A chance to see Frankie Howerd's Bottom

Put your titters away, because I'm talking about Shakespeare. In 1957 Frankie Howerd was invited to appear as Bottom in A Midsummer Night's Dream at the Old Vic.

And very good he was to, at least according to Francis Wyndham in The Queen (7 January 1958):

Some members of the audience may have feared that his gift for gagging might interfere with the sacred text; others, that his comic genius might be constrained within the limitations of a classic. 

On the first night he struck a happy medium, under-acting in the rehearsal and Titania scenes but bursting out with hilarious bravado when performing Pyramus before the Duke. This play scene can have seldom been made so funny.

You can see Howerd's Bottom ("Shut your face.") in the video above.

Far down the cast as First Fairy ("And that's an achievement with this lot, I can tell you.") was a young Judi Dench. You can see and hear her below.

We're building walls to separate social and private housing again

The segregation of the classes is back, and it's not done only by price. Here's a report by Jessica Murray and Michael Goodier from the Guardian:

The homes of people in Nunsthorpe, a postwar former council housing estate known locally as “The Nunny”, sit only a few metres away from their more affluent neighbours in Scartho with their conservatories and driveways.

Walking between the two is almost impossible because of a 1.8-metre-high (6ft) barricade between them, which blocks off roads and walkways that link the two areas in Grimsby, Lincolnshire.

Journeys that should only take a few seconds become a 25-minute walk down to the open field on the edge of the estate, or through the grounds of a hospital, to bypass the wall.

When I read that, I remembered that such walls had been put up in the 1930s. And then I saw that Municipal Dreams had posted a couple of examples from his blog on Bluesky.

The first was in Oxford, where in the city council built its Cutteslowe Estate. A couple of its roads joined up with roads on a private estate recently built by private developers, the Urban Housing Company:

The Company alleged council tenants were responsible for vandalism on the private estate. It also claimed that the rehousing of former slum-dwellers on the estate breached an undertaking given by the Council that it wouldn’t be used for this purpose. 

Whatever the (not so) niceties, it’s not hard to see the naked class prejudice and commercial interest that lay behind the Company’s supposed grievances. It erected two-metre high, spiked walls – separating the council homes from their private equivalents – across the connecting streets in December 1934. They forced a 600-metre detour for council estate residents trying to reach the main road.

And the second was in Lewisham, where this was the reaction to the opening of the council's Downham Estate: 

In 1926, a seven-foot high wall capped with broken glass was built across the street to the adjacent private estate, intended to prevent Downham’s residents using the street as a short-cut to Bromley town centre. The wall remained till 1950.

It was worse than that in Oxford where the Cotteslowe Walls lasted until 1959.

But they did come down. Today's society is putting walls up again.

The Joy of Six 1443

"Companies that have collaborated with immigration enforcement agencies in various ways to aid Trump’s mass deportation initiative – whether through allowing ICE to raid their parking lots, taking on contracts with DHS, or a variety of other actions – are starting to feel the rumblings of a consumer revolt." Adrian Carrasquillo says a backlash Is brewing against companies that help Trumps's ICE.

Rowena Mason maps the depressing journey of Motability cuts from right-wing social media to Rachel Reeves' budget.

Matt Simon finds that urban farms and gardens ease food insecurity, boost mental health and create communities.

"Getting Franklin’s story right is crucial, because she has become a role model for women going into science. She was up against not just the routine sexism of the day, but also more subtle forms embedded in science – some of which are still present today." Matthew Cobb and Nathaniel Comfort argue that the role of Rosalind Franklin in the discovery of DNA is still misunderstood.

"By the early 1940s, Watson had also become increasingly uncomfortable about the methods used in dairy and egg production, and so began to exclude all animal-based foodstuffs from his diet." Margaret Brecknell introduces us to Leicester's Donald Watson, the founder of the modern vegan movement.

Frank Collins reviews the 1947 film It Always Rains on Sunday. He says its director, Robert Hamer "seems to have regularly fought a corner for women working in film at Ealing, a studio often criticised for its very male view point of the world, and [Googie] Withers is a strong presence in many of his films.

Lord Bonkers' Diary: Dame Agatha Mousetrap

And so another week at Bonkers Hall draws to a close. It looks like Keir Starmer is in the clear for a while, but I still wouldn't accept any invitations to stay on mysterious islands off the Devon coast if I were in his shoes.

Sunday

These days every television celebrity thinks he’s Dame Agatha Mousetrap, but there’s more to the whodunnit-writing game than meets the eye. I once had a shot at it myself; all went well until I sat down to pen the final chapter, only to find I had not included a butler among the cast of characters and thus had no murderer to reveal. 

My reason for mentioning this is that if the prime minister has been knifed by this own party by the time you read this, it will be like Murder on the Orient Express. They’ll all have had a go at him.

Lord Bonkers was Liberal MP for Rutland South West, 1906-10.

