were desperate for my darling Albert to cull them. The piles of carcasses and pools of blood on the front lawn exceeded everything, truly magnificent. I enclose a picture of the children admiring them. Alfred is not on it as he had been disobedient and was not allowed treats that day.
We shall be together for meals at Christmas, but in a Christian effort to feel at one with every class of my people, are cutting the number of courses at our festive dinner to only twenty-five.
Dearest Grandmamma will not be with us this year, as I fear her health does not allow her to travel, but I am sure she will be thinking of us and raising a glass of my very own sloe gin. I kindly sent her several bottles, as my kitchen maids like to be kept busy pricking the hundreds of sloes necessary for my cook to make it.
I shall look forward to receiving your good wishes and felicitations, so well deserved by me and mine.
Your Old Friend, Queen and perhaps one day Empress!



Victoria

Queen Victoria 1860 Historical Notes

Queen Victoria – Historical notes

Albert passed away from typhoid fever the following year. Willy became Kaiser Wilhelm and went on to start the First World War. Bertie’s pals persuaded the actress Nellie Clifton to get into Bertie's bed with him. Albert admonished him at Cambridge and the affair scandalised Victorian society.
Queen Victoria was the longest reigning British monarch who celebrated her Diamond Jubilee in 1897. She had nine children who married into most of Europe’s other Royal families After Albert’s death she always wore black. She died in 1901.

Dick Turpin Christmas 1738

Richard Turpin Esq.,
No Fixed Abode,
Great North Road
England
December 1738

“Stand and deliver! Your money or your Life?”
Dearest Gentlefolk,
Please forgive the rather melodramatic demand but I have found that this request, accompanied by a pistol shot, is more effective than “Excuse me, but if it is possible, might I have some of your valuables?”
I also crave your indulgence for leaving my Christmas “round robin” for you to read. I am sure you will understand that, due to the nature of my profession, I have a rather restricted circle of friends and acquaintances but possess the same needs as all mortals to share both the high spots and the trials and tribulations of the past year.
The cold January weather proved to be a mixed blessing. The snow covered land, clear skies and moonlight ensured that I was easily seen by the driver (it is so embarrassing on a cloudy night when they drive straight past you) and also provided a heightened sense of theatre with my silhouette larger than life projected behind me. The downside was that it played havoc with my rheumatics waiting for the inevitably late mail coach. Why oh why can’t they learn from the Swiss who, I hear, run their coaching like clockwork?
The March thaw and heavy rains curtailed my ability to make a fast getaway and so my takings were significantly down. Bess also developed a very nasty cold from the damp vapours. I am pleased to report that the veterinarian’s expectorant soon had her back to her old self and would like to apologise to the dear lady on whom she sneezed – ‘tis a small blessing that at least wigs are back in fashion.
Wasn’t May the most delightful month with the darling little buds in the hedgerows and scent of spring blossom in the air?
On my journey North I stopped in Stamford, a charming iron stone market town, but with rather a lot of churches for one such as I who tends not to follow many of the Lord’s commandments. The George Inn provides a welcome respite from the road for weary travellers and some easy pickings for yours truly. Room service I call it.
They have increased the price on my head to one hundred guineas, which is quite satisfying, but the likeness that adorns the poster is rather less flattering.
This summer, a good lady friend bought me a dog, which is a mastiff - bull terrier cross, a remarkably ugly brute who looks like one of the hounds of hell. I fashioned him a spiked collar and have named him “Killer”. He is invaluable in my line of work but does have a nasty tendency to go after children to the point where those about are suggesting a dangerous dogs law. Quite amusing when I consider my current legal position! The other day a Marchioness I was holding up suggested my dog was very “Essex” which considering my Essex gang roots I took as a complement.
Sometimes the hues of this fair land make me feel almost poetic, the autumn mists, a season of mellow fruitfulness and also one where the harvest has been gathered and the fleeces sold and thus good for business.
Continuing northwards, in Lincolnshire I had a close shave after being arrested in Long Sutton. They told me I had been rustling - well I do like to wear silk clothing. A quick escape to Yorkshire where I have become one of the gentry. Amongst other things we like to ride to hounds. A pursuit that I am sure will one day attract the same attention of those nannies who so despise my dog “killer”.
Well I must away as the stagecoach will be along soon.
May I take this opportunity to wish you a very merry Michaelmass and, of course, an incredibly prosperous New Year
Yours

John Palmer, or Dick Turpin if you prefer

Dick Turpin – Historical notes

Dick Turpin – Historical notes

Dick was little more than a common thief from Essex who mostly robbed people in the home counties until in the nineteenth century he was romanticised as a highwayman who rode non stop from London to York. In 1739 he was taken into custody in Yorkshire (no one could understand where his money came from). He wrote to his brother who was too mean to pay the postage and then, by coincidence, a former teacher of his recognised his handwriting. He was executed at York racecourse for the murder of Morris a gamekeeper from Epping Forest

Mr Toad 2005

Mr. Toad,
Toad Hall
Christmas 2005
The time for my annual letter seems to have come round so quickly this year, but being my usual cheerful and efficient self, here is the latest Xmas Toad Epistle. I know you all wait for my letters and I've got lots to tell you about the doings of yours Truly.
In January I set off in the new Bentley (just like H.M.'s but a much prettier colour) to find some sun and in no time at all was in Southern Spain, a perfect winter bolthole for toads. Many of my old friends live there permanently now; you know the ones I met in that awful gaol all those years ago. We had a grand reunion with lots of full English and buckets of sangria.
I don't think any of them would willingly return but, unfortunately after a misunderstanding with the local rozzers, I found it necessary to do so a bit PDQ. They shouldn't allow prize-fighting bulls out all over the countryside while I am trying out a new 4-wheel drive loaned to me by an old mate. It was quite badly damaged, but he wasn't bothered when he a saw the steaks' for the barbecue.
When I got back the weather was atrocious as usual, so I took a trip to the Boat Show and bought one of the new power speedboats. I took it for a trial spin on the dear old river to visit my local chums, Rat and Mole, now sharing digs to eke out their pensions. Some officious blighters have put up notices all along the banks 'Keep your Speed Down! Mind Your Wash!' My laundry-maid does that, so I ignored them and turned with a flourish right outside the Rat's house. He and Moley were baling furiously and my welcome was decidedly frosty as they dragged carpets etc out to dry. Poor old Rat, he will live too near the water's edge.
I soon cheered them up but I don't know how much longer they will stay there. Some foreigners have appropriated several of the properties, dark furred asylum seekers the Rat says. I think he said they were mostly Minks driven out by the Animal Liberation Front and put up by the government. Even the ducks are pretty put out about it. I advised Rat to ask Badger what to do, but apparently the Weasels who took over the Wild Wood some seven years ago served HIM with a Compulsory Purchase Order. They plan an extension to their latest airport and rumour has it that Badger has emigrated to enjoy a more civilised environment.
I returned home a bit down, unusual for me, but as you know I have always been a forward thinker and like everyone to be happy. First of all, I sent a very large donation to the Weasels as I don't want them casting envious eyes at Toad Hall so conveniently close to London, nor do I want gypsies on my doorstep - I had enough of them and their caravans in my youth.
Next I applied for provisional planning permission to build affordable homes for essential workers on that awful barren bit of my estate alongside the motorway. That will drag on a bit and give me time to contact my developer friends to come to an arrangement to actually build large executive homes, so much sought after and more profitable.
OH! I am the cleverest Toad
That all of you have knowed.
Though places change and people too,
I just go on to pastures new.
Do come and join me on that road
And we shall all be a la mode!
No I mean it, please drop in whenever you're in the neighbourhood, or out boating (slowly!) on the river. I've already invited Rat and Mole to be permanent houseguests and if and when we track down Badger shall invite him too. We can go back to being Merrie England, now there's another good idea a medieval theme park with the fastest rides in the world!
See you soon I hope,

Toad

Mr Toad 2005 Historical note

Mr Toad – notes

Mr Toad is the estate owner from Kenneth Grahame’s book “Wind in the Willows”. The 2005 letter brings his antics up to date.

Stalin – Historical notes

Stalin – Historical notes
Historians vary as to Stalin’s preparedness for war. The pact with Germany certainly bought time to move the heavy industry east of the Urals. Germany invaded Russia in 1941. WW2 is still remembered in Russia with Victory day parades. His daughter went on to marry several times, mostly to people Stalin considered unsuitable. His son died in German captivity with stories that Josef had disowned him for being captured. Over the course of his dictatorship Stalin is estimated to have cost Russia over 35 million lives. He died in 1953.

