The Kings Arms
Everyone must have a goal; climb a mountain, run a marathon, display creative work, become a specialist in a particular endeavour. For us, two gentlemen of a certain age; one, Philip, proud of his bus pass and senior rail card, the other, Laurie, tantalisingly close to eligibility, it is to visit as many pubs and hotels called 'The Kings Arms' as possible. A starting list suggested 380 such hostelries in Great Britain. Why that particular name? Like so many 'good ideas', this was born at the local pub, the Kings Arms in Emsworth, Hampshire, an excellent hostelry run professionally by Penny and Adrian White. A pub with its niche in the local market place meeting the needs of an older clientele, with no music, pub games, television or themed evenings other than those that celebrate good beer and good food; there are special menus for St. George's Day, Trafalgar Day, St. Valentine's Day, Burns Night and the Emsworth food festival in September. The pub was part of the Gales Brewery and following that Brewery's acquisition by Fuller, Smith and Turner in December 2005 is now part of Fullers.
Emsworth is a large village of about 9,500 inhabitants within the Borough of Havant on the south coast of England between Portsmouth and Chichester. The name 'Kings Arms' refers to the coat of arms of the British monarchy. The sign for the Kings Arms, Emsworth shows a shield held on the left by an English Lion and on the right by a Unicorn in chains, representing Scotland. There was a belief in medieval times that a unicorn was very dangerous, if loose, and could only be tamed by a virgin. The two were used in the royal arms from 1603 following the unification of the English and Scottish crowns on the succession of James 1 of England, (James VI of Scotland). The Arms contain the motto in French, Dieu et mon droit (God and my right), first used as a military password by Richard I (Richard the Lionheart 1189-1199) at the battle of Gisors in 1198 (Gisors is 70 km South east of Rouen in Normandy), and adopted by Henry VI (1422-61) as the royal motto. It is in French as at the time of its adoption French was the language of Government. The shield is encircled with the words, also in French, 'Honi soit qui mal y pense' (Evil to him who thinks evil), the insignia of the Order of the Garter. This order was formed by Edward III on St. George's Day, 23 April 1349 at a time when England was being devastated by the plague, the Black Death. There are many stories as to the reason for the motto and the garter, the most authoritative being that the former was an expression commonly in use at the time amongst Knights engaged in tournaments and the latter, the garter, was worn outside the armoured leg as part of the Knight's decoration. The Order remains the highest Order of Chivalry in the United Kingdom. So with knowledge of the Kings Arms, a predilection for 'London Pride' and a curiosity for the infinite variety of British life we set off to chart the different manifestations of the Pubs that carried the shield and motto of British monarchy. Our journey began on a crowded Saturday train. "Kylie shall I show you what you're to wear tonight?" The voice had a hard edge to it, flattened vowels. Kylie was pretty with noticeable white teeth and what we agreed is regarded as a comfortable body. She was wearing a sash across her shoulder with 'Bride to be' clearly marked and, with friends, was travelling to Cardiff to celebrate, console, commiserate with her impending change of status. The offer to see that evening's attire was not accepted and the proposer satisfied herself by producing a necklace that held a 'shot-glass' that would no doubt ease Kylie into amnesia over what was to become. They were travelling on the First Great Western train whose two diesel coaches make the hourly link from Portsmouth to Cardiff Central. Always full, it collects and deposits through Hampshire, Wiltshire and Avon before crossing the Severn into Wales. A journey of three hours and twenty minutes through the downland of southern Britain, that provided ample time to drink Carling Export as a precursor for the evening to come. Squeezed into two seats with scarcely room for knees we hid behind the 'Times', 'Guardian' and 'Telegraph', reading tales of the challenge facing Wigan Athletic and Sheffield United as they fight to stay in the Premiership Division in British Football, and the possible fate of Scooch, four Britons dressed as air stewards and stewardesses, in the 2007 Eurovision Song Contest. The train arrived in Salisbury at 11.40, on time and time enough to anticipate, albeit with some apprehension, the first pint in the Kings Arms Hotel in St. John's Street. The omens were not good, the Trip Adviser web site ranked the Hotel 27th of the 28 Hotels in Salisbury, and carried the comments of a recent visitor: We was on a business trip from my work ( Sweden) and should have a good stay at the hotel. The surrounding area and the old part of the sity was perfect. Carparking was good because we were the only staying at the hotel. The breakfast was very poor, only cornflakes and roasted light bread. One night one of our couple complained of having wallbugs scars all over his body! I would never recommend this hotel to anyone not even to my worst enemy
