Saturday 26 November 2011

NOVEMBER WINDS....

On the night of 26th November, the gale force winds that had swept over Britain for a week reached a climax. Winds travelling at an estimated 120 mph blew down buildings and carried people and animals through the air. Gusts uprooting over four-thousand oak trees in the New Forest alone.


The gales first struck the West Country causing widespread flooding in the Bristol area. In nearby Wells, Bishop Richard Kidder and his wife were killed when two chimney stacks collapsed on them while they slept. On land, over one-hundred people lost their lives, but the death toll was much higher at sea with many thousands dying: the Royal Navy lost thirteen ships and over fifteen-hundred men.

In London, the winds tore the roof off Westminster Abbey and many other churches lost their towers and spires. A row of houses near Moorfields collapsed and around seven-hundred ships in the docks were crushed into each other. The Queen took refuge in the basement of St. James Palace while part of its roof collapsed.

The storm abated the following morning, but strong winds continued to blow until 2nd December. 



The Queen concerned was Queen Anne, and the year....1703! 


Although sitting in my flat over the last few days, it could be Elizabeth and 2011!

13 comments:

  1. Is it that bad there Tris? Windy here but nothing exceptional - yet.

    We were snowed round about this time last year if I remember. Thankfully no sign of a similar situation - yet.

    Maybe it's because I bought winter tyres. :)

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  2. It is persisting down here and the wind is howling beautifully...but I don't think it can be compared to 1703 but theres the bright side to look on...theres time yet eh!

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  3. Tis globular warming. I've sent my fastest Knight, Sir Huhne of hooniness and straightener of bent wenches, to slay the CO2 devil with his trusty lance.

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  4. Ye should've seen the state o ma hair efter ah'd done ma messages! It wis like a tinker's midden so it wis...

    Ah cannae mind the 1703 off-hand, but January 69 ah dae mind, oh that wis a wild night, ah thocht we were aw gettin blawn awa... mind it wis lovely smellin aw the soot the next mornin fae aw the dooned chimney-pots. mmmm... soot...

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  5. Sophia, what a welcome and lovely surprise to have you back with us again. Hope you are in the pink and fully recovered from your hang-over - must have been some party. Look forward to more of your superb tales.

    We had an almost summer-like two days here last week but since then the cold winds from civilisation have been blowing up until today. As a new member of the JP staff I blame the SNP personally and both Iains Gray and McMillan agree!

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  6. Hullo John, ah'm fine thanks, an yer guid yersel ah hope? Ah'm still a bit green roond the gills, but that's jist ma colourin, ma mither wis the exact same, ridd, ridd hair an green gills...

    Ah can hear that wind gettin up again oot there, an ah can feel ma hoose shooglin, when ye bide up a stair ye jist learn tae hing oan...

    ...hing oan tae yer knick-knacks, here comes anither yin...

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  7. Yep SR... Pretty bad, but it's not really a cold wind, in fact it's pretty warm, so ''a'things mixed wi' mercy'' as Grandmama would say.

    I think it was the 28th last year when the world came to an end... but bless you for buying winter tyres. We'll probably have a barbecue winter as a result!

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  8. Yep, just like 1703, it's set to blow into the beginning of December, nomine, so there's plenty time.

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  9. May it please Your Majesty, I fear thou hast chosen badly ma'am, but Your Majesty's humble servant knows how little in the way of talent Your Majesty has at her disposal.

    I fear that Sir Huhne was the scoundrel Your Majesty sent to negotiate with the Scottish Parliament and buy them off in 1707.

    He made all speed to Your majesty's northern Realms, ma'am, although he insisted that it was coachman who held the reigns.

    Your humble servant would humbly suggest that, as a Whig, the bold as brass knight would be more likely to be a bender of straight wenches...

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  10. Sophia Pangloss:

    What can I say? You cannot believe how happy I am you see your name and hear your news...

    As John says, the length of that hangover indicated that it was one hell of a good party. No wonder Harvey's Bristol Cream shares are doing well.

    Soot? Aye well, I suppose in Auld Reekie there would be an abundance of soot, and I suppose you can get, erm, fond of anything.

    I hope your house holds out and doesn't shoogle too much that you skale yer drink...and above all I hope that you won't leave so long until your next visits to Munguin.

    I've got a half bottle of Croft's Original in specially.

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  11. Your probably right, John.

    As Iain McMillan says, it's a big step to take, walking away from donating all that money to England.

    We wouldn't want an impoverished country on our southern flank.

    And that statesman like leader fellow Iain Gray? Well, he's just so inspiring, whether in the deft way that he exits stations stage left at the mere sign of protesters, or the deft wya he exits ASDAs stage right when he sees Alex Salmond... Versatile man... but he's a bit mixed up with his left and his right.

    Oh, I nearly forgot, and that we man that was out in Afghanistan fighting along side the troops, and and getting to know what they want, what motivates them and... all in a hour or so.

    His name is on the tip of my tongue... a good place for an indigestion remedy... There, got it...Wullie Bisodol.

    PS: What do you think about Auntie Annabel's makeover? I preferred her the way she was. Much nicer.

    Good to have our Sophia back though, doncha think?

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  12. I thought he had caught ringworm tris which can be quite nasty for most humans but political parasites are maybe immune. There has been a fair breeze and we even had white ground for a few hours yesterday but with temps into double figures at the moment caused by that bloody referendum unknown unknown.:)

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  13. They seem to be immune to most things CH.

    Yes, goodness, if only there weren't the uncertainty of a referendum hanging over us, everything would be wonderful. The birds would sing in a clear blue sky and it would be forever springtime...

    ...and David Cameron would be prime minister for life...


    arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

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