Josef Vissarionovich Stalin 1940

Kremlin
Red Square
Mockba 1
CCCP

December 1940
Happy New Year Comrade,
“Start at the beginning and finish at the end”. Not as complex as some of Vladimir Illyich’s didactics perhaps, but an appropriate maxim for this vehicle of communication.
If I had thought that last year (The 18th Congress of the party “The greatest genius of humanity, teacher and ‘vozhd’, who leads us towards communism, our very own Stalin”, my 60th birthday with both the Order of Lenin and the Hero of Socialist labour) was impossible to follow, I would, uncharacteristically, have been wrong.
You must have seen Time Magazine from January where I was named their Man of the Year 1939! “ World shattering” it said, perhaps they are premonitive.
Svetlana, my little sparrow, was fourteen in February and we had a party out at the Dacha in Kuntsevo. She really is a chip off the old block and issued me with lots of orders for the day signing them Svetlana Stalina (the boss). She invited all of the gang -Lev, Vyacheslav, Nikita, Lazar, et al. How they like to spoil her, they must have misheard and thought her presents could soften steel.
March saw a conclusion to the last four months of unpleasantness with our Finnish neighbours when they finally conceded that maybe the fence had been in the wrong place between our properties. They even gave us Karelia as a goodwill gesture. Not our most successful winter outing, which makes me all the happier about the détente with our new, found German friends.
Also in March, Lavrenty was very busy in Poland, Ukraine and Belarus and told us that he has found over 20,000 nationalist and counterrevolutionary activists. He can be very untrusting and insisted we all sign some order or other freeing up their camp space. I have a nasty feeling this may come back to haunt us.
I heard that Mikhail Afanasievich Bulgakov died and was buried in Novodevichy cemetery. I didn’t go to the funeral, as I had never bothered to answer his request to emigrate. I thought “The White Guard” was one of the best Russian plays of all time and, although I could never admit it in public, some of the stuff we banned really was quite funny.
On a brighter note, the deal Molotov struck meant we could annex Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania and get whole tracts of Romania Vis a Vis Northern Bucovina and Bessarabia, or Moldova if you prefer. I may have to rethink my taste for Kindzmarauli but suspect the collectivisation of their agriculture will not sweeten their red wine too much. Another spin off from this Ribbentrop pact is that I have been forced to stop screening Eisenstein’s Alexander Nevsky, which is such stirring stuff, at least for the time being. As part of educating the proletariat this year’s hot release is the third part of the Gorky Trilogy “My Universities” quite well done by Donskoi but hardly going to inspire major patriotic zeal.
The International labour May Day parade in Red Square from atop the Lenin’s mausoleum witnessed the prototypes of the Petlyakov VI 100 bomber, T34 tank and Yak1 fighter plane. I keep wondering if they are a waste of money now that Germany is at war with France and England. By the way, did I tell you my son Vasily has been promoted to Captain in the air force and at only twenty years old?
June saw my work on “work” reach conclusion with the Decree of the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet that not only got us back to a seven-day week and eight-hour days, but also got rid of the mandatory dismissal for absenteeism. Too many saboteurs and dissidents have been using this clause as an escape to more bourgeois employment. They must think I was born yesterday or that my name is Stari (old) not Stalin.
August finally saw us rid of Lev Davidovitch, or Judas Trotsky as I prefer to call him, when he was murdered in Mexico with an Alpine ice axe - slightly ironic when you consider their climate compared to ours. He was still waiting for the revolution in the West while we are busy building Socialism in our country.
I see Eugene Lyons finally published his book about me “Stalin: Czar of all the Russias“. Although much of what he said is charming I am unhappy with the title and amazed at how simple Americans are. He just repeated everything I told him “ No one man or group of men can dictate. Decisions are made by the party….”. Khrushchev told me a good one - I should have told him “Did you know they have taken the word gullible out of Webster’s dictionary?” "Omigod" he would have replied, “Have they really?”
September - the Germans were bombing London and have signed a deal with the Japanese and Italians. Molotov has a mole in Tokyo who tipped us off about the latter and in the end I think we acted surprised enough. I asked Molotov to tell Herr Hitler that with our agreement we expect to know in advance of such manoeuvrings when next they meet.
November - The 23rd anniversary of the Great October Socialist Revolution
Molotov was asked to go to Berlin in November to placate them over Bessarabia - Adolf was worried that we got a bit too close to the black stuff in Romania. He was trying to sort things when Mr Churchill’s RAF dropped a couple of bombs close enough that they had to use an air raid shelter! Asked our man in London to convey our serious displeasure to HMG at such a hostile act
Now the year is drawing to a close I plan to go to the new Tchaikovsky hall to hear The Moscow State Academic Philharmonic as Schostakovich has finally finished his 7th symphony.
I read the transcript of Roosevelt’s Christmas address “The Nazi masters of Germany have made it clear that they intend not only to dominate all life and thought in their own country, but also to enslave the whole of Europe, and then to use the resources of Europe to dominate the rest of the world.” How he must wish he had a pact like ours.

Josef Vissarionovich Stalin

Commander E J Smith ( RMS Titanic) 1911

Commander Edward John Smith R.D., R.N.R.
Woodhead
Winn Road
Portswood
Southampton
Hampshire
15th December 1911

Dear

It would seem that my interview with the New York Times some four years ago might have been premature. “When anyone asks me how I can best describe my experience in nearly forty years at sea, I merely say uneventful.”

Our daughter Mel (Helen) is quite grown up and having turned twenty-one last year she considers herself to be quite independent. Despite my warnings against taking up with Navy men she has shown herself to be quite determined to marry John Gilbertson of the Bibby line. He seems to be a sound chap and I am told that he will get command of his own ship soon, which would make him the youngest Captain of the merchant marine. When I think back that it took me twenty years from leaving Hanley to my first command of the Celtic in 1887, I wonder if ship’s Captains are not becoming more like Policemen who seem to me to be younger every year.

J.P.Morgan’s money is being well spent with Messr’s Harland and Wolff and in May we were invited to Belfast to see the launch of White Star’s second leviathan which was christened Titanic, but more of her later.

We celebrated Sarah’s fiftieth birthday on board the RMS Olympic, which I was privileged to command on her maiden voyage. She is the first of Ismay and Perrie’s big three with the Titanic being fitted out as I write and the Gigantic whose keel has been laid. We are sure we can beat those Cunarders with three such magnificent vessels. The voyage went splendidly and we averaged 21.7 knots. Not enough to get the Blue Ribband back but at least crossing the Atlantic in a superior style to the Lucitania.

Now, as you know, I am not a superstitious man but, on docking in New York, the backwash from the starboard propeller caught one of the tugs and dragged her under the stern. We were all relieved when she managed to break free and reach an adjoining pier. A second incident happened in September on the Olympic’s fifth crossing. We were sailing down the Spithead channel en route to Cherbourg when a similar thing happened. HMS Hawke appeared out of nowhere and was sucked in by the propellers wash leaving them with a badly damaged bow and us with a small gash and spoiled propeller. Although on both occasions the ship was under the direction of the harbourmasters it has been quite polarising with many saying that she is unsinkable and the doubters telling me accidents come in threes - poppycock

You may have seen the article in the papers in July which said that Captain Haddock would replace me as Commodore and that BJ or Henry would get the Titanic? Well, John Bruce and I recently shared an enjoyable dinner at his club in which the conversation ranged far and wide but when we compared our families origins we found huge similarities between their humble beginnings in Maryport and my own father’s move from potter to shopkeeper. He was quite amused when I told him of the family strictures to pay the three shillings a month to Etruria school so that I might better myself. The upshot of it all is, that I will not be retiring this month as had been widely suggested but will in fact captain the Titanic on her maiden voyage next year.

With this little cat out of the bag may Eleanor, Mel and I wish you a prosperous and healthy 1912 and I would like to take this opportunity to personally invite you to join us on another triumphant first voyage if you are free around April?

Yours
Ted, Sarah and Mel

Captain E J Smith – Historical notes

Captain E J Smith – Historical notes

Captain Smith was born in Stoke on Trent in 1850 and joined the merchant navy rising to the rank of Commmodore of the White Star Line. He went down with the Titanic on her maiden voyage in April 1912.
The American enquiry determined that it was Captain Smith’s fault for not slowing down. There are many alternative views including faulty rivets, Bruce Ismay’s desire for a crossing within six days and the ships designer for not insisting the watertight compartments went from bottom to top. Finally both the British and American enquiries censured Captain Lord of the Californian for ignoring the signal rockets and for having the radio turned off.The fascination with Titanic has continued for almost a century with the wreck having been located in 1985 and artefacts later retrieved. There have been several films and TV dramas culminating with the somewhat improbable icy water swimming scenes in the sinking boat in the 1997 version.

Pat Nixon (wife of Richard) 1972

The White House1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NWWashington, DC 20500

December 1972

Dear

What a roller coaster year 1972 has turned out to be! “To boldly go where no man has gone before” as they say on Star Trek, which reminds me of a joke Dick told me. “How many ears has Captain James T. Kirk got?” “Three – his left ear, his right ear and his final frontier,” he is such a character.
This year saw two further successful Apollo missions 17 and 18 the latter returning just in time for Christmas. In January Dicky signed up for a new way forwards the Space Shuttle just ahead of his fifty-ninth birthday. In future the NASA billions will go towards a re-usable spacecraft so it may well be that Apollo 18 will be the last of our lunar adventures.
In matters foreign we have a new policy with Leonid Brezhnev called “Détente”. Henry explained to me that the idea is: though we may never be really close friends, we can learn to get along without nuking the hell out of each other. The great news is that in May I got to visit all the sights of Moscow and Leningrad while Richard was busy signing the SALT 1 treaty to limit weapons. They also liked his idea of a shuttle and so we may well end up with a space station just like the one in “2001 – A space Odyssey”, although with what we are spending I hope it doesn’t take until then.
February and China where we visited the Forbidden City, though why it is called that if they let us go there I cannot imagine. Dick and Henry were busy with Mao –“The week that changed the world” is how he described it later. I too had a full schedule visiting communes, schools, factories and hospitals (as well as the fun things like the great wall) and many of the press accompanied lil ol me! Unfortunately it meant being away for Tricia’s birthday but she is a big girl now - she was 26 and has now been married for over one whole year.
Her anniversary in June took us right back to the rose garden where she and Edward looked so lovely together. The trough of our roller coaster year was also in June when some creeps (no real CREEPS – committee to re-elect the president) broke into the Democrat offices in the Watergate building. Dickie kept going on that if J. Edgar Hoover were still in charge instead of dead the whole thing would already have been covered up. Richard says he is not worried, but having been married to him for thirty-two years he should know that I really am the better poker player. I do hope this was not a gamble too far.
Julie’s birthday in July and that dreadful musical “Hair” with the naked hippies we both despise closed on Broadway. Perhaps the message of the silent, moral majority is getting through? Certainly Dick has been talking of “peace with honour” and there have been fewer anti-Vietnam demonstrations this year. He does still sometimes betray his Quaker roots with the odd act of ultra violence and in December he got the USAF to carpet bomb Hanoi, assuring me that it will get “Charlie” back to the negotiating table. On the up side we are down to only thirty thousand or so troops left there.
September saw a lot of preparations for the upcoming elections and Bobby Fischer beat Boris Spassky to become the first American chess champion. We were rather more disappointed by the USSR’s fifty gold medals compared to our 33 in the Olympics but I felt the whole event was spoiled by those Arab terrorists –in future is anywhere in the world going to be safe from such fanatics?
Finally, another high with the great news in November of a landslide re-election. “I told you not to worry,” said Dick pulling one of his tricky faces.
So, looking forward to another four years here in Washington. With best wishes for Christmas and the New Year,




Pat Nixon (First lady)