We even detected a wry look in the eyes of the Salisbury taxi driver seated in an old 'black cab' as we asked to be taken to the Hotel. Its location is excellent, close to Salisbury's beautiful Cathedral, consecrated in 1258 and graced by the tallest spire in England at 123 metres. St. John's Street, formerly part of the old High Street, assumed its present title in the 18th Century. The Hotel might be older, its coach arch carries part of a seventeenth century man trap, so the King could be one of the Stuarts, Charles I or II or James I or II. The King's Arms Hotel is currently owned by the Suffolk Brewers, Greene King and there is some evidence of refurbishment beginning to take place, though the Hotel was still open to visitors. We went to the empty reception, turned left into a yard where Laurie asked a seventeenth century throw back if it was possible to get a drink. 'Go round the other side' came the reply. However all doors facing St. John Street were locked though peering in tables were laid and a couple in some intimacy could be discerned in the bar. Undaunted Laurie retraced his steps, passed Reception and followed the signs to the Bar where a lady was being comforted, or giving comfort as a male caressed her breast whilst a second man engaged in somewhat desultory conversation. Maybe this is what the Brewers mean when they pronounce on their website, 'For those that are looking for that extra little something, you'll find it at a Greene King Inn". Without embarrassment or concern the lady asked. 'What do you want dear?' A drink was the reply and her comforter, left his warm embrace to go behind the Bar. 'What do you want?' 'A beer, draught beer'? 'Beer? We got Lager, I tell you what, why don't go down the road to the White Hart, they have real ale there'. With that we left. Failed at the first attempt, the first King's Arms we had entered, potentially home to 'Abbott Ale', 'Old Specked Hen' and even 'Ruddles County' yet all we were offered was lager. Undaunted we continued with the itinerary prepared before the trip. We crossed New Street and walked along Catherine Street, stopping to ask a Traffic Warden, in mid issue of a ticket, if he could confirm to us we were heading towards Fisherton Street. He was very clear, 'Turn left at the next junction and head straight for Woolworths, turn right to the corner with Barclays Bank where you turn left into Bridge Street and then onto Fisherton Street'. The route crosses the Wilshire-Hampshire River Avon, (Avon is a Celtic word meaning river), draining from the Salisbury Plain, Vale of Pewsey, southwards to the English Channel at Christchurch. Our next King's Arms was 99, Fisherton Street, a street that celebrated itself as the home of specialist shops. The pub proclaimed its origins with a sign above the door 'Circa 19th Century' suggesting the 'King' was probably Edward VII (1901-10), though inside was a portrait of Henry VIII (1509-47) aged 54, a rather poor copy of Holbein's portrait of 1536. A sign outside the pub announced 'All Beers £ 2.50' and it was pleasing to see on offer Ringwood Best Bitter. We were the only customers in the Bar and the barman proclaimed that the 'Beer would be lively' as he had just put it on. This pint was far from the beer that took Ringwood to the Bronze medal in the 2005 Munich Beer Festival; it was flat, cloudy and unappetising. The decor of the Pub reminiscent of those Care Homes where the only provision for clients is chair in which to sit whilst watching television. In this case, the colours were gingham, yellow and green checks on chairs with wooden frames. The pub is owned by Enterprise Inns, a chain based in Solihull in the West Midlands with about 7,000 tenants. We had planned to have some food at the Pub but were informed that as yet food was not an option, though might become one as the kitchens were to be refurbished. It was intriguing to speculate if there was a particular gender issue in the pub. The toilets were clearly marked as 'Ladies' and 'Gents' but for reasons that escaped us the former required an additional to remind customers that a Ladies Toilet is one intended for Ladies. Maybe because close to the Kings Arms was an 'Adult Shop' that displayed its sensitivity to potential clients by advising that: We declined