Earlier this week

• One of Violent Bonham Carter’s boys
• A phone number for the Overton-Window twins
• "I’ll fetch you one up the bracket"
• A young Marines officer called Ashdown
• A strange episode
• He should ask an eagle to do it

J.W. Logan left an estate worth £13m in today's money

My hero J.W. Logan – nicknamed "Paddy Logan" for his strong support for Irish home rule – died in 1925. He had been Liberal MP for Harborough from 1891 to 1904 and from 1910 to 1916.

He left, reported the London Daily Chronicle (Monday 21 September 1925), an estate of £167,159.

According to an online inflation calculator, £100 in 1925 is worth £7,769.23 today. So, after consulting the University of Rutland's celebrated Department of Hard Sums, I can reveal that Logan left an estate worth almost £13m.

No wonder he was able to provide Market Harborough with swimming baths and sports and recreation grounds. He also bought the local paper to ensure good coverage for the Liberals - what Nick Gibb would call "impartial" coverage.

The Daily Chronicle report lists some annuities that Logan bequeathed to his staff, among them his gardener.

My suspicion is that Lord Bonkers has made similarly generous provision for Meadowcroft in his will, but is determined to become immortal – all those trips to Hebden Bridge to bathe in the spring of immortal life that bursts from the ground below the former headquarters of the Association of Liberal Councillors and all those bottle of cordial he buys from the Elves of Rockingham Forest – so it is never paid out.

Magistrate Dr Delicate censured for swearing

BBC News wins our Headline of the Day Award.

The good doctor's response was a bit "I'm sorry if you feel you've been sworn at":

Dr Delicate, who hitherto had a five-year unblemished record, apologised "if such behaviour occurred", and said some of her actions may have been misinterpreted.

Lord Bonkers' Diary: He should ask an eagle to do it

On Friday it was Peter the Painter: today it's Gandalf the Grey. You meet all sorts in Rutland.

It sounds as though Meadowcroft would have seen eye-to-eye with Hugo Dyson. Legend has it that he responded to Tolkien reading something from Lord of the Rings at a meeting of the Inklings in an Oxford pub by groaning "Oh fuck, not another elf."

Saturday

On Bonfire Night I was accosted at the village firework display by a white-bearded fellow who claimed to be a wizard. He said they were looking for a couple of chaps to trek into eastern Rutland and drop a ring into a crack that led to the earth’s molten core. Did, he asked, yours truly and my gardener fancy the job? He could guarantee that the gardener would get to meet an elf. 

I’m afraid I gave him both barrels, pointing out that the existence of a pothole that deep reflected poorly on the ward councillor. I added that I had tried taking a holiday with Meadowcroft, but he had done nothing but complain that he had to sit at the rear of the tandem and I wasn’t going to repeat the experiment. As to meeting elves, Meadowcroft was often be found chasing them out his herbaceous borders with a broom. 

My advice was that, if he was so keen to have a ring dropped down the dashed hole, he should ask an eagle to do it.

Lord Bonkers was Liberal MP for Rutland South West, 1906-10.

Earlier this week

• One of Violent Bonham Carter’s boys
• A phone number for the Overton-Window twins
• "I’ll fetch you one up the bracket"
• A young Marines officer called Ashdown
• A strange episode

Marianne Faithfull: Sunny Goodge Street

This is beautiful. Sunny Goodge street is a cover of a Donovan song and appeared on Marianne Faithfull's album 1966 North Country Maid. 

The Marianne Faithfull site says of it:

Marianne’s two folk albums from the 60's were conceived as a pair. Where her first folk album Come My Way, had largely been compiled from music of the American folk revival, Marianne’s second, released in April 1966 was built around songs from the British Isles. 

Rightly hailed as her finest LP of the 60s, North Country Maid conclusively established her as an artist with a unique stylistic approach, and many of its songs (such as Scarborough Fair) were not yet the established folk/pop standards they would soon become.

I recently learnt that Donovan lived in St Albans before fame came calling, and was part of the city's music scene along with the youthful Zombies and Maddy Prior.

You can hear Maddy Prior talking about those days on a recent Word in Your Ear podcast.

A portrait of Tom Stoppard (1937-2025)

Embed from Getty Images

The playwright Tom Stoppard died today. There will be plenty of obituaries, but there is a good portrait of him in this Guardian interview from two years ago (to the day) by Claire Armitstead:

Tom Stoppard is chatting in the theatre bar when I arrive to interview him about a revival of his play Rock ’n’ Roll. He was comparing ailments with an elderly director friend, he says cheerfully, as he heads up the stairs, having declined an offer of the lift. At 86 he has the nonchalant elegance of a spy in a cold war thriller, lean and mop-haired in a discreetly expensive-looking coat.

Though Stoppard is feted around the world for some of the cleverest plays of the last 60 years, as well as the Oscar-winning screenplay for Shakespeare in Love, he is more gossipy than grand. “I said to him,” he reports of the conversation from which he has just been dragged away, “I’m being interviewed by the Guardian in half an hour and it’s supposed to be about Rock ’n’ Roll, but I’m going to have to have an opinion about Gaza, aren’t I?”