Pat (wife of Richard) Nixon historical notes

Pat Nixon – Historical notes

Richard Nixon was a shrewd lawyer who is alleged to have left the Navy at the end of WW2 with $10,000 in winnings from poker. He was deeply conservative and hated the anti war hippies. He was instrumental in building new relationships with both Russia and China and effectively ended the war in Vietnam. He tried to cover up the Watergate break in but all of his conversations were recorded in the White House. Before he resigned in 1974 he famously said “I am not a crook” foreseeing the immunity from prosecution Gerald Ford would grant him. Pat Nixon died in 1993 one year before her husband

Tsar Nicholas II 1916

Mogilev, Russia
Christmas 1916

Dear ,
How time flies! Last Christmas saw me at home in our beloved Alexander Palace at Tsarskoe Selo with my dearest wifie Alex, or “Sunny” as I like to call her, and our five little ones- Olga, Tatiana, Maria, Anastasia and Alexis, gathered round the Christmas tree. The pile of presents underneath was somewhat smaller than normal owing to Cousin Willy not being his usual generous self. I cannot fathom why he now considers us, and Cousin Georgie in England, to be his enemies. Dear Grandmamma would be exceedingly annoyed at his less than peaceful stance towards everything not German. I suppose the Austrians can just about be counted on his side together with other ragtag and bobtail central European states.
This last year has been very busy, leaving me with little time for my favourite relaxations smoking, dominoes etc.
Fortunately spring came early and I was able to get out in the garden for some much needed fresh air and exercise, digging, sawing logs, etc. My darling Sunny was much happier lying in her beautiful mauve boudoir telling the government what to do and giving her usual good advice to all and sundry. She received so much help in her good works from her spiritual advisor, good friend and mentor, Grigori Rasputin. They were constantly closeted together and in early Summer Grigori told Sunny that, in spite of optimistic reports from the various Grand Dukes and Generals at the front, the army was suffering heavy casualties. I do not understand this as we were assured that 500 of our sturdy peasants armed with a rifle and two bullets to every fiftieth man, and the rest with stout sticks, could easily overcome one German machine gunner. The problem apparently arose when an officer shouted 'fire' and half of them ran for buckets of water and the others started rubbing the sticks together. He also told her that he had seen a wonderful vision in which essential food supplies got through to the troops (cabbage soup, etc.) I told my army friends this at dinner and one of them muttered something about Grigori seeing pigs flying but I'm sure he never mentioned pork in the vision.
However, all the foregoing gave Sunny, and Grigori, a very good idea - who better to inspire confidence and gets things moving than the Tsar, and before my feet could touch the ground I was on my way here to be actual, as well as acting, commander in chief.
What is so touching is the men's faith in me, they call me their 'Little Father' with such simplicity and loyalty. When this dreadful war is over I am sure they will return to their humble homes and tell everyone of the Tsar's kindness and humanity.
We had to forego our usual summer seaside holiday at our little palace in the Crimea owing to many petty annoyances, such as that fool, Witte, the Prime Minister or something (Sunny would know she is so good at politics) being assassinated. The four girls so loved digging sandcastles and now the eldest is 20, they were getting quite elaborate. Even Royalty has to take its share of hardship and set a good example.
You may already have heard, the greatest possible misfortune happened only last month. Grigori, our Friend, disappeared. He was later found drowned, shot and poisoned. We were devastated when the police came to the conclusion that it must be murder.
We cannot understand who might have wanted this saint among men out of the way. He had been making some odd remarks, saying that if anything happened to him, our dynasty could not survive, as if something founded by the great Peter could just be snuffed out because a peasant (albeit a very holy one) was not here to advise us.
With Sunny's sure hand guiding the ship of state and my leadership and inspiration for our gallant army what could possibly go wrong?
And now, a little secret before I wish you all a very happy 1917, Cousin Georgie is making me an English Field Marshall! I always said he had a nose for talent.
Happy Christmas


Tsar Nicolas II

Tsar Nicholas II – Historical Notes

Tsar Nicholas II – Historical Notes
Nicholas was a simple soul who was never cut out to be an autocrat. He loved his wife Alexandra dearly but they only had one son, Alexei, who was a haemophiliac. Rasputin appeared to be able to alleviate Alexei’s symptoms and was soon a part of their lives. Alexandra’s German origin was not lost on the Russian people when they went to war against cousin Willy. In 1917 Rasputin’s prediction came true with the Russian revolution and Nicholas requests to his cousin in George for asylum in Great Britain fell on deaf ears. The entire Royal family were executed at Ekaterinburg in 1918

Napoleon 1812

From the Emperor Napoleon I
Paris Christmas 1812
Now I've just about thawed out, I shall follow my usual custom and send you this note to wish you all a very Joyeux Noel, coupled with good wishes for a successful and prosperous New Year, which I need as much as any of you.
What a year 1812 has been! I thought once my son and heir was born in March 1811 and most of Europe was at my feet, (those shopkeepers, the English are even frightening their children by saying “Boney will get you!”), that this year would be plain sailing. After all, I am the most successful warrior Emperor since the great Caesar and victory is my byword.
January, however, proved a bit of a bummer as that effete fop, Wellesley declared that he had won the battle of Ciudad Rodrigo. I personally thought it a bit touch and go, but was becoming very bored with chasing all over Spain, the heat, the flies, the FOOD! Fresh fields and pastures new were calling, preferably somewhere with no English and a bit cooler. The Czar and his band of serfs were really becoming a nuisance, forming anti-French alliances all over the place, and a lesson was called for. I planned to invade his wretched country and what an army I assembled! headed by myself and my most experienced Generals, Ney, etc. Naturally I imagined that my old friend and comrade in arms, Count Bernadotte, would rush to be my ally. But no, his head is so swollen since he was appointed King of Sweden that he decided to go and annoy the harmless Danes by annexing Norway. I also had hopes of the Turks, always good for a barney, but the Czar got there first.
In spite of this, I collected 450,000 men, half French, the rest a mixture of Bavarians, Austrians, Swiss, (honestly!) and some others. My maxim about “an army marching on its stomach” I rather ignored, as the country was big enough to live off. Essential supplies were not ignored though, plenty of boots in reserve (its a long, long way to Russia) and we even managed to get greatcoats made from Yorkshire woollen cloth (what did I say about shopkeepers?). Even I knew it could be cold on the Steppes, Corsica can be very parky in the winter and I come from a long line of Quarter Blokes, or bandits, as they are known in the mountains.
It took ages to even get there, but we finally crossed the border on the 24th of June and looked forward to great battles and an easy victory. But quelle surprise! The Russians kept disappearing and taking their food and livestock with them. What cowards, we didn't find them until we got to a place called Borodino, where at last we had a good scrap and only lost 40,000 men. They lost about the same and in their usual fashion promptly disappeared towards Moscow.
“Ho, Ho” I thought, capture the capital and you have the Country, but when we finally trailed in they had burned it to the ground and gone again. At least it was warm in the ashes as the weather had turned very cold for October, and food was very sparse. The climate was so awful that after a confab with my generals it was decided that a retreat was better than freezing to death in this benighted place and we took a slightly different route home, hoping to come across more grub. Unfortunately, the horses and draught oxen did not agree with our choice and dropped in their thousands, which at least solved the problem of rations. Even the greatcoats seemed to lose their buttons. I know, I should have had them made in the usual brass but we had to economise somewhere, and the tin used disintegrated in the cold. Well, that’s what the troops said, I think the more parsimonious among them cut them off to put in charity collecting boxes when they got home, the French are a frugal race.
Being a man of action I could not be expected to hang about, so dashed for home with the remaining healthy horses and most of my entourage, brains being harder to come by than brawn. Good old Marshall Ney stayed behind to gee-up the army and did a very fine job though he did lose some 300,000 or so.
The Russians now say they escaped with the help of “General Winter”, very true as their own certainly lacked the right spirit for a good old fight. At least the English do enjoy a set piece battle, they are almost civilised in that respect. I shall certainly arrange a return match with them when I've had time to recoup and regroup, in Summer I think, just give me a couple of years.
And now for a final bit of advice from a Master. NEVER fight on Russian soil; especially if winter is coming on, it really is fit only for Russians. This will be noted and heeded I trust by future generations of would be generals.
Well, that’s it for another year, things can only get better.
Vive la France!
Vive L'Empereur!
Yours etc.


(Boney indeed! I'll teach 'em)

Napoleon – Historical notes

Napoleon – Historical notes

1812 was the beginning of the end, rather than the overture, for Napoleon. He met his Waterloo in 1815.
Born in 1769 on Corsica, from an early age Napoleon wanted to be a soldier. After the French revolution Napoleon staged a coup to take power in 1799. He became Emperor in 1804. The great love of his life was Josephine and they married in 1796. They divorced in 1809 and she died of diphtheria in 1814. A great General, after the Peninsular war he invaded Russia and was eventually deposed in 1814 and exiled to Elba. In 1815 he escaped and once again raised an army only to be defeated by Wellington in 1815. He was sent to St. Helena where he dictated his memoirs and died in 1821. His last words were allegedly: “France, the Army, Josephine”

