The Yates’ 1798 map of Staffordshire, here the section from Barlaston to Leek. And also the route from Red Street (the old Roman road rising up off the Cheshire Plain) across to the ridge-following ‘Earslway’ that once led to Alton Castle.
For those unfamiliar with the area, the towns “Burslem” and “Handley”, the various hamlets of “Fenton” and the outlying “Lane End” later become Stoke-on-Trent. “Totmanslow” is the Hundred. Alveton (bottom right) is now Alton.
Gawd, Amazon just gets worse and worse and worse at search results. I’m an expert searcher and it gives me results that are utter rubbish. It’s now almost impossible to get a forward look at what’s coming or what’s been published recently in books. Something is very badly wrong with their algorithms, if it isn’t just down to cynical ‘confusion marketing’.
What’s the alternative? Hive.co.uk, on sorting for books / release dates, gives the searcher a better result, though still not perfect and without dates on the results themselves.
There’s a new three-year national and funded curlew survey, ‘Curlew LIFE’, recruiting staff and starting up now. It’s paired with a major new…
“England Curlew Recovery Partnership … set up with government support, which will explore opportunities to embed curlew recovery within Defra’s new Environmental Land Management Scheme (ELMS), which will reward farmers and land managers for environmental work.”
The measure of a “league” occurs many times in the speech of those in Middle-earth. What was Tolkien’s “league”, and how many miles did it have in it?
The league used in Ancient Rome was defined as 1½ Roman miles, a Roman mile being 5,000 feet or a thousand paces for a Roman pacer or legion. Thus a league would be 1,500 paces or about 1.4 miles today. A typical day’s journey of six Roman miles on foot would thus be two leagues in the morning, and another two in the afternoon. The traveller would then have covered 5.66 modern miles. It should also be noted that the Roman mile continued in use in England until changed in the year 1593 under Queen Elizabeth I.
However, buried in a deep appendix is the information that the Numenorians effectively used a standard three-mile measure for their league. “5,277 yards, two feet and four inches, not the modern 5,280 yards”, according to Middle-earth Distances Table (2007), with the slight difference making little difference. Thus the modern ‘three modern miles’ measure and Middle-earth measure appear to agree. This can be somewhat tested with reference to “The Riders of Rohan” chapter of LoTR…
Aragorn smiled. ‘Keen are the eyes of the Elves,’ he said.
‘Nay! The riders are little more than five leagues distant,’ said Legolas.
[Waiting for the approaching horseman, who are “riding like the wind” when on the firm downland track…] The time passed slowly and heavily.
Eomer and his Eored are thus spied by Legolas when they are some 15 miles distant, and they are not coming on in quite a direct line. They are climbing a rising track from a wide open river valley and then coming on fast across open downland, easy riding country. The horses are male, which go faster at speed and tire less than mares, but they carry heavy gear and large men.
At a fast trot and with a good stride a lone modern horse might take 100 minutes to cover a 10 mile course, or ten minutes per mile.
If we assume the highly-trained Eored with powerful horses is making an average of six minutes per mile, then it takes them about 90 minutes to reach Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas. This seems about right, and feels more right than if the Roman league were assumed, which would put the Eored at seven miles distance when first seen by Legolas and thus arriving in just 40 minutes or less.
The league is a natural and human measure, either way. In pre-modern times a burdened traveller might hope to make six miles a day, and thus a Numenorian league was either a morning or afternoon’s walking and a natural distance to ‘think in’. A day would then involve two leagues of travel, more or less. Similar was the Roman ‘two leagues’, or some 2.8 miles. An army could also cover distance at about the same speed. For instance when Marlborough’s Army of 1704 covered 250 miles from Bedburg to Ulm, they made six miles a day. Compare this to a Roman legion, light-marching efficiently on good Roman straight roads with supply stations along the route. They were expected to be able to make 20 miles a day, for several days at a time.