Being canvassed for opinions comes with the territory for a playwright whose identity straddles two of the biggest faultlines of 20th century history. His most recent play, Leopoldstadt, was a monumental reckoning with a Jewish heritage of which he only became aware in middle age. It ended with Leo, one of three survivors of a mighty dynasty, returning after the war to a Vienna of which he had no memory, having adopted his stepfather’s surname and lived in England since infancy.

Stoppard himself settled in England and adopted his stepfather’s name when he was eight, though his early childhood was spent not in Austria but Czechoslovakia. Rock ’n’ Roll, which premiered at the Royal Court in 2006, contains a different reckoning: what if, instead of getting remarried to an Englishman after the death of Stoppard’s doctor father in the war against Japan, his mother had returned to Soviet Czechoslovakia with him and his brother? 

“I thought I could write a play which was about myself as I imagined my life might have been from the age of eight,” he says. “And then I would find out whether I was brave enough to be a dissenter, or just somebody who would keep his head down and his nose clean. And I have a terrible feeling that it would have been the latter.”

In 2020 the same paper published a review by Stefan Collini of Hermione Lee's biography of Stoppard:

Although Stoppard’s plays can seem like the distillation of several course-loads of reading lists, he didn’t go to university. Instead, at 17 he started work as a reporter on a local newspaper in Bristol. 

What he lacked in experience he seems to have made up for in chutzpah: he got himself made the paper’s motoring correspondent without revealing that he couldn’t drive. Increasingly, he wrote theatre reviews, and then followed his dream by giving up his job, moving to London, and writing plays.

Lord Bonkers' Diary: A strange episode

Was Peter the Painter at the Siege of Sydney Street? Did he survive it? Was he still alive in Rutland this summer? It's possible, if he stumped up for the potion the Elves of Rockingham Forest sell.

Anyway, as the old boy says, it was a strange episode.

Friday

When I heard a few months ago that they had an “artist in residence” at Belvoir Castle, I determined at once that no Duke of Rutland was going to outdo the Bonkers. I telephoned Joshua Reynolds and Freddie van Mierlo to see if they were interested in the gig, but both told me they were too busy. Then, or so I thought, fate dealt me an ace. 

I was putting the world to rights in the Bonkers Arms that very evening, when someone introduced me to a foreign fellow by the name of “Peter the Painter”. Naturally, I engaged him on the spot and told him to turn up at the hall with his brushes the next morning. 

When he did, I was disappointed to find that he was a house painter. Nevertheless, he proved useful, tackling various jobs about the Estate. He had Advanced Views, but I’ve always found anarchists to be good company – unlike the average Labour MP – so I was happy to discuss politics with him over dinner. And then one morning he was gone, leaving a barn half painted. A strange episode.

Lord Bonkers was Liberal MP for Rutland South West, 1906-10.

Earlier this week

• One of Violent Bonham Carter’s boys
• A phone number for the Overton-Window twins
• "I’ll fetch you one up the bracket"
• A young Marines officer called Ashdown

Susan Stranks on appearing in the 1949 film of The Blue Lagoon

Talking Pictures screened the 1980 film The Blue Lagoon the other evening. It was an adaptation of the 1908 novel of the same name by Henry De Vere Stacpoole, which tells the story of a boy and girl marooned on a desert island. Nature takes its course, as nature will, and they grow up to have a baby.

The Talking Pictures screening reminded me that The Blue Lagoon was previously adapted for the screen in 1949. This was a British production, and the girl (played as a young adult by Jean Simmons) was played by Susan Stranks, who grew up to be a presenter of Magpie, ITV's would-be rival to Blue Peter.

And Susan Stranks can been seen talking about her experience of making the film in this British Film Institute video from 2021.

I was going to make a joke about the British children never taking their school uniforms off, but in fact our films were noticeably more relaxed about That Sort of Thing than was Hollywood in the Forties. In the Fifties, not so much.

Oh no! Here comes a minor celeb from a Channel 4 clips show of 20 years ago.

Minor celeb from a Channel 4 clips show of 20 years ago: We watched Magpie. Blue Peter was for posh kids.

Liberal England replies: Clear off.

The Joy of Six 1442

"The costed tax rises at £26bn are remarkably similar to the £27bn tax increases proposed in the Lib Dems manifesto last year. ... This would suggest that the macro management of the economy is broadly going in the direction we would want, although the methods aren’t necessarily of our choosing (insert gag about Morecambe & Wise and André Previn here)." Matthew Pennell gives a Liberal verdict on the budget.

Diane Ray reveals the chronic miseducation of working-class children: 'As one Head of English in an academy told me in 2023: “if you are working class and in the lower sets for English you have no access to books, novels, poetry or plays, but rather a daily grind of basic literacy worksheets'."

Waterlooville was labelled a "dystopian zombie drama" in 2024, but the Liberal Democrats have turned it around, says the Local Government Association Lib Dem group.

"Researchers from the Museum of London Archaeology are tracing the history of human habitation on the banks of the River Thames through strategic trial pits and boreholes. As evidenced by the flints, the land today occupied by the Palace of Westminster was once a gravelly island called Thorney Island that prehistoric communities used to fish, hunt, and gather food." Richard Whiddington reports from beneath the Palace of Westminster.