Nikita Kruschev 1963

Moscow1
USSR

December 1963


Snovim Godom Tavarich
Unfortunately, I began this year in low spirits as the events in Cuba last autumn were still causing some in the corridors of the Kremlin to say that I had lost my touch. My reforms of the party and agriculture probably also gave them cause for concern. To improve my mood I wrote a long letter to Fidel who agreed in turn to visit us in April, but more of that later.
I am still ambivalent about much of what is called “art” these days and, despite my approval for “One day in the life of Ivan Denisovitch”, I found myself getting into an argument and haranguing the so called intelligentsia again in March. What do they know of art from their position in the bottom of a toilet bowl?
Fidel arrived ten days after my 69th birthday on the twenty fifth of April and spent six weeks with us. As well as inspecting all kinds of military installations he was atop the mausoleum for the May Day parade. We decided to award him the “Hero of the Soviet Union” but Leonid pinned it on in the wrong place so I had to re do it myself – typical of things around here. Before he left I told him “If we were cowards why did we deploy missiles in Cuba?” and I think he left satisfied that we saved his small Island from a US invasion.
In June, around the tenth anniversary of arresting Beria, we had a family photograph taken, which I have enclosed. My daughter Rada and her husband Aleksei Adhzubei’s three boys are growing up so fast – they are the three in the centre and little Nikita Kruschev (Sergei and Galina’s son) is the one on the right.
Following President Kennedy’s speech in which he praised our people’s many achievements we suggested an arms control agreement, which was concluded in July. So no more air, underwater or space H-bomb tests, (I believe my work underground for the Vohzd building the Moscow metro maybe useful after all). I had hoped John would come himself but he sent Rusk who was not at all keen on a further non-aggression pact. Mao and his men were pretty pissed off about the agreement, as they obviously want nuclear weapons of their own. Deng Xiaoping and Kang Seng were particularly vindictive and to show my displeasure I told Nina Petrovna to take them off our New Year card list.
Also this summer I ordered some big increases in the use of fertilisers. I still recall my trip to Iowa in ‘ 59and Roswell Garst’s farm. How differently they use technology to improve yields. Unfortunately the drought in August and September decreased the harvest even further in the virgin lands- I fear I will have to get more involved in matters agrarian again.
September marked the tenth anniversary of being made first secretary and we celebrated at our place near the Lenin hills with Leonid Brezhnev, Yuri Andropov, Sergo Mikoyan and Mikhail Suslov. It is always good to have your friends around you on these occasions.
I had always liked Kennedy as he was a man one could do business with; also his rival for the next election Barry Goldwater was a reactionary troublemaker. You can imagine my horror when the recently installed hot line rang to inform me of his assassination on November 22nd. I admit I wept and wrote to Jackie to express my personal sorrow along with our official letter of condolence. Naturally we also quickly ascertained that Lee Harvey Oswald was not one of ours despite his three years in Russia.
The year ended with yet another interminable internal review of Sino-soviet relations. I told them “It is up to you to decide whether I stay in post or not” and received a ringing endorsement of my premiership and policies. I think I have a few more years in me to move towards our goal of true communism by the 1980’s
Best wishes for the New Year

Nikita Sergeivich Khrushchev

Khrushchev – Historical notes

Nikita Krushchev was born in 1894 and was brought up in the Ukraine. He fought in the red army in 1918 and after Stalin’s death he triumphed over Beria and came to power in 1953. He denounced Stalin and the cult of personality in 1956 but there is much speculation as to how he survived the purges and how complicit he may have been in them. He liked to joke and to allow people to think he was stupid and certainly a lot of his politics was bluff and bravado. His handling of the Cuban missile crisis was seen as a loss of face for the USSR. He had a hands on approach and was always dabbling, particularly in agriculture. He was deposed by Leonid Brezhnev in 1964 and died in 1971. Unlike most leaders he was not buried in the Kremlin walls but in the Novodevichy convent. The true communist system was never built according to Marx and Lenin’s teachings and eventually collapsed in1989

Jackie Kennedy – Historical notes

Jackie Kennedy – Historical notes

Jacqueline Lee Bouvier was born in 1929 and was the debutante of the year in 1947. She remained a style icon throughout her life. John Fitzgerald was assassinated in Dallas Texas in 1963. The Vietnam War escalated and lasted more than another ten years. John Junior’s aeroplane disappeared off the radar near Martha’s Vineyard in 1999. In 1968 Jackie Kennedy married the multi-millionaire Aristotle Onassis who died in 1975. Jackie Onassis died of cancer in 1994 and was laid to rest with her first husband in Arlington cemetery. Until the untimely death of Princess Diana, JFK and Marilyn Monroe were at the top of the table for conspiracy theories.

Jacqueline Lee Bouvier Kennedy 1962

December 1962

Dear ,
Firstly let me thank you for your generous donation towards the refurbishment of the White House, you will be pleased to hear that the blue room is nearing completion and, despite the doubts so heinously expressed by Maxine Cheshire in Newsweek, it will of course remain blue.
You will have seen January's Time magazine where Jack was named man of the year 1961. Whilst I try to distance myself from politics I am sure that this accolade was for his affairs of state and not for his choice of fabric to re-upholster the Louis Quinze dining chairs.
I know you will have enjoyed watching, as much as I loved making, the Valentines Day broadcast of “A tour of the White House with Mrs. John F. Kennedy”. It was simply marvellous to be able to show our country what their first lady, with your bountiful help, has been able to achieve. I still vividly remember how appalled I was when Mamie Eisenhower first showed me around nearly two years ago. I should have remembered from the Bouvier’s property business, always send the sanitation department in first when taking over property from the over 60’s as they do neglect the cleaning and decorating and are prone to little “accidents”.
Also in February I am sure we all remember that gallant hero John Glenn returning from America’s first space orbit. Jack was so proud of our Nation and immediately committed that “we will go to the moon not because it is easy”. He really can be the master of the obvious.
In March we toured India and Pakistan. On the way his holiness Pope John XXIII granted us an audience. John Fitzgerald with his religious background was visibly moved by the pontiff’s clean habits.
May, and Jack’s birthday which was slightly marred when Miss Monroe popped in, nearly popped out more like, and sang “happy birthday Mr President“. I do believe she may have been slightly tipsy - “Gin was mother’s milk to her” as Alan Jay Lerner wrote in My Fair Lady.
We spent a little time this summer in the Hamptons and Jack insisted on inviting Lyndon Baines and Claudia (I really can’t refer to her as Lady bird) Johnson for one weekend. Their humble Texan backgrounds and attire set them apart in Long Island. John and Lyndon spent a lot of time discussing Indo-China and it sounds like they are planning to bring our troops home from Vietnam. The dreadful news is the Johnsons want us to visit Texas next fall and “entre nous” I am dreading it.
July witnessed the launch of Telstar, plus my thirty-third birthday. Tish Baldbridge, who is my social secretary and etiquette guru, arranged everything and Pablo Casals came and played La sardana.
Bobby and Jack are such rogues that I never know what they are up to. I think Jack with his “ask not what your country can do for you but what you can do for your country” mentality is working too hard and I fear for his health again. He normally gets up at around seven and only finishes between eleven and midnight. In early August we never knew where he or Bobby was as they kept very odd hours. It was around this time that John Jr., Carolyn and I were watching the news when they announced that Marilyn Monroe had died of an apparent overdose. Given her last two pictures and Madison Square Garden singing debacle I cannot say I was too surprised.
This fall was taken up with the Cuban missile crisis. Nikita Khrushchev, who we met in Vienna last year, had been secretly building missile bases only ninety miles away from Florida. Bobby and John were very busy and it put a complete stop to our social calendar for over a fortnight. On a happier note, the Chippendale side tables came back from the restorer and look perfect against the wall opposite Jack’s desk in the oval office.
John junior was two and Carolyn five in November. John can walk and says a few words like “Daddy” and “lady“; I think he means first lady, which is so sweet. Like so many young boys he is obsessed with aeroplanes and flying.
Finally as 1962 draws to a close I would like to thank you again for helping me to restore the White House. Tish tells me that we have had a fifty percent rise in visitor numbers this year and cannot print enough guidebooks.
I wish you and your family a very happy Christmas and, particularly after the events in Berlin and Cuba, a peaceful 1963.
Yours,



Jacqueline Lee Bouvier, John Fitzgerald, Carolyn
and John Jr.

King John 1215

Windsor Castle, Christmas 1215

Dear ,

Firstly my sincere apologies for not having included an annual letter with your card last year. The invasion and subsequent truce with Louis took up so much of my energy that I confess I did not have the will to dictate it to my scribe. To make amends I shall cover both years in this epistle.
We are just about organised for the festivities and, despite the troubles over taxation this year, the annual Christmas feast will again comprise the usual one thousand five hundred chickens, twenty oxen and one hundred pigs. The peasantry, or freemen as I am now obliged to call them, and my Barons do appreciate a good blow out. I had feared that attendance would be down on last year but since I recaptured Rochester castle I find more and more RSVP’s every day.
It would be remiss of me in my account of this, my forty-eighth, year not to relate the events leading up to Runnymede and the signing there of the now famous Magna Carta. The seeds of my undoing were undoubtedly sown last year with my failed attempt to retake some of our Angevine lands and the burden of taxes this placed upon the kingdom. To make matters worse, in spite of my contrition, and acceptance of Stephen Langton as Archbishop of Canterbury, Pope Innocent III decided to suggest that my removal might not be such a bad thing. Given that last year we were allies in the struggle against France this was hard to accept, although I now realise that I was not the only head of state that he had excommunicated which eases my conscience over taking the church lands at that time.
Anyway, back to Runnymede, after much negotiation the rebel Robert Fitz Walter and his cohorts invited me to the meadow just outside Windsor. I acceded to their wishes and signed the wretched document which gives the Church the authority to appoint whomsoever it pleases, the freemen the right to a fair trial under the common law of the land and most difficult, the necessity to consult over the raising of additional taxes. I believe that, as I signed under duress, I may be able, with a little force, to escape the worst of these clauses. I, like most honest men, find it hard to deal with treachery. Perhaps my loyal subjects have forgotten how their beloved Richard squandered their money on wars? Perhaps too they forget how he spared the archer who launched the fateful bolt and how he named me as his heir and king of England? Come to think of it they flayed the bowman anyway, perhaps this is a clue to my Nobles honesty “my word is my bond” indeed, so much for self-regulation.
Isabella is still beautiful and has now born me five children with Henry growing up fast, he was eight this year. My “other” family the Fitz Roys are also doing well.
This year saw me venture North to the forests outside Sheffield where the hunting is excellent but the locals are prone to make up stories about a green man named Robin of Locksley who is supposed to take from the rich and give to the poor – what nonsense. Their stories not only vilify me but also my good friend the Sheriff of Nottingham whom I have instructed to treat any further story telling as high treason.
As this year draws to a close I would like to commend to you my habit of bathing regularly. Although it may cost a few extra pence I believe that cleanliness is next to godliness and in that vein I have a slogan for 1216 “Wash this year”

Your King, John

King John – historical notes

John lived under Richard’s shadow and frequently schemed against his brother, notably when Richard was held to ransom in Germany. John was excommunicated in 1209 but sought forgiveness and was even an ally of the pope against Louis of France. Even after he signed the Magna Carta he tried to renege on the agreement. He died in 1216 when there was a rebellion by the Barons in the North and Louis had landed in the south of England. Other notable features -he took a bath every three weeks, was rumoured to be illiterate and is alleged to have lost his treasure in the Wash in East Anglia. Robin Hood is a fictional character.

