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2001-11-16 - 5:07 a.m. U.K. Day 4: Tony of the Tower Today we spent at the Tower of London, which is a misleading name for the place. It did start as one Norman keep tower (the White Tower), but over the centuries it's evolved into a series of towers and walls surrounding the original keep, so it's now a huge complex which has housed everything from condemned prisoners to elephants to gunpowder. Best way to visit the tower - buy tickets in the Tube station to avoid the lines (I mean - the queue) at the Tower, go early and take the Yeoman Warder tour. Our guide was Tony, They call me Tony, Tony of the Tower, because the tower is my home... The Yeoman Warders (called Beefeaters for reasons not even they understand) man Her Majesty's Palace and live there year round. Tony relished the more gruesome bits of history, taking great pleasure in explaining hung, drawn and quartered in grisly detail. (Remember, hanging didn't kill you immediately until the invention of the trapdoor scaffold - see old Western movies - created a sudden jerk which snapped your neck.) Executions of Tower prisoners usually took place publicly on Tower Hill. However, they held six private executions in the tower, including traitors such as Queen Anne Boelyn, Lady Jane Grey and the Earl of Essex. Did you know you had to pay for your own execution? You climbed the scaffold and handed over a fist full of gold to pay the axe-man. Seems hopeless macabre, but you want to pay well because you wanted them to strike quickly and give you a painless death. To qualify for a position as a Tower Warder you must retire from Her Majesty's forces (I think as a Sergeant Major) after a long career. As a result, the Yeomen are all excellent public speakers and Tony was the best of the lot. We bought his Tower stories on CD, which will make for good listening on the drive northward to Scotland. We saw the Crown Jewels, of course, which are so opulent they don't look real. Then we trooped through the White Tower, climbed through the armory where Rob happily took many, many pictures. But let's talk about me. (grin) I found a new painting of the Field of Cloth of Gold (1520 tournament/diplomatic meeting) and a tournament lance dating from 1560. It's my obsession, I understand this. The lance was hollow to reduce weight, tipped a' outrance and fluted on the outside to reduce the weight even further. The lance pinched in to a skinny handhold then widened out again. The clever bit it just as it widened on the butt end, there's a strip of leather. You place the butt end on the lance rests (bits on tournament armor that look like a flip out hinge on the breastplate) and the leather strip thickens it enough that it catches on the rest and prevents the lance from sliding under your arm on impact. The hollow lances were also designed to splinter magnificently (keep you visor down, Henry VIII almost lost an eye to his brother-in-law in the jousts - you SCAdians take a moment to appreciate the non-splintery qualities of rattan.) when a successful hit was scored. The Medieval palace is just too nifty. This dates from the time of Edward I, and they've tried to restore it to 14th century. The first couple rooms are left in their original states with archaeological displays showing the basis of the recreation. The next two rooms have been redecorated 14th century style - a reception area and the throne room, using manuscripts and copying existing furniture pieces from the time. They have costumed re-enactors staffing the place and they know their stuff. Eventually, when I'm quizzing them on why their trestle table is too sturdy, we had to admit we were also re-enactors. Had a splendid conversation for about 20 minutes. In the corner of the armory stood two wooden statues, each in Elizabeth dress, with a slight grin, each holding a tankard. Tradition has it they stood next to the buttery, where libations were stored and the pieces are known as 'Gin' and 'Beer'. Reminded me a lot of Alan and Bob, standing there quietly in the corner with a nice dram or pint. There are, of course, ravens in the Tower. As the legend goes, if the ravens ever leave the Tower, the walls will crumble and England will fall. So they keep seven ravens in the Tower - ravens with clipped wings because they aren't willing to take any chances. Trivia question - what do they call a flock of ravens? Apparently, ravens roost in huge flocks during mating season and are traditionally bad parents, so the flock is called an 'unkindness of. ravens'. What this heralds for House Corvus, I don't know ... KIDDING, I'm KIDDING.. The Tower is an awesome visit, but you do need most of the day. We finished about 3ish and went back to Beth's to relax . We dragged her away from work and took the Tube to Victoria station to pick up our rental car. (I mean hire a car.) Much paperwork later where they try to scare/intimidate you into buying all the extra rental insurance, we head out, Rob driving a stick shift through Central London traffic. Beth assigned the driving work thus: Rob, driver. Beth, navigator. Wendy, yell left and turn shallow. I finally figured out this means I channel Gen, with a few extra phrases thrown in.
Rob's amazing. Isn't he splendid? What a great city driver! Stay on the left, stay on the left. Rob's our hero! Okay, turn shallow, stay on the left. ... I did my job credibly and Rob did a magnificent job salmoning through London traffic. We made it back to Beth's neighborhood - parked the car in her secret place (you'll have to come visit to learn the trick) - and toddled down the street for a splendid feast of Indian food. Now, we are going to attempt to identify her mystery bottle from the Single Malt Whisky Society. � � � 
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