Tim Pelan on John Huston's 1975 film The Man Who Would be King: "The pleasure of the film is the old-fashioned exotic-seeming sensibility of the setting, harking back to classic old adventures like Lives of the Bengal Lancers and Gunga Din, but with the acerbic undercutting of white colonial arrogance."

Oxford Clarion presents an invaluable guide to the university's college cats. (I like cats because they don't use unnecessary commas or award themselves unearned MAs.)

Lord Bonkers' Diary: A young Marines officer called Ashdown

It's hard to imagine Emlyn Hooson or Nancy Seear playing the shots that led to England's demise in the Perth test. Perhaps they should abandon Bazball and turn to Jezball instead.

Thursday

Talking of cricket, as we were, I remember the early years of the limited-overs game when the Liberal Party XI turned the world upside down by scoring at the then-unthinkable rate of three runs an over. The lobby correspondents dubbed our approach "Jezball" in tribute to our new leader Jeremy Thorpe. 

Our outstanding results owed much to a young Marines officer called Ashdown who proved equally adept at illicitly obtaining the opposition’s batting order before the toss and, if they threatened a successful run chase, at kidnapping their lower middle order. I often wonder what became of him.

Lord Bonkers was Liberal MP for Rutland South West, 1906-10.

Earlier this week

• One of Violent Bonham Carter’s boys
• A phone number for the Overton-Window twins
• "I’ll fetch you one up the bracket"

GUEST POST Understanding the views and worries of the city of Oxford Lib Dem

William Lane has discovered a new political category: the Oxford Liberal Democrat. Who is she and what does she want from us?

It was with great interest that I read the latest piece from Rose Runswick over at the New Model Liberal blog, as it made an excellent case that the Lib Dems have exhausted their potential pool of Tory–Lib crossover voters. This is a point I have also made in the past, but I refrained then from recommending a subsequent shift in the party’s approach as I am not a Lib Dem member. 

Things have changed, however, and it’s clear from rumblings online that many Lib Dem members are not happy with being stuck on 15 per cent of the vote, and are looking with slightly jealous eyes at the Greens' current poll surge. There seems to be an appetite among Britain’s liberals for a change in direction. 

So how do I suggest the Lib Dems expand their appeal? Well, to be clear I don;t think that lies in a populist turn à la Polanski. For one thing the existing Lib Dem voter base would hate it, and for another I’m unconvinced this new populist direction will actually benefit the Greens in the long term.

Personally, I think the answer to that question lies in analysing their existing voter base. It was @Amrk on Bluesky who introduced me the concepts of "Devon Lib Dems" and "Twickenham Lib Dems", terms which immediately gelled with me as someone who grew up in the liberalising South East from 1996–2014, and has met liberal voters in both camps. For those unfamiliar with these terms, I will loosely define them now:

Devon Lib Dems: Independently minded small l liberal voters, of the type that used to be called "nonconformist". They usually live in villages or rural towns, and work in small, domestic-facing businesses or agriculture. These liberals tend towards localism, often take an interest in local history and folklore, and tend to identify heavily with their region.

These voters were the backbone of the 20th-century Liberal Party. They are often found in rural areas of the UK, including the South West of England, the Scottish Highlands and the Welsh countryside (although there they tend to vote for Plaid Cymru).

Twickenham Lib Dems: Successful, liberally minded voters who 40 years ago would have been liberal Tories. Instinctively liberal and internationalist, but focused on economic issues, these voters are often current or former business owners or well-paid private sector workers. They tend towards being well-off homeowners, although this category is increasingly including middle-income, frustrated private renters.

These voters are the spiritual successors to the prosperous middle class that made the 19th century Liberal Party such a dominant force, and whose move to the Tories in the 1920s sealed its fate as a major party. Their move back towards liberalism has been a major (and underdiscussed) feature of British politics since the early 1990s.

So, if these are the two main types of existing Lib Dem voter, how can the party move beyond them? The clue is in the increasing numbers of frustrated middle-income voters turning to the Lib Dems.

Here I will introduce my own concept, the "Oxford Lib Dem".

The Oxford Lib Dem is a white-collar private sector worker, living in a prosperous area of the country but struggling with stagnant wages and high rent. She may have a background in the upper working/lower middle class, but through education has gained a place in the solidly middle classes, either through traditional service industries (law, consulting) or Britain’s new growth industries (biosciences, tech). 

Probably somewhere between 27 and 45, she is staunchly anti-Conservative but either suspicious of or despondent with Labour, while being too business-minded to be tempted by the Greens. She shares the internationalist focus of the Twickenham Lib Dem, but lacks their wealth and background. Similarly, she agrees with the Devon Lib Dem on the importance of place and local area, but values her life in a prosperous urban town or small city.

As you may have guessed reading this, this voter is an amalgamation of people I know personally from my experiences living and travelling in prosperous parts of the country like York, Surrey, Clapham and Oxford. Although lovely places to live in, these areas combine a high cost of living with often stagnant wages for early-to-middle white-collar workers, leading to a constant drumbeat of anxiety around inflation and the prospect of job loss. 