Robin Hood Historical notes

Robin Hood – a fictional character sometimes called Robin of Locksley is rumoured to have been more active in Yorkshire than Sherwood. Records show that someone of that name existed around two hundred years after King John. Robin is supposed to have been buried at Kirklees Priory not far from Leeds in West Yorkshire.

Robin Hood 1216

Kirklees Priory,
Yorkshire
Christmas 1216

Dear Friends and erstwhile fellow Freedom Fighters,
Yes, yes, I know in former times we were called outlaws, and considered by ordinary folk only marginally worse than in-laws, but whilst some of us are still left I like to keep in touch once a year. It helps in my feeble and respectable old age to remember past happier times when we were quick on the draw and gave that wretched Sheriff a run for his money (and he had plenty of that, all ill-gotten). Now my only use for the famous grey goose feather is as a quill.
You must, like me, have rejoiced mightily to hear of the demise of the tyrant upstart John Lackland, as his father called him, great Richard's puny brother. It was very satisfying to hear that, before his untimely death, he lost most of his treasure in the sea. I note also that his baggage of a wife, Isabella, couldn't wait to scarper back to Angouleme and the arms of her true love. She was a comely young piece and I believe always up for what the French call "l'autre".
The barons must be delighted to have their hands on a child king, Henry, to mould him in their ways of extorting everything in sight.
Now I hear that our doings when we were young and vigorous are passing into folklore and one day we may be as famous as King Arthur. It is said that we robbed the rich to give to the poor, as if we weren't the latter. The other great myth taking shape is that we lived in Sherwood Forest. Of course we visited it often, especially when the Nottingham lot were trailing around with bags of loot.
However, as every fule kno, we were mostly Yorkshire born and bred and no, not strong in t'arm and weak in t'ead. Well, perhaps the latter occasionally after our good friend John Smith made a very strong brew. We were freeborn sons of that great shire which all right thinking people regard as the place, which produces the salt of the earth. Let the Norman interlopers keep their 'sauce au poivre' and other such foreign muck.
The light grows dim as I write and the good sisters will shortly be bringing my evening meal. Its mostly slop these days, how I long for good strong teeth to tear into a haunch of venison before carousing the night away under the greenwood tree or, if wet, in a handy village hall. Mucky but matey that was us.
Those were the days! All the best for 1217 from your old friend and leader.

Robin of Locksley

Erich Honecker – historical notes

Erich Honecker – historical notes

Erich was a staunch communist and spent time in the early 1930’s in Moscow. He was arrested by the Nazis and after the war worked his way up the East German political system. In 1971 he was installed as first secretary in a “coup” organised by his friend Mielke. They went on to run the GDR until it’s collapse in 1989. He and his wife emigrated to Chile to live with his daughter. He died of cancer in 1994.

Erich Honecker 1988

Palast der Republik
Berlin
German Democratic Republic
December 1988

Comrades
As 1988 draws to a close I would like to share with you the continued, excellent achievements of our state and to look forward, in particular, to our 40th anniversary celebrations next year.
This year marked the culmination of our apartment building programme that I kicked off shortly after I came to power in 1971. We celebrated the completion of the three millionth flat.
In sport our trainers and pharmacologists have again helped our athletes to excel. In the Seoul Olympics we achieved 37 gold, 35 silver and 30 bronze medals putting our small country ahead of the capitalist USA and second only to the great USSR. Katerina Witt, as well as her second world skating championship, won the European Figure Skating for the sixth year in a row. It was a delight to invite her to another award ceremony and social chat with Margot and I, she is truly stunning and a credit to Margot’s education system.
As well as successes in Industry and Sport, the GDR has led the way in true socialism in the face of Mikhail Gorbachov’s ill guided “perestroika” and “glasnost”. Not for us the strikes we have seen in the Polish shipyards or the amnesty for enemies of the state in Hungary. In January our loyal Stasi under the command of my friend and colleague Erich Mielke were forced to deal with some terribly misguided Christians who tried to turn the anniversary of the Spartacists (Luxemburg and Liebknecht) into a political rally. Their ongoing detention in Hohenschonhausen will be a good test of their faith.
This year also saw me furthering the cause of International socialism by visiting France and Spain. In the latter I was able to lay a wreath at the cemetery of the International Brigade who so ably demonstrated the meaning of democratic socialism by standing up to the fascists of General Franco. They will always have a place in my heart, as I fear I still bear the scars of my internment under the Nazis even now after nearly fifty years
Chancellor Kohl paid us a return visit but does insist on talking of re-unification. I told him that I built the wall 27 years ago exactly to keep out the racketeers and black market and that in my view it would stand for another 100 years. They continue to beam in lies and propaganda but I am sure the broadcasts of Karl-Edward van Schnitzel help our population to put things into a truer context.
In September I was asked to present the Stasi awards. Whilst handing out the medals I met a very bright young Russian KGB man called Vladimir Putin who spoke perfect German. In our quick chart, for one so young he showed a strong grasp of what political power means and the necessity to control the media, so unlike Gorbachev, and I am sure he will go far one day.
This year we celebrated our thirty-fifth wedding anniversary and the 35th birthday of our daughter Sonja. Our grandchildren continue to delight us and keep me young, (this year I was seventy-six). Sonja’s husband is from Chile and they are talking of going to live there one day, which I fear will mean we may lose touch with our extended family.
Before we conclude this year, let me quell some popular misconceptions. A number of people have been asking what has happened to their copies of Sputnik magazine. I am afraid to inform you that this has ceased publication and so is no longer available in the GDR. Similarly there have been rumours on the level of requests for migration to the West and I can assure you that the total remains at around 16,000 of whom most are dissidents and not the 200,000 the imperialist media have suggested.
Now turning our attention towards next year’s celebrations. On October 7th our republic will be forty years old and we have planned a public holiday with parades and concerts. According to our state planners, you will soon be receiving your new red flags to wave in solidarity to the onward march of socialism. Looking forward to the next forty years of the GDR and wishing you a great 1989.
Yours,


Erich and Margot Honecker

Adolf Hitler 1939

Reichstag
Berlin
December 1939

Liebe Freundinnen und Freunde

Frohe Weihnachten


It is hard to believe another year has gone by and what a year it has been!
After our trips to Austria and the Sudetenland last fall, spring saw us visiting Czechoslovakia to catch up with some old relatives and friends and welcome them back into the fold. It all seemed to go terribly well but those ghastly hacks from the Guardian insisted on publishing stuff about the 10,000 arrests. As our new friend Joe from Moscow says, “one is a tragedy, a thousand is a statistic” but more of him later.

The Lebensraum policy seems to be working out nicely with more and more of my compatriots finding living space in the new territories. It is hard to think back to when we took over the party how small and pokey everything was then.

In March we went to Klaipeda in Lithuania. Not a bad little town with delightful beaches and a nice little resort at Palanga. It was good to be invited after some of the unpleasantness of previous years. They even insisted I do my speech from the theatre overlooking the town square and a good turnout there was too.

The summer was quiet apart from the bloody “Tommy” builders that Eva has had in at our little place in Austria - Haus Wachenfeld. We had a nice little feature in “Homes and Gardens” last year but no, madam is never content. As well a significant extension, never use Speer as an architect he has delusions of grandeur, she has seen fit to change the name to Berghof -“Dunromin” more like.

Back to Uncle Joe, I had always considered him to be a bit of a bore with Lenin this and Lenin that but imagine our surprise when he sent his barman Molotov round to see us. Well in no time at all we had Ribbentrop do the necessary and had carved up Poland and the Baltics quite nicely. Unfortunately it will mean cancelling our next beach holiday to Palanga and Eva did so like the reasonably priced amber there.

After sorting the pact out, we went to Warsaw in September and imagine my surprise when Neville’s lackey called up to declare war. "I am accordingly to inform your Excellency that unless the German Government are prepared to give His Majesty's Government satisfactory assurances that the German blah blah blah." After he had put himself out to come and see us twice last year, well really.

To cap it all the French joined in too and as we listened to Edouard we couldn’t suppress our laughter “The cause of France is identical with that of Righteousness. It is the cause of all peaceful and free nations. It will be victorious”. Since we are planning a trip to the Low Countries and France early next year we shall see.

For Christmas, Eva is keen to get in some skiing and to enjoy the new found space in Berghof but I suspect we will be in Berlin with the troops to show that rationing is not so bad.

Sorry this has been so brief but the alternative that Joseph Goebbels is planning for his new year’s speech “dramatic… filled with historical splendours….one could fill a library” - be grateful for small mercies

Heil me

Yours Addy and Eva

(And Blondi)

Hitler – historical notes

In 1940 Hitler invaded the Low Countries and in 1941 Germany invaded Russia. His dog Blondi was savaged by one of the SS guard dogs at their Austrian retreat. Hitler went on to lose the Second World War and, in 1945, as the Soviet troops approached he gave Blondi cyanide before he and Eva Braun took their own lives. Hitler and the Nazis were responsible for the Holocaust and the deaths of around nine million people

King Herod – Historical notes

King Herod – Historical notes
Herod was an Arab and as such was not well regarded by the Jews (an enmity which to some extent continues to this day). He won favour with the Romans, partly by killing Hezekiah, and was installed as their client king. He shifted allegiance from Mark Anthony to Octavius and, unlike the former, is alleged to have shunned Cleopatra’s advances. He had around 10 wives of whom Myriam was his true love although this did not stop him from killing her brother, her sons and indeed her. Although quite destructive when it came to people, Herod was a great builder of Judaen infrastructure. The slaughter of the innocents is only recorded through Matthew. The date of the letter is around 3 BC, shortly after Jesus’ birth and just before Herod’s death

