Falcon Works

Sad to hear about the Falcon Works fire at the back of the London Road in Stoke town. As far as I know it’s been derelict since at least the mid 1990s, so, really… what can you expect after thirty years? These things have to be either i) properly re-used within 15 years; ii) totally and deliberately abandoned to nature as an eco-ruin, probably with floors removed and other measures to prevent it becoming a haven for druggies; iii) shipped off brick-by-brick for reconstruction at the Black Country Museum; or iv) the site cleared with the intention of building on it in a few decades’ time.

Cobalt mine on Alderley Edge

An abandoned cobalt mine on Alderley Edge, rediscovered. Apparently un-vandalised and…

“in pristine condition, together with […] personal objects and inscriptions”

It was mined in “the early 19th century because of the Napoleonic Wars”. In peacetime conditions the ‘zaffre’ type of cobalt could be imported annually to the UK from Saxony and Prussia (now Germany / Poland). Then used in certain types of glaze mixes (for ‘cobalt blues’ etc) by the pottery industry, in a highly diluted form at 1:150,000. The Alderley Edge mine reported today is said to have been abandoned in 1810, no longer needed.

Peak Kings

Buxton Museum and Art Gallery has a thoughtful blog post on Anglo-Saxon jewellers of the Peak, spurred by a new find near Tissington (above Ashbourne). The article also discusses several early Victorian finds that found their way across to collections in Sheffield rather than to Buxton. The White Peak, the article states, has…

“the greatest collection of 7th century Anglo-Saxon monumental burials in the Midlands, and particularly around the village of Tissington. Although it has been fashionable to view these burials as representative of the elite of a very local community, another theory is that the zone may have been used as a kind of “valley of the kings” for a wider regional elite.”

Getting to Llandudno by train

The railway operator Avanti West Coast has the first details of their ‘from December 2022’ timetable. There’s a hint in the Express and Star newspaper coverage today (talking about Staffordshire connections with Scotland and the North Wales coast) and also in Avanti’s official advance brochure, that North Wales — and perhaps even the resort of Llandudno town — might be better and more directly served…

“more trains running to … Llandudno from December 2022. Watch this space.”

Although that might just mean to direct-from-Liverpool, something the local politicians have long been pressing for.

At present, getting to Llandudno town from Stoke-on-Trent involves three hours and two changes, on one of two routes…

Route 1: Stoke – Crewe – Chester – Llandudno Town. (The latter section is the Manchester Airport to Llandudno service, and as such may be crowded and luggage-heavy).

Route 2: Stoke – Crewe – Llandudno Junction – Llandudno Town.

Those down in Wolverhampton, rather than Stoke, used to be luckier. They could just hop on a direct train, no changes. That was the Birmingham International airport to Holyhead boat-train, via leafy Shropshire to Chester and then Holyhead for the boat to Ireland. It took the same time to Llandudno Town as from Stoke, three hours from Wolverhampton.

In the 1990s this boat-train service was a great throbbing heavy diesel to Holyhead, with old 1950s carriages that had proper sprung seats and good old-fashioned slide-down wooden windows. Wonderful. You wouldn’t have been surprised to see Will Hay walking along the platform at Wolverhampton, tapping the carriage wheels.

The sensible slide-down windows meant you could get the sea-air in, as the train began to hug the North Wales coastline, and you didn’t suffocate on a sunny day. It was a great journey, albeit with an icky bit for 20 minutes as the Telford-to-Shrewsbury commuters piled in. But fine after that.

Sadly I’m not sure if the Birmingham – Holyhead train calls at Llandudno Town anymore. The above timetable site says “yes” via Arriva, but it may well be out-of-date. Since another and seemingly more reliable timetable site says “no”, the service now just calls at the Junction.

It gives the same for all the Birmingham – Holyhead service times. The service appears to take no once-a-day shunt into Llandudno Town. A little digging finds a press report which suggests the connection was lost in 2021 due to the lockdowns, along with the loss of the direct London – North Wales service. Some ‘Levelling Up’ needed there, I’d suggest.