This quite possibly led our voter to opt for Labour in 2024, but she will have been disappointed since then. Given that she will never vote Conservative or Reform, and will be put off by the overtly left politics of Polanski, she is a prime target  for Lib Dem strategists. Winning her over could be the key to finally breaking out of the 15 per cent vote ceiling the Lib Dems seem stuck under, and finally getting up to 20 per cent of the vote.

However, I must inject a note of caution here. One of the greatest desires of our Oxford Lib Dem is to get out of the hated private renting market, and into her own home. This sets her apart from our other two kinds of Lib Dem, for whom housing is less of a concern. While our Oxford Lib Dem is probably not a YIMBY in the political sense, she does support housebuilding, bringing down house prices and greater infrastructure development. 

Appealing to this voter would mean taking the Young Liberal approach to development, which could anger some existing Lib Dem voters. To be clear, this wouldn’t mean totally abandoning existing Lib Dem policy or outsourcing it to housing developers, but it would require a rethink of the national Lib Dem approach to development. 

William Lane is an independent political analyst, who writes at the Party Animal Substack. You can also find him on Bluesky.

A Very Private School by Charles Spencer

A Very Private School: A Memoir

Charles Spencer

William Collins, 2025, £10.99

There used to be two prestigious prep schools near Market Harborough. Nevill Holt closed in 1999, shortly after the police arrived to talk to the deputy head about allegations of sexual abuse and he fled the building and hanged himself in some nearby woods. A former member of staff was later jailed for ten years for 33 sexual offences against boys aged between eight and twelve.

The second school was Maidwell Hall, which closed earlier this year and is the subject of Charles Spencer’s book. He was a pupil there from 1972 to 1977, and reveals it to have been a nest of physical and sexual abuse. 

The headmaster was skilled at keeping parents and even governors away from the school, which he had to be because his regime was geared to providing him, each evening, with half a dozen boys to beat. Some of Spencer’s fellow pupils still bear the scars 50 years later.

Life was no better at Nevill Holt. In the school’s last years, its sporting teams had to travel up to 50 miles to find other schools prepared to play them. Visiting teams had noticed that the facilities for showering and changing at Nevill Holt were designed to maximise masters’ opportunities to ogle naked boys and declined to return.

Charles Spencer writes beautifully – this is no run-of-the-mill celebrity memoir – and what he brings out is the misery of being sent to board at the age of eight, even if the school is more benign than Maidwell Hall and Nevill Holt were. The child loses his parents, his home, his bedroom, his pets and his toys and is instead looked after by strangers those parents know little about. 

Psychologists liken the experience to bereavement and some children never get over it. Others learn to dissociate themselves from their feelings, building a false personality that will please the school authorities. If you are reminded of some of our recent political leaders, I recommend Richard Beard’s book Sad Little Men, which explores this idea further.

When A Very Private School came out, Maidwell Hall issued a statement saying that “almost every facet of school life has evolved significantly since the 1970s”. No doubt that’s true, but it still comes as a shock to find that a group of parents who opposed the closure of the school lodged a formal complaint about it with the Charity Commission. 

What kind of country has charities that exist to send children away from home at the age of eight? After reading Charles Spencer’s book, you will feel we ought to have ones that campaign against the practice instead.

This review appears in issue 432 of Liberator magazine.

Lord Bonkers' Diary: "I’ll fetch you one up the bracket"

Yes, what did happen to Liberal Democrat High Command to make it do a reverse ferret on ID cards? Whatever it was, the delightful Hazel Grove got a very sideways move soon afterwards. There's more about this in the Radical Bulletin section of the new Liberator (issue 432).

The derivation of Clarence "Frogman" Willcock was discussed on this blog last year, while "I’ll fetch you one up the bracket" sounds very much the sort of thing Sid James would have said in Hancock's Half Hour.

Wednesday

I don’t know about you, but I find myself increasingly confused over this identity card business. Just before Conference the usually delightful Hazel Grove told us that we should all move with the times and get one of the things; and, though an unadvertised consultation held at four in the morning in a locked church hall in Branksome came out against them, Ed Davey was very keen on the idea at his question-and-answer session at Bournemouth too. 

There, a tame journalist called for a show of hands and claimed that 110 per cent of those present had voted in favour of cards – and that despite my running round the room to vote against from at least five different seats. (This new tonic the Wise Woman of Wing mixed for me is the cat’s pyjamas!) 

Yet as soon as we got back to Westminster, everyone was launching petitions against the aforementioned cards. Faced with this confusion, I cleave to the words of the great Clarence 'Frogman' Wilcock: "I am a Liberal and if you ask to see my card again I’ll fetch you one up the bracket."

Lord Bonkers was Liberal MP for Rutland South West, 1906-10.