King Herod

3756
Happy Hannukah
Dear,
This time last year was pretty hectic with a new star in the East closely followed by the three Zoroastrians: Balthazar, Melchior and Caspar (more of a ghost’s name if you ask me) bringing Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh for the king of the Jews. I told them “Frankincenese & Myrrh I got plenty of already”. You could see why I was pissed when they said “Oh we didn’t mean you, we meant the new King” especially after I had taken out my own son Alexander for this very reason just a couple of years ago.
I think I managed to play along with them pretty well and they promised to drop in on their way home. I gathered the scribes & priests together to check out what they knew and when they told me the new King would be born in Bethlehem of Judaea you could have knocked me down with a feather. Even dogs don’t shit on their own doorstep.
I instructed the army to “go and search for him diligently so that I may come and worship him too”, again convincing for anyone who doesn’t know me too well I thought.
My fuse finally blew when they came back and told me that the Magi had decided to take a different route home through Egypt. After that nasty business with Cleopatra over the prohibitively expensive sale & lease back of Jericho (Mark Anthony was so vindictive over the accidental drowning of Aristobulus), with steam coming out of my ears I ordered the army to slay any first born sons of two years and under.
Having got this out of the way, I decided to take the waters at Callirhoe. I fear my health as I approach my seventieth year is on the wane with almost continual pain in my stomach and the doctors tell me that my kidneys are on the way out. Doctors Schmoctors what do they know?
I still miss Myriam even after all these years. It was such a shame that she was unfaithful when I was away so that uxoricide was my only solution. However, I am back together with one of my earlier wives, Doris and our son Antipater.
The Roman’s, through Octavian, continue to be good to our land & me, the seven hundred Talents I loaned him looks to have been a shrewd investment! But the Jews are still ungrateful. The harbours, the palaces, the new temple on the Mount in Jerusalem with all it’s magnificent gilding and all they can do is carp on about my not being one of David’s heirs. When I am gone they will miss me as, although I have had my moments from killing the bandit Hezekiah all those years ago to the occasional purge of the Pharisees, the Romans really lack patience and will make me seem positively benevolent.
Finally before I put my increasingly dropsical feet up I heard that the infant I had been chasing had also ended up in Egypt. It seems that some carpenter, his virgin bride and her young son had fled there. Mark my words, someone so slippery as to escape all my armies and me will undoubtedly be even more trouble than the Romans!
Shalom Alacheim (peace be with you)
Yours, King, Herod

Edward Heath –historical notes

Edward Heath –historical notes

Edward Richard George Heath was born at Broadstairs in Kent on 9th July 1916 and attended St. Peters church there throughout his life. He was an accomplished organist and won a scholarship to Balliol College in Oxford. It was here that he began to take an interest in Conservative politics and debate. He enlisted in the Royal Artillery during the war and in 1946 he joined the civil service. He had always intended to enter politics and did so in the 1950 election.
He was Prime Minister from 1970 to 1974 during which time the UK endured very high inflation and industrial unrest. The three day working week lasted several months. When Mrs Thatcher became Prime Minister in 1979 she began to curb the power of the Unions culminating in defeating the miners and Arthur Scargill in 1984. Despite regaining power and the Conservatives revenge for the miner’s strike Ted Heath and Mrs Thatcher never liked one another
As well as being a keen sailor Ted Heath was a committed European and the UK’s entry to the EEC was his crowning achievement. Although Concorde eventually entered service in 1979 it never made money, the oil crises of the 1970’s ensuring that. The 1973 Channel tunnel project was abandoned in 1975 but was eventually restarted in the 1980’s with completion in 1994, it too has never turned a profit.
All of the Queens children except Edward have been divorced as was her sister Margaret.
The troubles in Northern Ireland were not resolved until 1998, nearly thirty years after the troops were sent in.
Edward Heath never married and he died aged 89 in 2005.

Edward Heath, Prime Minister 1973

10 Downing Street
Whitehall
London SW1

20th December 1973

Dear

I am afraid that year’s Christmas letter arrives in dark times compared to last year and I trust that you have a supply of candles to read this with. By now you will have seen in the papers that “Brother Arthur” and his comrades have forced us into the rationing of electricity with the consequence that we have had to declare a three day week. We had hoped to avoid anything this draconian but the fallout from the Yom Kippur war was a huge price hike in oil and so I am afraid we will have to grin and bear it for a few weeks to come. In any case, compared to sharing a bunk with the other crew in the Spartan conditions on racing yachts, not having the television after ten thirty and driving at fifty miles per hour are not too awful and are a small price to pay for bringing inflation under control.

All of this in the season of Goodwill has put a bit of a dampener on my mood but I hope that conducting this year’s carol service in Broadstairs and seeing the cherubic faces of the choristers will brighten things up for me. I know that you too will be able lift up your spirits over Christmas through listening to some good choral music and thinking of how different the Holy Land was in the time of the Nativity.

Thoughts of hard times ahead help me to cast my mind back to January with Britain’s historic entry into the European Economic Community. My new “ami” M. Pompidou has asked me to convey his wishes for a Joyeux Noel to you all. I am sure that my Premiership will be remembered for this above all other things and not for the chants of the other year “Maggie Thatcher – milk snatcher”. Talking of MT, Francis Pym has recommended her for something bigger than Education but despite her attempts to win me over by going on about the provision for Music education in her white paper I do not think she will go very far in politics and my judgement is legendary.

As you know, it is only a couple of years since I captained us to victory in the Admiral’s cup. Unfortunately I had to miss the beginning of Cowes week as HM had organised a Commonwealth heads of Government meeting in Ottawa. Given the high winds for the first race I was not too upset to have missed it and we managed a presentable third place in the second inshore race.

1973 has been a turbulent year in more ways than just the wind in the Solent. I had to lose Jellicoe and Lambton in July after their dalliances with some ladies of the night back in May. I often consider what is it that drives men like them to behave in this way and how fortunate I am never to have been so tempted. We also had the dreadful Lonhro affair with Rowland and his cronies stirring things up in Rhodesia. I suspect my description "the unpleasant and unacceptable face of capitalism" will be re-applied again and again given the desires of some men.

In matters Royal I was delighted with the opening by Her Majesty of the Sydney Opera House back in October. It is very encouraging, given their humble origins, that our Antipodean cousins are beginning to appreciate good music and in a building with a design resembling sails I could not have wished for more. The marriage of Princess Anne to her fellow equestrian Captain Mark Phillips lifted the nation in dull November. It is so good to see the monarchy standing up for family values and long may it continue.

My decision with Georges to press ahead with Concorde was vindicated when she broke the record for crossing the Atlantic. Coincidentally this year, her rival the TU144 Concordski tragically crashed at the Paris air-show an event which my military advisors assure me was down to pilot error and not him seeing a mirage, although I hadn’t realised these occurred outside of the desert. Another of my immense technological achievements this year was the launch, again with Georges, of the Channel Tunnel, which should be in service by 1980.

Now he has finished the Vietnam chapter in America’s history he is becoming less bearable and I was considerably displeased with Richard Nixon when he chose to visit Iceland in May to see Georges Pompidou and where he also met with their President Eldjarn & Prime Minister Johanneson. Such a meeting was particularly aggravating given that we have once again had to send the Navy in to protect our fishing fleets and are being accused of gunboat diplomacy.

On the subject of difficult islands, despite our best endeavours with the Argies, the Falklanders are as cross as snakes about having to travel through Argentina. To cap it all the bloody UN had the nerve to criticise us and made a new resolution in December “expressing gratitude for the continuous efforts made by the Government of Argentina to end this colonial situation”. I think Kurt Waldheim is just toadying up to the South Americans en masse now that Peron is back in Argentina and General Pinochet has ousted Allende. If they were not so far away and expensive to get to I could see how our tactics for Iceland might be repeated.

Continuing on my troublesome islands theme, I will end this letter in a more upbeat tone. This year we have seen bombs in Whitehall, Ian Paisley’s mob upsetting the Northern Ireland Assembly, the Bloody Sunday inquest blaming the Army and some more IRA bombers jailed but I am sure we have moved on from all this. Finally the Sunningdale agreement was signed on the 9th December and our troubles in Ireland will soon be behind us. As I have said before and will say again, I think I am a good judge of matters politic.

With best wishes for Christmas & the New Year

Sincerely yours,




Edward Richard George Heath MA

General Haig 1916 – historical notes

Part of the Whisky dynasty Haig was one of the “Donkeys” (Lions led by Donkeys) who sent millions of men to their deaths. He was xenophobic and particularly disliked the French. In 1917 the Third Battle of Ypres, Passchendaele one of the bloodiest battles of the war took place. After the war he was described by some as “butcher” and by others as the man who won the war, He died in 1928 aged 67

General Sir Douglas Haig 1916

From General Sir Douglas Haig
France
Christmas 1916
Dear ,
As you can see, I am still soldiering on in “La Belle France” as the natives call it. I believe some of our troops have other names for it.
I really feel that, at long last, I am building a good relationship with the French high command. That is not to say that I favour the word or name French, as Sir John would doubtless testify.
After a very busy and on, the whole, successful year, my staff and I will be spending a comfortable Christmas in this well-appointed chateau behind the lines. I hope not to have our celebrations disturbed by the noise of that dratted artillery, which so often happens during conferences on future strategy. How one longs for good old days of lances and sabres, when a good clean thrust saw the enemy falling among the thunder of hooves with only the noise of a gurgle.
We are well supplied with Christmas goodies from Messrs. Fortnum - keep those parcels coming next year!
I think the troops are bearing up remarkably well in the trenches. My staff tell me that morale is high, the British Tommy brushes aside the minor inconveniences of constant rain and bitter frosts as befits a white man worth his salt. A healthy outdoor life with plenty of bully beef, biscuits (the same as I feed my beloved dogs), and even hot tea occasionally, provides sufficient incentive for them to give the Boche a bloody nose and even gain another few yards of ground, or mud as they wittily call it.
The Colonials seem to do quite a lot of moaning, excellent scrappers though they are. Amazing when one thinks they mostly did not have the advantage of a good British public school education and their discipline leaves something to be desired.
It was difficult to get away for a well-earned leave this year owing to the big battle of the Somme in July. The weather was gorgeous, hot and sunny. It was rather hard to be criticised over the casualty figures by those stay-at-homes back in Westminster. It was hardly the fault of my staff and myself if so much top flight planning was stymied by the Boche not retreating in disorder as we had envisaged. We should, I suppose, have remembered the great Rabbie Burns’s words “the best laid plans, etc., etc.” Although a fellow Scot I do prefer his line "Freedom and Whiskey gang thegither"
With that in mind, I wish you a Happy New Year, and I myself look forward to even more successful campaigns, possibly in Flanders. We shall soon have those blighters on the run and gallop into Berlin before next Christmas with pennants flying.