So there’s no ‘via Wolverhampton’ option any more (unless Avanti West Coast find a way, from Dec 2022) and it’s thus a toss-up, if travelling from Stoke. Route 1 risks running into heavy baggage/crowding and wafting overseas viruses on the Manchester Airport to Llandudno service, but is cheaper (I suspect the airport service is subsided by the Tourist Board). Route 2 means you’d have to endure a change at Llandudno Junction and then the short hop into the seaside town on a local Welsh shuttle, and is also twice the price and gets you there later — the station is a bit of a 10-12 minute walk from the sea-front and you wouldn’t be walking onto the Promenade and looking at the sea until noon.


Incidentally, searching Google for direct train service to llandudno shows just how useless all the robo-writing AIs are. Three pages of useless robo-pages to get past in the results, before you can find something written by a human and thus useful. The local Tourist Board could usefully work on getting a human-written page up top. The problem then would be to keep the information on it timely. But it would surely be worth £1,000 a year to pay a train enthusiast to maintain it by hand.

More on Tolkien and Bingo

I’ve found a new and seemingly previously-unrecognised potential source for the name of “Bingo”, Tolkien’s original name-idea for Frodo in The Lord of the Rings. “Bingo Bolger-Baggins” was the initial name. The matter of this initial naming has puzzled many, despite it echoing “Bungo”, who was Bilbo’s father in The Hobbit. I’ve previously casually looked at the name in relation to the advent of the later modern commercial game of “Bingo” (seemingly in the 1950s as a replacement for “Lotto”). As part of another essay I also glanced at the idea that the common exclamation By Jingo! became in some trades the slang contraction of “Bingo!”.

Now a find of the popular book Merrie games in rhyme: from ye olden time (1886, London) reveals that “Bingo” was around in the culture of Tolkien’s childhood. This book of children’s games and songs was published six years before he was born. Its very first song-game is the “Bingo”…

The author the Hon. Emmeline Plunket is now better known among historians of astronomy for her scholarly Ancient Calendars and Constellations (1903, aka Calendars and Constellations of the Ancient World), and she thus appears to have been a scholar of Biblical and related astronomical systems — as well as a collector of the songs of her native land. She thus seems a reliable source, and the song is not a Victorian confabulation.

A publication review of Merrie games in the Saturday Review of Politics, Literature, Science and Art picks out four song-games headed by ‘Bingo’ — “There is ‘Bingo’ and the ‘Muffin Man'” — thus implying that the song-games were then common-knowledge even among parents and nannies and that their mention would ‘hook’ interested readers. Curiously the review disparages the artistic design — it was deemed not sumptuous and ornate enough for late-Victorian tastes! A short welcoming review of the book in The Antiquary also frowned on the ornate design, though for reasons left unstated.

What of scholarly attention in the modern period? Well, the book is cited, but not evaluated for authenticity, in the Opie’s The Singing Game and also in English County Songs: Words and Music. But otherwise it appears to have been totally ignored by later books.

Is there then any other good evidence for the existence of “Bingo” in English play-culture? Yes, two items can be easily found via search.

1) Tales of the Yorkshire Wolds (1894) cites… “the ancient song of ‘Bingo'” being played by the brass band at a churchyard gala at Cragside, while children nearby have gone on to play “a screaming game of kiss-in-the-ring” on the lawns.

2) Cornish Feasts and Folk-lore (1890) records… “Bobby Bingo, game of” as “very common” around Helston in Cornwall. Which links it with my recent book Tolkien & The Lizard: J.R.R. Tolkien in Cornwall, 1914 (2021). I there established that Tolkien’s companion on this seminal holiday was a musician and scholar of chant-song, and someone who had formerly been for many years the curate of Porthleven — which is the coastal port for the adjacent town of Helston and its outlying hamlets such as Godolphin.

3) It was also noted at Stone in mid Staffordshire circa 1900, as a circle/dancing game (Trans. North Staffordshire Field Club, 1901).

Thus the game-song existed as far apart as Yorkshire and Cornwall, and in mid Staffordshire, albeit late in the Victorian period and after the publication of Plunket’s popular Merrie games.