Thus, when one reads “league” in LoTR perhaps the easiest way to translate it is as “a half day of walking”. If something is “two leagues away”, it could take a day to reach it on foot. If it is “ten leagues” away then one should allow about a week to walk there, assuming reasonable tracks and not getting lost or stopped. The three companions (Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli) are, however, running fast across open unwooded terrain in the wolds of Rohan.
There is another test, one for walking when speed is absolutely essential. When Faramir reports to Denethor, he uses “leagues” as measurement, and Gandalf also comments on the speed and distance…
“I parted with them in the morning two days ago,” said Faramir. “It is fifteen leagues thence to the vale of the Morgulduin, if they went straight south; and then they would be still five leagues westward of the accursed Tower. At swiftest they could not come there before today, and maybe they have not come there yet. [Gandalf then comments] ‘The morning of two days ago, nigh on three days of journey!”
So three long days of journey, on relatively good paths (and some road) through Ithilien to the cross-roads and beyond, going as fast as possible and with a cunning and swift scout, equals twenty leagues or 60 miles. They are being expect by Faramir to make 20 miles a day at the very fastest, in relatively easy country. If he assumes 12 miles is more likely for a day’s average in Ithilien, then the average would be two three-mile leagues in a morning and another two in the afternoon. Really pushing themselves they might actually do three in the morning and three in the evening, which would then be 18 miles, plus another two miles by night. That would give the 20 miles that Faramir offers. They do indeed make that on the first day’s long march (“seven leagues”) at least.
Slightly earlier, on the journey down to Ithilien, Gollum also gives a clear indication of travel times… “By his reckoning it was nearly thirty leagues from the Morannon to the cross-roads above Osgiliath, and he hoped to cover that distance in four journeys.” So that would be seven and a half leagues (just over 22 miles) per night, travelling over country slightly away from the road but parallel to it, fed with sustaining lembas and with an experienced and swift guide to follow.
The Shire, with the Westmarch added, was 50 leagues from end-to-end and north-south, or about the same area as modern England if measured from the Isle of Wight up to the Yorkshire Moors. Or from Norwich on the east coast across to Aberystwyth in the west, adding England to Wales. It would thus take some five weeks to walk across the Shire at medieval speeds, depending on how much time was spent supping in inns and hearing news from travelling dwarves. However, the ‘Ithilien’ speed suggests it might be done fairly pleasantly at three leagues a day by foot travellers in a hurry, which means perhaps a journey of three weeks.
As for fathoms, this is another sensible and human measure. A fathom is about the distance of two arm-lengths for a grown man, or six feet. For many this would also have been about the height of a man, maybe a little less. However for hobbits this would be less, perhaps three feet, since they have small bodies (to the tall and strapping men of well-fed Gondor, Pippin looks like “a lad of nine summers or so”). Thus, when Frodo peers over the edge of the sharp cleft in the Emyn Muil, and estimates the drop at “about eighteen fathoms” he may mean about 50 feet or a bit less. Since hobbits never miss when throwing stones and shooting arrows, we can assume they are also excellent at judging distances by eye. However, when a tall man like Strider estimates a distance in fathoms, he would probably be referencing man-lengths.
Greening up nicely. At this point on the path you almost expect to meet Gimli the dwarf coming around the corner…
My novel The Spyders of Burslem features the last of the ‘cunning’ men, Jimmy Tunnicliffe, at the end of the 1860s. I’m pleased to discover that there was a real if rather more upmarket equivalent to Jimmy Tunnicliffe in Burslem and, by the looks of it, at more or less about the right time. Evidently there was a ‘Botanic Institute’ herbalist on The Sytch (which also appears in the novel), by the name of Ree Dar or Reedar.
If he could get out to country patients (see the bottom of the flyer) evidently he kept a horse and gig. Which would make sense, since he would also need to have a means of getting out of Stoke to gather herbs in their season. Though such people also had ‘gatherers’ I seem to recall.