Yours, secure in the faith of my Fathers and plenty of their wonderful spirit

Albert Einstein - Historical Notes

Born in 1879 most of the key dates of Einstein’s life are encapsulated in this letter. Throughout his life he was an opponent of tyranny and an ardent pacifist. He was a keen Zionist and was offered the presidency of Israel in 1952 which he refused. He died of an aneurism in 1955 and was posthumously made Time magazine’s person of the century. There is no record that he invented emoticons

Albert Einstein Christmas 1945

Albert Einstein
Old Grove Rd.
Nassau Point
Peconic
Long Island

December 1945

Dear,

Firstly, my compliments of the season and, secondly, apologies for the slightly melancholy tone of this year’s letter.

I find that I am still fascinated by mathematics and numbers although I believe that I am increasingly using them to hide behind. Many say it is due to my search for a unified field theory or my discomfort with uncertainty. I fear it is deeper seated with the inner conflict between my pacifism and what I have actually done for World peace.

62. This March I was sixty-six years old.

40. It is now forty years since my doctorate papers were accepted in the “Annelen der Physik” and E=mc2 first saw the light of day.

10. Some ten years ago I finally emigrated permanently to America and took up my post here at Princeton

34. Thirty-four years have elapsed since I was made Professor at the Karl Ferdinand University in Prague.

24. My Nobel Prize was awarded twenty-four years ago.

5. Five years of being a fully fledged citizen of the United States of America.

20. It is twenty years already since receiving the Copley medal and being made a governor of the Hebrew university.

1. One year ago I rewrote by hand my general theory of relativity and it raised $6 million for the war effort.

42. Forty- two years have passed since my first marriage to Milena

26. Twenty-six orbits of the sun from when my first marriage was dissolved and I married Elsa. It was in that year a solar eclipse provided the physical proof of my General Theory of Relativity.

9. Some nine years ago my beloved Elsa died.

12. Twelve years ago I published, “Why war?”

6. But, six years ago I wrote to Franklin Roosevelt imploring him to investigate chain reactions in uranium before the Germans did. The result was the Manhattan project and as we all know E=mc2 has been practically proven through the deaths of 200,000 in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Like opening Pandora’s box and releasing all that is bad into the world I know that science cannot be undiscovered or mischief placed back under lock and key. My earnest hope is that men of science can prevail upon mankind never to use these terrible weapons again.

Recently a young girl wrote to me asking for help with her 8th grade maths assignment. I replied with some diagrams and equations but included the line; “Do not worry about your difficulties with mathematics; I can assure you that mine are much greater”.

Yours very truly,


P.S. Whilst typing out some equations I noticed that if I turned the paper through 90 degrees that some parts looked like faces, I don’t suppose it will catch on but at least it lightened my mood.
8-I $-) :-(

So happy holiday

o<[:-{)>

Princess Diana – historical notes

Princess Diana – historical notes

Diana is supposed to have formed a relationship with Dr Hasnat Khan in 1996. After a troubled marriage in which both Diana and Charles publicly admitted to their adulteries they were divorced in 1996. In 1997 Diana formed a relationship with Dodi Fayed and they were both tragically killed when their car crashed into the columns of a Paris tunnel.

Princess Diana 1996

Kensington Palace
December 1996
Dear,
I hope you like this year’s card, it was so hard to choose between the different causes but I eventually decided on the British Red Cross as they have invited me to Angola in January to help publicise the devastation which is still being caused by land mines.
I have finished this year in high spirits and much of this I owe to you know who at RBH. He is so unlike some of my previous attempts to find love, humble, caring and drop dead gorgeous, even Jemima says so!
It pains me to go back to the start of the year, as last Christmas was my first apart from Wills and Harry. I just moped around on Christmas day feeling sorry for myself and wondering what “the enemy” would be up to in Norfolk. Luckily Susie called and I went over to hers on Boxing Day before jetting off to the Caribbean to get away from the whole beastly place.
January and the papers were being awful over what I was alleged to have said to Tiggy and then both Patrick and Nicole walked out in my hour of need. Sarah was also up against it as HRH had refused to up her allowance and the press were going on and on about her overdraft.
I saw a lot of Jemima and Imran visiting Lahore in February, arriving in a lovely pink Kurta and trousers. Their Shauks Kanam cancer hospital is so vital there and you probably heard that some lunatic bombed it in April killing six innocents. People can be so horrid.
When the details of the divorce were announced in March it was the saddest day of my life but I think my year bottomed in April when my darling brother Charles wrote to me suggesting I get help for my “problems” and the Tatler published a shocking article written by Julia C., poor Will.
June was much better and, although I didn’t do much on my birthday, I caused a stir in Chicago and helped them to raise over one million dollars for breast cancer charities. A big American bypassed all the rules and got me to dance with him. Apparently he is called Wilkie, is terribly well off and seen as very eligible there although he didn’t “float my boat”.
In July the divorce terms were finalised which meant that I am no longer to be a Princess but am, of course, still aiming to be the Queen of people’s hearts- someone coined a good expression for me “compassion with fashion”. Jane Atkinson resigned, I don’t know what was wrong with my staff this year, but Paul continues to be my rock. Oh, that nasty Ian Botham lost a libel case to Imran so they were both over and offered good advice on you know who.
Washington on my own this September was very different from my first visit there but Hilary and Bill were quite charming and again huge sums were raised for those who need our help.
The Dior fashion gala in New York in December was a WoW and I wore the midnight blue Galliano trimmed with black lace – the paparazzi loved the slightly risqué styling but, at least, we seem to be getting along so much better than at the start of the year when it felt I could do no right. Finally I was awarded humanitarian of the year by Henry Kissinger who said that I had aligned myself with the ill, the suffering and the downtrodden. I am sure that one has had to experience the bad to appreciate the good.
So now, as the year is drawing to a close, and I have found someone who really understands what I am about, I think I am actually looking forward to my best year ever. It feels that my life will have finally turned the corner and there is light at the end of the tunnel.
Have a great 1997,
Yours sincerely,

Diana
XXX

Jeanne Darc (Joan of Arc) 1429

Christmas 1429
Jargeau
Dear ,
1429 has been a year of two halves, as my brothers would say. They have continued to spend their time perfecting “La Choule” into what they now call “Le Futbol” and have replaced the heavy ball with an inflated bladder covered in leather. I tried to persuade them that visiting our beloved church of St. Catherine at Remy was a better use of their time but they were “le futbol fou” and I fear that this game of theirs may be infectious.
So let us begin with what they call “le kick off” for the first half. My visions have continued and at the start of this year I saw a blinding light from Heaven itself when an Angel appeared before me telling me to raise the siege on Orleans. I nearly received the “carte jaune” over Robert de Baudricourt from Vaucoulers as he refused to see me. However, in February after another vision he not only agreed to see me but also provided me with an escort to see the Dauphin in Chinon. My second vision had foretold of the defeat in Rouvray and I awoke from it with the stench of fish in my nostrils. It later transpired that our army had been defeated whilst trying to capture the Lenten supplies to the English & Burgundians much of which was salt herring. So within almost no time we were “un zero” down.
En route to Chinon we slept the first night in the Abbey of St. Urbaine and from there travelled to Clairvaux, Poitiers and Auxerre, where I attended mass, then onto Mezilles & Viglain. I have just re-read this part of my letter and crave your forgiveness for it sounds more like a travelogue than a pilgrimage to our future king. Continuing on our journey, in the church of St. Catherine I celebrated three Holy Masses in one day! If pride were not a sin I could wax more lyrical on the joys of piety & chastity.
Having travelled for ten days dressed as a man I still do not understand how they are so easily tempted by lust. In Chinon the Count de Vendome escorted me to see the Dauphin, our new King Charles VII. In the throng of three hundred or more souls I came directly to him without instruction and said “France has been ruined by a woman but will be restored by a virgin”. He replied that God would know as the ****** fighting had been going on forever and it was becoming known as the one hundred year war!
The King decided that they had better check out my fitness as well as my beliefs and I was thoroughly tested in Chinon and then again in Poitiers. I told them it was my fervent belief and destiny that I was to liberate Orleans and accompany Charles to Rheims for his Coronation. Although raised as a humble farm girl I must have passed their examination for in April I was sent to Tours where they had prepared a suit of armour, a standard bearing Holy images and a sword from St. Catherine’s church. It was here that I wrote to the King of England to let him know of my selection and my plans to beat him out of France- you are history I told him.
So with the Hermit Jean Pasquerel on as a substitute spiritual guide, I finally arrived in Blois in April to meet the rest of the team. When I found out how the Army had been behaving I was incandescent. Anger may be a sin but all those being there committed outweighed it. No wonder we kept being defeated with all manners of lewd acts being carried on in their training camp. Having forbidden swearing, drinking and gambling I insisted that all men must attend Mass & confession at least once per week and observe the Sabbath. Finally I ordered that all camp followers and mistresses must either marry a soldier or depart. I was sure this new regime would help us to get God back on side and to defeat the dissolute English. My soldiers seemed to respect my new modus operandi and to keep their spirits up I did permit the occasional wolf whistle when I passed by.
So after the equivalent of what to observers may have been a dull part of play we were well organised for an attack. We entered Orleans on the 29th of April and I began to build on my earlier letter and taunted the English on their siege engines “vous entrerez à la maison dans une ambulance”. They responded with some crude sexual references, a suggestion I would be better tending the cattle and that if they caught me they would burn me – ha! After the feast to commemorate the finding of the Holy Cross and Ascension Day, both of which I celebrated with Mass and fasting, I was wounded with an arrow. Despite this injury we fought on and by the eighth of May the English were in retreat – “one all”, as they would say.
The last part of the first half of the year went by in a blur. The Loire campaign resulted in a hat trick from our new gunner Maitre Jean when we took Jargeau, Meung and Beaugency over the course of June. I picked up a knock to the head in Jargeau but it was nothing serious and over all our losses were small. Let’s be honest, Quatre un is a very respectable half time score line.
In July the army & I escorted the Dauphin through Burgundian occupied territory to Rheims where he was crowned as I foresaw in the Cathedral and anointed with oil from the Holy vial – a superb celebration for the whole team.
The second half of 1429 began nervously. Having achieved everything from my visions even in my most devout prayers I now sometimes see nothing but flames and my clerics have not helped me to interpret this.
I don’t know if it was our recovery from the battle of the Herrings with the Loire almost being too easy, or whether the sting of defeat gave the English renewed passion to up their game? Whatever the cause en route to liberate Paris we failed to take Lagny le Sec and I have to feel that this was an own goal from lack of trying. I also need to take issue with the crowd at Compiegne where the people were less than helpful and did not work at all at buoying our troops up. This despite our chef, M. Delia, telling them they were the extra men on our team, but she had been at the cooking wine.
So quatre deux (just) by my reckoning and in September we launched our attack on Paris at the St. Henri gate. We had not been fighting long when I was wounded again this time by a crossbow bolt. It was more serious than my previous injuries and I was stretchered off. The attack was repulsed and we set off back to the Loire. Quatre trois - sacre bleu.
So back in Gien the army was dissolved and I took a small contingent of men to liberate La Charite. St Pierre le Moutier surrendered easily but even though we laid siege for a month, in the end as the weather turned we had lost and we were forced shortly afterwards to abandon the game completely.
A bit of great news reached me shortly after the match. Charles has ennobled my family and me in perpetuity as a reward for my efforts to free our country from Les Anglaises.
So as we prepare to celebrate the birth of our Saviour Jesus Christ, I thank the Lord for all his mercies and with his blessing the Saints Michael, Catherine and Margaret for our Cinq Quatre victory over the English. I hope that next year brings you what you wish for and I myself wish for victory in the rematch next year. Finally, I believe that I now understand my flickering visions – God wants to make sure I am all fired up to meet the enemy next year.
Yours truly,

