The Astronomer Royal delivered his promised Full Moons on September 7th and October 5th and served up our highest tides of the year…4.3 metres…at midnight three days later. A 4.2 tide comes with the November Moon on Guy Fawkes Day three weeks hence. But we end our Year of Non-Climate Change with a modest 3.7 on Luciadagen.

England’s Climate and Energy Politics by William Shepherd is now ready for digital publication on Guy Fawkes Day 2006. It is 35 000 words, 172-pages and 172x100x12mm in its present cesc publications format. For comparison the size of my 1987 Penguin edition of George Orwell’s Down & Out in Paris & London is 182x112x15mm.

It has been a busy week for indolent Journeyman Tenors. On Tuesday afternoon I was drafted into the Winchelsea Singers’ production of Gilbert & Sullivan’s The Pirates of Penzance for 3rd and 4th November as Samuel…the Pirate King’s sidekick. The bad news is that this gives me some lines to learn…singing and speaking…by Tuesday. The good news is I get to grab Kate and take her for my wife…against my will Pappa…against my will. Yeah! Sure!

On Saturday 21/10 Simply Opera will be presenting an evening of music from Mozart to Broadway at St Mary’s Church in Rye which meant rehearsals on Tuesday evening and Sunday afternoon this week. Ryesingers’ February performance of Gilbert & Sullivan’s Princess Ida is now in rehearsal on Wednesday evenings. And yesterday Ryesingers treated themselves to a celebration party for their 35th anniversary…complete with After Dinner Cabaret. All this together with Paddy Harvey’s Sixtieth Birthday Celebration today made for a busy social calendar this week.

Everyone enjoyed last night’s party at the Rye Community Centre. There were about sixty of us there. One of our own did the catering. Françoise de Naillat joined me for the evening…motoring back and forth to Rye from her weekend of Glass-making in Rochester to join her Ryesingers friends. I spent ten pounds during the week getting kitted out at Rye Charity Shops…and then led the newly-formed Rye Barber Shop Quartet in their first ever stage performance.

Our Barber Shop Quartet came on towards the end of Ryesingers’ sixty minute programme which included a very witty rendering of Cinderella in monosyllables…the story is not complicated. It had everyone in stitches of laughter. Nobody knew the script-writer…but John Cleese, Ronnie Barker or Tony Hancock’s scriptwriters Galton & Simpson would have been pleased to claim the credit. Pam Peters…who plays Ruth the Pirate Maid of all Work in The Pirates of Penzance…also brought the house down with her Joyce Grenvillesque monologue.

The Ryesingers’ Cabaret was thrown together in three weeks. I had long harboured Barber Shop ambitions and an hour Googling turned up a one-minute MP3 snippet on the Cambridge Chord Company website of an arrangement of The Teddy Bear’s Picnic by their Musical Director Paul Davies.

A short flurry of e-mails and I had the sheet music in my hands…acquired in exchange for my promise to contribute to Chord Company funds. Drafting in Elspeth on piano was the next step…an unaccompanied stage appearance would have been reckless. But the big hurdle was getting the recruits to their first rehearsal…and commitment. Singers are invariably overcommitted.

It is hard to know how well you do in these situations. My ambition went no further than getting the four of us up on stage at the appointed hour. We followed the Teddy Bears with Gee Officer Krupke from West Side Story…a preview from the Simply Opera programme…and left the stage before the applause died away. But by eleven o’clock the audience were well enough inebriated to have clapped anything by David Peart, Andrew Hewitt and Ian Perry.

Everyone enjoyed themselves enormously so the evening must be rated a great success. Upon reflection it is hard to banish the Grumpy Old Man thought that this was the way things were in the Good Old Days when I was a boy…well a generation earlier than that…when there were no radios, televisions or MP3 Players and people made their own entertainment.

Dylan Thomas’s A Child’s Christmas in Wales gives some of the flavour of these old ways. We have lost more than we realise…notwithstanding the warnings from the likes of J.B.Priestley…in Lost Empires for instance. Perhaps these Good Old Days will return in my lifetime…hopefully by choice and not necessity.

French Imperialism has not had a very good press over the past century. Their losses in the 1914-1918 Kaiser War makes the 2003-2007 Iraq conflict seem nothing more than a skirmish. After that their decision to avoid the Hitler War was understandable.