I then searched for pre-1885 occurrences. This led me to Gomme’s A Dictionary of British Folklore (aka Folk-lore). The Dictionary was actually a series, and the book is thus un-findable under that title at places such as Hathi and Archive.org. It is actually to be found online under the title The Traditional Games of England, Scotland and Ireland : with tunes, singing rhymes and methods of playing (1898, 2 Vols. in the Dictionary of British Folklore series). From Vol. 1 tumbles a wealth of detailed lore on “Bingo”…

I’m pleased to find here another Potteries children’s song collected by Miss Keary. Fellow Tolkienians will also note the prominence of ‘Sting’ and a ‘Ring’ here, both items rather well-known to readers of The Lord of the Rings.

Regrettably Gomme omits all dates from correspondents and sources, so one can’t tell if some of these song-games pre-dated the popular publication of “Bingo” in a book aimed at children. However the final note in the article, usefully reprinted from Northamptonshire Notes and Queries, points out that “Byngo” was the name of the dog in the song “The Franklin’s Dogge” aka “Ye Franklin’s Dogge”. On tracking this down, it refers to a footnote in The Ingoldsby Legends as collected and published in the early Victorian period by the Rev. Richard H. Barham. His note gives a “primitive ballad” sung in spelling-out form (the same as the later children’s song-game). The song was had via a “Mr. Simpkinson from Bath” in Somerset and is as follows…

A franklyn’s dogge leped over a style,
And his name was littel Byngo!
B wyth a Y — Y wyth an N,
N wyth a G — G wyth an O–
They call’d him little Byngo!

This Franklyn, Syrs, he brewed goode ayle
And he called it Rare goode Styngo!
S, T, Y, N, G, O!
He called it Rare goode Styngo!

Nowe is not this a prettie song?
I think it is bye Jyngo!
J with a Y– N, G, O–!
I swear it is by Jyngo!

A “franklyn” was a medieval term for a freeman [farmer?] who owned land and property, but was neither a peasant serf nor a noble. My suspicion would be that the word is perhaps a small embellishment to give a more ye olde flavour to an original folk-source, since the phrase “old man” might fit there and sing better. But this text can be found given in The Ingoldsby Legends editions of 1866 and 1852, and thus it clearly pre-dates the later child-song collectors of the 1880s and 90s. In its B-I-N-G-O spelling form it correlates well with the later children’s forms.

Searches suggest that the children’s song-game of “Bingo” appears to have been forgotten by the early 1930s, and earlier meanings would have been swept away by the advent of the bingo gaming halls of the 1950s and 60s. Though interestingly the ‘piecing out’ element could be seen as being kept, but transferred from alphabet letters to what had previously been called “Lotto” numbers. Note also that the mid 20th century bingo-hall balls ‘leap’ in the air like little dogs (numbered ping-pong balls in compressed-air ‘blower’ cages were used to pick random numbers, before the advent of digital methods).

Yet in Tolkien’s early childhood the song-game “Bingo” was evidently a well-known part of children’s play culture in England, especially so circa perhaps from 1880-1905. It was also widespread, being found as far apart as Yorkshire down to the tip of Cornwall, and from Lincolnshire across to Shropshire. There is one early example that appears to be a tavern ale-song from circa the 1840s in Somerset. If the publication of this song is the origin of a game-song’s later spread, or was simply an early random survival of something already widespread in the 1840s, must now remain forever unknown.

As for Tolkien, “Bingo” could well have formed: i) part of Tolkien’s own games in young and middle childhood; ii) been encountered still alive in Porthleven and around Helston in Cornwall in the summer of 1914, or in mid Staffordshire when he was there; iii) and/or been a focus of interest via a 1920s encounter with the publications of the English song and folk-lore collectors of the 1880s and 90s, especially in pursuit of “the little dog leaped…” relic fragments from “Hey Diddle Diddle” — a nursery song we know Tolkien was very interested in and which he incorporated into The Lord of the Rings in the form of Frodo’s tavern-song at Bree.

Of course, I should say that it’s also well known that his young children had toy Australian koala-bears named the Bingos. There was a ‘Bingo Koala’ brand of stuffed toy bear sold circa 1928-30, and which looked much like normal teddy-bears but were grey-white.