Earlier this week

• One of Violent Bonham Carter’s boys
• A phone number for the Overton-Window twins

Llyn Dulyn: The Ghosts of the Black Lake (Nationwide, 1973)

Another Fortean report from Nationwide, the BBC early-evening magazine programme that offered an unrivalled portrait of Britain in the Seventies:

Llyn Dulyn ("Black Lake" in Welsh) lies nestled in the Carneddau range of mountains in Snowdonia. 

A quiet, eerie place, it’s steeped not only in an ancient folklore of evil spirits and witches, but also a more modern variety of ghost story. It was the site of multiple airplane crashes during WWII, and became infamous across North Wales. 

In this clip, the locals speak in hushed tones to reporter John Swinfield of collecting debris from the plane wrecks, catching strange-looking fish and hearing disembodied voices calling out to them.

This report was broadcast on 17 October 1973.

The Joy of Six 1441

"His central idea, as he has written before, is that people should own their data. Personal data is any data that can be linked to us, such as our purchasing habits, health information and political opinions." Alex Zarifis on Tim Berners-Lee's vision of the future of the internet.

Sarah Lyons on the ubiquity of violence towards women: "The one man present was in total shock, he had never heard women talk so candidly like this before, the way we talk amongst ourselves, and he genuinely could not comprehend how much violence we had all collectively endured He left that night visibly shaken, changed."

Niamh Gallagher reviews a history of the Great Famine: "There is no doubt that food was available in Ireland throughout the crisis – just not to those who needed it most. The year 1845 was a vintage one for oats; in 1846, 3.3 million acres were planted with grain, and Irish farms raised more than 2.5 million cattle, 2.2 million sheep and 600,000 pigs, most of which were exported to Britain." 

"For a man who said he hated politics, it is exactly his uncompromising sense of right and his engagement with the world that will make his legacy everlasting." Kenny Monrose pays tribute to Jimmy Cliff.

Jude Rogers says the Eighties television series Edge of Darkness speaks to the Britain of 2025: "As well as trusting its viewers with the complexity of its plot, much of the making of Edge Of Darkness was also audacious. It pioneered the use of Steadicam in its first episode, following Peck from his hotel room in the lift, through the foyer, down the stairs to a basement garage to meet shadowy government attaché Pendleton."

"Early 1645 Parliamentary forces seized Shrewsbury. In June 800 Parliamentarian men pushed south towards Ludlow, attacking Stokesay en route. The garrison were heavily outnumbered and defending what was now essentially an ornamental castle. A bit of back and forth parlay and the garrison surrendered." Keep Your Powder Dry has a survey of Civil War sites in Shropshire that confirms Stokesay Castle was built chiefly for show.

Lord Bonkers' Diary: A phone number for the Overton-Window twins

So that's what Lord Bonkers was up to on Bournemouth Beach! I did wonder.

We all wish the Liberal Democrat team well, but having seen one of Lord Bonkers' early net practices with them, I'm tempted to put a fiver on the Andorrans.

Tuesday

Perhaps you saw me on the sands at Bournemouth, making notes as some of our leading lights played cricket? I am, of course, always on the look out for new talents I can invite to turn out for my own XI, but this time there was more to it than that. 

For we Liberal Democrats have been drawn in the Group of Death at next summer’s ALDE T20 competition, along with Democraten 66, Radikale Venstre and Liberals d'Andorra. 

If I am to lick a team into shape while the party copes with May’s local elections, scrutinising a full Labour legislative programme and the St Pancras Day festivities, the sooner I commence net practice the better. 

The other approach, I suppose, would be to sign up some top-hole cricketers as party members. If anyone has a phone number for the Overton-Window twins, a postcard sent c/o the National Liberal Club will find me.

Lord Bonkers was Liberal MP for Rutland South West, 1906-10.

Earlier this week

• One of Violent Bonham Carter’s boys

The Who: Substitute

I was 16 when The Who re-released Substitute in 1976. I went out and bought it because it was so much better than anything else in the charts at the time.

Downing Street Downfalls: The Misadventures of Britain’s Prime Minister Since Thatcher by Mark Garnett

Downing Street Downfalls: The Misadventures of Britain’s Prime Minister Since Thatcher

Mark Garnett

Agenda, 2025, £20

It’s not a novelty for British prime ministers to leave No. 10 without having lost an election: Churchill, Eden, Macmillan and Wilson all did so. What is new, says Mark Garnett, is for them to be bundled out of power when they are still in good health.

He dates this trend to the fall of Thatcher in 1990, and it’s tempting to put its acceleration in the years since then down to Brexit. As Garnett says:

The 2016 referendum, and its consequences, accounted directly for Cameron and May; and while Johnson and Truss found means of self-sabotage, arguably neither would have earned the chance to showcase their ineptitude for leadership without Brexit.

But he sees other forces at work. The social upheavals of the Sixties led to a decline in class consciousness and in strong identification with a particular party among voters. In this new world, the popularity and perceived strengths of party leaders became increasingly important, as seen from the fact that Margaret Thatcher is the last party leader to have won an election while being less popular than her main opponent. 

This trend has encouraged a presidential style among prime ministers – a style that the public and press seem to have come to expect. When John Major tried to undo some of the changes of Thatcher’s Boadicea years and restore the importance of the cabinet, it was widely seen as a sign of weakness.