Besides their five-year insurgency from 1940 to 1945…the French Resistance…was crucial to the Allied Victory. Our 20th Century imperial wars were not quite as world-wide as modern historians pretend. The English Monied Classes may have had their Trading World at stake. But they lost it to the Americans anyway.

On balance I am a Chamberlain man. Run away. Live to fight another day. It was not really a European war either as Spain, Sweden and Ireland kept their troops in barracks for the duration.

Peace was nearly chosen in 1941 after the debacle of Dunkerque. Ironically in view of the subsequent Bush-Blair Axis of Evil in Iraq it was the Labour Party members of Churchill’s Coalition Cabinet who backed him to carry on fighting. The Conservatives were for Peace.

But the French have their past glories…and will doubtless have their future ones. Losing the bid for the 2012 Olympic Games shows Great Statesmanship. One of these Old Glories was the Battle of Yena where they routed the Prussians. Today they were busy re-enacting the Grand Occasion with a mock battle. They won again.

On this day 940 years ago (minus the lost eleven days of 1741)…and you thought losing an hour each spring was a problem…the French were in action again. Today the Battle of Hastings was re-enacted a few miles along the coast from us here in Rye. The French won and toppled the best Royal Dynasty we ever had…King Cnut of England and Denmark. We took revenge in 1944 when Our Hordes of Noble Hooligans stormed the beaches of Normandy.

One of the few pieces of history every child in this country knows is the death of King Harold II in 1066. Unfortunately the only bit they know is probably wrong. The evidence of the arrow in the eye comes from the Bayeaux Tapestry where the wording ‘here Harold is killed’ extends above a soldier with an arrow in his eye and a man falling from a sword wound to his leg. Such a terrible wound would more likely kill a man outright through shock or by piercing into the brain. But we know Harold continued to fight until he was decapitated.

Chelsea Football Club play at Stamford Bridge…named after the place of King Harold’s victory over his brother Tostig who had invaded under the banner of the King of Norway Harold Hardrada. Many battles in history hang in the balance until some slight shift in fortune favours the victorious combatant. The Battle of Hastings appears to fall into this category. Harold was so close to victory that William must be regarded as extremely lucky.

But William’s biggest slice of luck was the absence of English Cavalry in Hastings. Harold almost certainly used cavalry at the Battle of Stamford Bridge and rode them on his march north. Infantry could not have maintained that pace and fought immediately upon arrival. The widespread historians’ declaration that the Saxons only fought on foot is nonsense.

Warhorses were bred and highly valued…as many wills of the time attest. Harold’s shield wall knew how to take off a horse’s head with one axe blow. Ann Hyland in The Medieval Warhorse has come up with the most likely explanation. King Harold’s incredible forced march north and back again had taken its toll on the horses. Those that had survived the battlefield in Yorkshire were probably lame or exhausted. Harold had to do without them.

After 1066 most references to King Harold were obliterated or ignored. His title in the Domesday Book reverts to Earl Harold. Harold’s mother Gytha fled to Flanders; his brother Wulfnoth remained in captivity in Normandy for over thirty years…he was never to return to England. Harold’s sons by Edyth Swannhaels tried to raise a rebellion but were repulsed and fled abroad. William was either too feared or had settled himself too tightly to be dislodged.

One of Harold’s four sons…Edmund or Magnus…died during a raid probably on Bristol. Ulf, the youngest, was imprisoned by William. Harold’s daughter Gunnhild remained at Wilton Nunnery. But Algytha…the second of his three daughters…travelled to Smolensk…perhaps with her surviving brothers…to marry the Russian prince Vladimir who in effect became the first Tsar of Russia. Their first-born son was known in the Danish world as Harold.

Algytha died on 7 May 1107. Her great-grandson was King Vlademar I of Denmark from whom the present royal houses of Denmark and England claim descent. Our future King William V of the House of Windsor will be carrying the blood of the Great King Harold II in his veins…as well as that of William of Normandy.

We the English can choose which strain gets our allegiance. That is the Good News about Monarchy. The Bad News is Pretenders…great hoards of them. I have heard it said with authority that a goodly number of us are descended from King Henry VIII.

Before the French get too cocky about 1066 and All That it is as well to point out that although William of Normandy had himself crowned king and while most of the male English aristocracy were replaced by Normans, the ordinary English…the Saxons…remained English. England was ruled by Normans but never became Norman…which is somewhat of a pity as French might have been my mother tongue…which would have improved my French accent.