A new article on Darwin & Shropshire’s Geology. Unmentioned in the article is his strong connection with Maer Hall, just over the border in Staffordshire. One can imagine him whipping out his magnifying-glass to scrutinise the micro-ferns and beetles of this magnificent wall at the end of the driveway there, for instance…
This post is now superseded by my The Man in the Moon 3.0
A couple of Jack Simcock pictures are currently on eBay, albeit at ridiculous prices. But there are very nice photos of the pictures, which allow you to see the fine surface details.
Phil Bell’s ‘The Disc of Cad Goddeu’, fashioned from Rowan wood during the famous ‘Battle of the Trees’, allegedly.
More Facebook changes today. Shortly after the move to the new UI they had it perfect, apart from the annoying and utterly pointless “See more…” click-iness. They had saved themselves, after the Great Exodus.
But now they’re slowing starting to ruin it again, with more changes. They’re also soon to push more work on Group admins through regrettable back-end changes.
The latest change today is to huge ‘blaring’ images. These now overpower the text and links, and make it difficult to concentrate on these. The new ultra-wide central column now also makes it more difficult to read across the text. With this and the very unwelcome Group changes coming, I’m definitely considering taking all my Groups over to an amalgamated WordPress blog. Most likely with a newspaper-like template. By which I mean an old-school news newspaper, not one of the modern hives of clickbait and pop-ups. Though perhaps not quite this old-school.
It’s surprisingly difficult to use search to cut through the ocean of robo-made shovelware templates, but Gabfire’s old $60 WP Newspaper (aka Advanced Newspaper, or Advanced WordPress Newspaper) theme is still a classic and now in v3.6. Here blurred and inverted so you can see the basic structure and how it might look with a Dark Mode on it…
Twelve ‘lost things’ from Stoke:
1. Aurochs. Giant prehistoric wild cattle which survived to the Roman period, a skull of which was discovered in diggings at Etruria and is in the Potteries Museum.
2. The old Roman Road, through Wolstanton to where the current Stoke train station is. Though some of Rykeneld Street is likely still there, underground.
3. ‘The Lost Painting of Longton’. Robert Bateman’s large major oil painting “Saul and the Witch of Endor” was given to the city and was last heard of in Longton Town Hall in the early 1950s.
4. The vanished railway line from Stoke railway station to Newcastle-under-Lyme, which went through over 700 yards of tunnels to get there and went on the town of Market Drayton. Also the Potteries Loop Line around the city, though much of that now survives as off-road bicycle paths.
5. The old-style ‘very broad’ Potteries Dialect, now almost extinct.
6. The Etruria Woods, of which only remnants and re-growths now remain. One might also include the vast 55-mile long Lyme barrier-forest from the Norman era, which gave its name to Burslem.
7. The vast network of modern deep-mining tunnels. Now flooded, they run mostly from around Forest Park across the valley to Wolstanton.
8. Trentham Hall, offered to the Council as a miners’ hospital but unwanted and thus largely demolished. But the Gardens and Estate are now thriving.
9. Wedgwood’s secret glazes, for making pottery. When H.G. Wells was living in the Potteries, he roomed with a school-fellow who had the job of trying to reconstruct these secrets from the old dried-out glaze-pots in the cellars of Etruria Hall.
10. Folklore and old local tales, of which only fragments remain. Also related customs, such as the annual Hanley Venison Feast.
11. The North Staffordshire Field Club. Once one of the largest and well-patronised in the nation, with amateurs researching everything from local history and geology to local insects and birds. Like a burst seed-pod, it eventually withered away after giving life to a great many individual specialist groups.
12. The Trubshaw Cross at Longport. In the 1620s said to be the terminus of “a great passage out of the north parts unto diverse market towns”, serving the packhorse teams that bore the industries of the Peak (sheep-fleeces, metals etc) to Newcastle-under-Lyme and thence to the good roads that ran north and south. By the 1840s only the stone base of the cross, likely of “Saxon origin”, remained.