Jeanne Darc, Maid of Orleans

Jeanne Darc (Joan of Arc) historical notes

Jeanne Darc - Historical Notes
Jeanne was raised on a farm and was devoutly religious. She began seeing visions and must have been persuasive as she gained an audience with the Dauphin and was given a role to help lead the army against the English.
After a successful Loire campaign the army was gradually disbanded. She was captured by the Burgundians, allies of the English, in 1430 and sold to the English in 1431. She was tried as a witch and burnt at the stake in Rouen.
She was beatified in 1909 and canonised in 1920.
Although football is descended from a number of games including choule, there are no historic records of her brothers playing the game or indeed of her inventing the chant “you’re going home in an ambulance”.

From: Oliver Cromwell
Huntingdon
Christmas 1650

I am writing what in previous ungodly years would have been my annual Christmas letter. I cannot see that a letter to old friends can possibly be described as frivolous self-indulgence when it brings you tidings of the wonderful changes happening in our country. Now that high-minded principled people have at last had the chance to put their good intentions into actions and words, things can only get better. Naturally, we have a long way to go yet after centuries of royal misrule.

As you know, we started off last year with a major offensive against popery in Ireland. Inspite of many mighty victories, which necessitated strong-arm measures, I have to say that the results were disappointing. We tried so hard to educate the natives in the ways of truth and righteousness, and still they want their own customs and misguided religion. So we left them to simmer in their bogs and concentrated our efforts closer to home. The national population, so prone to gambling, drinking, wenching and other godless pursuits obviously needed the smack of firm government. The ignorant populace does not seem to realise that there is a world conspiracy of evil threatening these shores unless all excesses are curbed forthwith.

The late king had been regrettably soft on the poor, but we knew they were shiftless and idle and should be punished rather than encouraged. In the spring we banned all forms of gambling and closed down a goodly number of alehouses and other dens of vice. We also banned swearing and put a clever system of fines into operation, whereby the richest paid most. They certainly swore the most. Fortunately the most licentious fled abroad to toady round that godless youth who calls himself Charles II. He won't be that here in my lifetime I can tell you.

In April we made sure that all heathen maypoles were chopped to the ground to forestall the celebration of May Day with its consequent dancing and lewdity. There were a few murmurings about this as they are so slow to realise that the government knows best what is good for them. We upped the pay of our stout friends in the army, who know what is expected of them and had no more trouble.

We also did away with church feast days, remove the “e” and you have “fast” so much better for the system than wicked over indulgence.
In the summer we turned our attention to sport, such a waste of time, and banned everything that attracted a crowd. We excepted the punishment of wrongdoers thinking it educational for people to see what might happen to them if they too fell into the ways of unrighteousness. We instituted a system of community service for idle no-goods and gave them buckets of whitewash with which to destroy and cover over all pagan images in churches. Prayer should be untrammelled by surroundings meant to entrance the eye. We also banned the wearing of jewellery and rich clothestuffs. Every right thinking person is equal in the sight of God, and who, on the dreaded day of Judgement would want to be consigned to the pit of hell for wearing Great Aunt Maud's diamonds? I thought so.

Now mid-winter approaches and I trust that all fripperies have been cast aside. I warn those of you in London that the army will be most vigilant in checking kitchens and larders for anything smacking of Popish excess in food, which will be immediately confiscated. Our thinkers tell us that plain boiled suet pudding is most acceptable fare for December 25th, ungarnished by sauces and sweetmeats. It can safely be left to bubble away while everyone is on their knees thanking God for present mercies.
I have left little space for family news, as that smacks of self-indulgence.

We look forward to 1651 and a decade spent righting past wrongs and evils. By the end of this new decade royalty will be but a faint memory and people will have forgotten that there was ever any other form of government, or the things they misguidedly thought of as pleasure and enjoyment.

Yours in the True Faith,

Oliver Cromwell - Historical notes

Oliver Cromwell was born in 1599 and became MP for Huntingdon in 1628, He raised an army for Parliament in 1642 and in 1649 had Charles I executed. He became Lord Protector in 1653 and died in 1658. His Commonwealth did not succeed and the monarchy was restored in 1660. Charles II enjoyed a fairly dissolute lifestyle and Puritanism was soon a thing of the past in Britain.

Winston Churchill historical notes

Winston S Churchill – historical notes
Churchill was born in 1874 and after a brief career in the army he entered parliament in 1900. He rose through ministerial ranks to become Chancellor of the Exchequer in 1924. He was against the policy of appeasement towards Hitler and in 1940 he was made Prime Minister. For his morale boosting speeches and statesmanship during WW2 he is regarded as one of the world’s greatest leaders. He was right not to trust Stalin and Churchill coined the phrase “iron curtain” straight after the war. He lost the 1945 election but in 1951 became prime minister again until a stroke forced him to retire in 1955. His “History of WW2” was published in six volumes and he won the Nobel prize for literature in 1953. He died in 1965 and General De Gaulle attended the funeral.

Winston Churchill 1944

10 Downing Street
Whitehall
December 15th 1944
My Dear ,
To continue from my El Alamein speech of 1942 - now is not the end but it is, perhaps, the beginning of the end!
Clemmie suggested that this year we might include a brief synopsis of events with our Christmas card and then suggested that, with my experience of writing, I might like to compose it on the family’s behalf.
In January, like a Websters dictionary I was Morocco bound and, as I was still recovering from that nasty bout of pneumonia, took some time out in Marrakech at La Mamounia to paint. Harris informed me that this month his men dropped two thousand eight hundred tons of bombs on Berlin and that he could win the war without a ground assault. Following Teheran last November we are turning our attention to Europe post war and I must make a mental note to “clip his wings” before he does something completely abhorrent.
A German air raid in February blew out many of the windows in number ten. We were unharmed and the mess was quickly cleared up with little or no damage. Charlie the parrot showed the right spirit and was particularly vociferous after the raid repeating “f*** Hitler” much to everyone’s delight.
We had a family party for Clementine’s fifty-ninth birthday and Diana, Sarah and Mary were with us at Chartwell. Randolph could not join us as he was in Yugoslavia helping Tito’s partisans. In November the red army liberated Belgrade and: Serbia, Croatia, Slovenia, Bosnia (including Herzegovina), Macedonia, Montenegro, Vojvodina and Kosovo were made into the new Yugoslavia. I fear for the long-term future, as must anyone who has read the history of the Balkans. Given the proximity of this new state to Greece we are planning to fly out to Athens this Christmas in the hope that we may stop Josef from excessive expansionism.

June of course saw the liberation of Rome on the 4th with the operation Overlord Normandy landings on the 6th. I had wanted to go over with the first wave but H.M. prevailed and we visited Monty on the 10th. I wrote to Uncle Joe who had been asking for the western front that the enemy is now bleeding on every front at once; perhaps this will stop his perfidy.
In August I visited Pope Pius XII and we discussed the dangers of communism, which in light of the treatment before this war of the Orthodoxy in Russia was a subject close to his heart. This month also saw the liberation of Paris much to the delight of my “bete noir” General De Gaulle. I have already made arrangements that, if he outlives me, my funeral cortege should stop at Waterloo station to give the radio announcers something to relish.
Following Teheran last year I had hoped that Roosevelt, Stalin and I might meet together but in the eventuality I sailed to Canada in September and flew via Cairo to Moscow in October. Although Stalin made a large tick on my piece of paper (Romania 90% Russia 10% rest, Hungary 50:50, etc.) we left after the usual dreadful rounds of interminably long, drunken (even by my standards) dinner parties with no formal solution to either the Balkans or Poland. If and when Russia takes the lot it will be interesting to see how long it retains them, my money is on considerably less time than our Empire has already lasted.
November saw us in Paris to mark the Armistice, Franklin won a record fourth term in office and I celebrated my seventieth birthday and even His Majesty King George stayed until after one in the morning. The three events combined to make me question what next? Europe is already preparing for the peace but what of the Albion and the Conservatives? Although my party colleagues assure me that once the war is won we will be returned to government I am less convinced. Beveridge’s “Full employment in a free society” will remind the populace of the general strike and depression rather than the homes for heroes campaign.
Whichever way next year’s election goes I believe in destiny and am sure I will be PM again. In the meantime, if people ask me what I will do if not re-elected I will tell them that when this war is over history will be kind to me as I intend to write it!
Yours always,
Winston S Churchill