It’s no wonder, then, that politicians, journalists and voters alike now look to a change in prime minister to improve things when a government is in the doldrums. Keir Starmer had better watch out.

Garnett writes with wit and an eye for a good anecdote. David Cameron’s courtship of the Liberal Democrats after the 2010 election "made Casanova sound like a tongue-tied ingénue". At her post-election party conference, Theresa May received "the kind of sympathetic audience response that, in bygone days, had greeted the arrival of the condemned at Tyburn Tree". The claim that Liz Truss and Kwasi Kwarteng crashed the economy was inaccurate, "but it was certainly not from want of trying".

Downing Street Downfalls is an agreeable companion to contemporary political history and, when it turns to the last ten years, a reminder that there’s nothing quite as strange as the recent past.

This review appears in issue 432 of Liberator magazine.

Lord Bonkers' Diary: One of Violent Bonham Carter’s boys

The new Liberator has dropped. You can download issue 432 free of charge from the magazine's website. And that, of course, means it's time to brave another week at Bonkers Hall. 

When I first read this entry, I assumed his lordship meant that some Well-Behaved Orphans grew up to become locksmiths. I now fear that is not what he is saying.

Monday

Word has reached me that some of the backroom boys and girls at Buckingham Gate – no doubt Freddie and Fiona are to the fore – have taken to awarding our elected MPs chocolate bars if they judge them to have done particularly well. I should not have put up with such patronising treatment in 1906, nor, I wager, would anyone else on our benches. 

It reminds me of the time when the then Matron at my Home for Well-Behaved Orphans took to playing favourites and dishing out tuck only to a select few. I wasn’t having that, so I arranged for one of Violent Bonham Carter’s boys to call by on her afternoon off to teach the little inmates the rudiments of lock-picking. 

After that they were able to share out the confectionary fairly amongst themselves – and several WBOs were able to turn this new skill into an adult career. Perhaps I should do the same for our MPs today?

Lord Bonkers was Liberal MP for Rutland South West, 1906-10.

Bagworth Incline and the remains of one of the world's oldest railway buildings

Steve from the What Once Was channel (like and subscribe, my pretties) writes on YouTube:

Join me as I explore what’s left of the Bagworth Incline House – a forgotten but historically significant structure from one of Britain’s earliest public railways. 

Built in the early 1830s as part of the Leicester & Swannington Railway, this incline control house once helped transport coal across Leicestershire using rope-worked, self-acting incline technology – long before modern locomotives took over.

In the course of this video reveals that he lives in Hugglescote, where I once went to photograph its Edward VIII postbox.

The Joy of Six 1440

"The 'peace deal' that America is now attempting to force on Ukraine, is not like Neville Chamberlain’s betrayal of Czechoslovakia at Munich; it is far, far worse," says Jonty Bloom.

Sam Bright on the right-wingers who claim to love Britain, but want to destroy all its institutions: "The whole of Britain has become one big Oxford restaurant after a Bullingdon Club dinner: the tables upturned, the glass smashed, the staff left to sweep up the mess while the lads stumble out laughing, having dumped a bag of cash on the table by way of compensation."

"This feels partly like a sidelining of Wales in the national agenda, but also something more than that: a kind of disaster ennui. Floods aren’t new any more. They have become commonplace: but the way they are disregarded by some of the media and the government is deeply dangerous." Jude Rogers asks why the floods Storm Claudia caused in Monmouthshire received so little coverage.

Jack Walton remembers the lost world of Greater Manchester’s newspapers: "The Manchester Evening News is now the only local newsroom in Greater Manchester that has more than a handful of staff reporters, but go back 25 years and it would have been one of a dozen. Grand old titles like the Oldham Evening Chronicle and the Bolton Evening News used to inhabit imposing buildings which were buzzing with staff. In 2011, the Chronicle had 22 journalists and 76 total staff at its Union Street offices."

Colin Thurbron gave the eulogy for the writer Gillian Tindall at her memorial gathering last week: "'Houses and barns,' she wrote, 'gate posts, hedgerows, field slopes and the lie of paths, persist and persist, even when people that created them are earth themselves'.  In effect cities and buildings become, in her work, a palimpsest, in which the past lingers beneath the surface of things, and continues to shape them."

"Twain eventually came to believe that his idyllic childhood in Hannibal – immortalised in The Adventures of Tom Sawyer – had been only a dream, from which he had awakened to inescapable loss and misery. The boom and bust so redolent of American life haunted Twain, as it would F Scott Fitzgerald." Edward Short reviews a new biography of Mark Twain.

GUEST POST In the cause of duty: Walter Stolworthy is remembered at Wymondham station

Intrigued by a sign on a Norfolk railway station, Neil Hickman discovers a story of selfless service.

We take the people who work on the railways very much for granted. Sometimes, we get jolted out of our complacency, as with Samir Zitouni, who shielded passengers with his own body during the Huntingdon stabbing attack and was left hospitalised and fighting for his life.

Now, a little while back, I got off the train at Wymondham, once an important railway junction, though no more – the ambitious plans for a new station for the Mid-Norfolk heritage railway near the main line station have come to nothing. 

Wymondham (you pronounce this one "Windum", by the way, unlike the one near Bonkers Hall in Leicestershire) is a town with a history. Back in the 16th century, a brave and principled local landowner named Robert Kett led an ultimately doomed uprising early in the reign of Edward VI. He was hanged in chains at Norwich Castle (some reports say that he took three days to die), and was forgotten as a failure for many years, but his story has been rescued from obscurity and now Wymondham takes pride in him. 

When you arrive at Wymondham station, an illustrated sign, bearing drawings of the Market Cross and of Wymondham Abbey, welcomes you to what is rightly described as a fine historic town.

There is a poignant dedication on the station sign: "Dedicated to a loyal railwayman, who died in the cause of duty – Walter James Stolworthy, of Wymondham (1927-1988)". Having lived hereabouts for 15 years, I knew nothing of Walter Stolworthy, of his loyalty, or of his devotion to duty. What had become of him? Had he, like "Sam" Zitouni, sought to protect others? Internet searches yielded no information.

I found the answer in the pages of the Eastern Daily Press for 14 October 1988. It turned out to be distressingly banal. He had been working with colleagues on the track near a level crossing at nearby Attleborough. And he had been fatally struck by a Sprinter train, one of the diesel multiple-units introduced a few years previously.

It's a reminder that although railways are a very safe form of transport – it used to be said that the safest place in the world was the inside of a British railway train – danger is not far away, particularly with the relatively quiet diesel and electric trains. And indeed, the day after Walter Stolworthy was killed, an elderly couple were seriously injured when a train hit their car on an unmanned crossing near Oulton Broad, and one of them died the following month.

In fact, railway workers have faced danger for many years. The National Railway Museum accompanies a display of safety posters and literature with the sobering statistic that in 1900 alone over 16,000 railway workers were injured or killed, and by 1913, that figure was over 30,000. Much has been done to protect railway workers from danger, but that danger will never be eliminated, as the unfortunate Walter Stolworthy found to his cost.

Walter was married and had three grown up daughters. And there were two death notices for him in the Eastern Daily Press. One mourned him as "loving father and grandfather, tragically taken from us, doing the job he loved." The other simply remembered him as a good friend.

He died doing a job he loved, he was loved and missed by his family and his friends. That deserves a memorial. And he deserves to be more than just a forgotten name.

Neil Hickman is a retired county court judge, amateur historian and independent parish councillor. He is the author of Despotism Renewed? Lord Hewart Unburied.

Johnny Bristol: Memories Don't Leave Like People Do

I was all over chart music in 1974, even though I was dimly aware that the records I was hearing weren't as good as the ones I could just remember from the Sixties. So I remember this one clearly and am surprised to find it wasn't a hit.

Johnny Bristol (1939-2004) recorded a few singles in the US from 1959, but he was best known as songwriter and producer at Motown. He wrote Love Me for a Reason for the Osmonds and was co-producer of Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell's classic Ain't No Mountain High Enough.

He had a big hit in the UK with Hang On in There Baby at the start of 1974, sounding rather like Barry White. This was his follow up.

A year later Bristol produced a Tom Jones album that included five of his songs. One of them was Memories Don't Leave Like People Do, which became its title track.

The Joy of Six 1439

"The sections of Restoring Order and Control that mention children are chilling, suggesting that many asylum seekers bring their children not because they love and care for them but as a 'fact' to 'exploit ... in order to thwart removal'." Christopher Betram reads the government's new paper on its asylum and returns policy.

Morgan Wild believes municipal bond markets can save Britain: "This is one way to give public servants skin in the game. The team delivering the project should also raise the finance. Their decisions matter to them – cost overruns mean higher local taxes – in a way that they don't when they're trying to talk money out of the Treasury."

Why has government found it impossible to repair or replace Hammersmith Bridge? Do we need to replace it all? A fascinating investigation by Nick Maini.

Hetan Shah asks why no one cares that the British Library is in crisis.

"Carved from Forest of Dean sandstone, the structure was designed to appear as if gently rippling in the breeze. Blending Christian and Islamic symbols, the tomb reflects Burton’s lifelong fascination with Middle Eastern culture." Ian Visits reports that Conservation work has started on one of the most unusual mausoleums in the Roman Catholic world – the Bedouin tent shaped tomb of Sir Richard Burton and his wife, Lady Isabel, which stands in the churchyard of St Mary Magdalen in Mortlake.

Susan Major offers a new insight into York's history: "York’s back alleys hide a striking feature of the city's past: scoria bricks, made from the molten waste of Cleveland’s 19th-century blast furnaces. Distinctive for their silvery blue sheen and unusual shapes, these bricks tell a story of recycling, ingenuity and urban change."

US judge resigns after being disciplined for wearing Elvis wig in court

BBC News wins our Headline of the Day Award.

"If judges are allowed to wear silly wigs in court, no one will take them seriously," said the judges.