the invitation, our original intention was to enjoy a couple of pints at the Kings Arms Fisherton Street and take a modest sandwich. Food was not available and the beer was barely drinkable so rather than leave Salisbury on the 13:51 to Bradford on Avon, as planned, we decided to leave an hour earlier on the supposition that there would be a 12:51. What we failed to appreciate was the '51' departure was not the hourly service from Portsmouth to Cardiff which left at 12:41, just as we arrived at Salisbury station. The next train to Bradford on Avon was the 13:51 leaving us no alternative other than to have a drink, not to return to the Kings Arms, but at the Railway Tavern, equally deserted, though with the compensation of a better presented pint of ale. Our thirst satiated we returned to Platform 3, purchased a sandwich each whilst waiting for the 13:51. This train proved to be part of a complex schedule. It had begun its journey at London Waterloo and at Salisbury would divide; the front part for Plymouth and the rear for Bristol Temple Meads. The ticket inspector, about to begin his shift, graciously advised that we needed to sit in the appropriate part of the platform. We were joined by an elderly couple, she in flowing dress with a face not dissimilar to 'Mr Punch', he with a pair of chinos and a deep pink vest enabling those who wished to admire his greying, curly bodily hair. Was this the optimism of someone about to go on holiday dressed in anticipation of tropical sun, or the foolhardy returning, forgetful that in English May-time temperatures can be cold. The train arrived as advised for the fifty minute journey through quintessential English countryside to the charming small town of Bradford-on-Avon. Built at a point where the River Avon could be forded and at the beginning of navigable water through Bath to Bristol, Bradford-on-Avon was an important town for the spinning and weaving of wool before that trade moved north, it is even said that Bradford in the West Riding of Yorkshire was named after Bradford on Avon. It was also a warehouse town, storing Cotswold wool for shipmen via the sea to London. In the fourteenth century a double arched bridge was built, replacing an earlier Norman bridge, with a small chapel on its south eastern side. It carries as a weather vane a Gudgeon, a Christian symbol and a fish reported by Izaak Walton in 1653 to be of 'excellent taste'. Later the chapel became a small prison, 'Blind House' where miscreants could be temporally held. We crossed that bridge to find the Kings Arms, another Greene King establishment. In this instance the pub was built in 1792, the King was George III and the 'Arms' based on those of the Hanoverian monarchs and at the centre a small shield carrying the Scottish lion. The shield carries the three fleurs-de-lys of France, first used by Edward III in 1337 to underline his claim on the French throne and not dropped until 1801. The pub looked tired, grey paint, old furniture though with signs of importance to its community, as in the sign 'Bradford-on-Avon Rugby Club Drink here'. Food was possible, baguettes, lasagne, burgers, cod and chips; though in the middle of the afternoon the restaurant was empty. The beer was acceptable and competitively priced at £2.40 per pint. We left after one pint with the intention of walking along the Avon Valley to Melksham, a path that alternated following the river and taking us along the tow-path of the Kennet and Avon Canal. A canal that by 1810 provided an inland waterway from Bristol to London, the section along which we planned to walk was constructed between 1794 and 1801. Its surveyor and principal engineer was John Rennie, aged 33 in 1784 and whose greatest achievement was the construction of Waterloo Bridge in London. (Rennie's structure was replaced in the 1930s with the present bridge and there is a plaque to Rennie at its northern end). The canal follows the 30 metre contour line with two small aqueducts over the River Biss and over the Salisbury to Bradford-on-Avon railway line, views we could not appreciate for as we reached the tow-path a threatened thunder-storm unleashed its fury. A rain bouncing off the tow-path kind of thunderstorm that produced enough water to begin to merge the tow-path and the canal and even shelter under an English Oak provided no protection. The storm was short lived, though effective in its power to drench, as our sodden trousers swished and squelched in time with our walk. Ahead were the Biss and Ladydown aqueducts and a canal boat whose owner had just released three Alsatian dogs. On seeing our bedraggled approach he was quick to summon 'Max' and 'Ricky' and 'Wolf' back onto the boat and we mused at the atmosphere of three wet, large dogs within the confined space of a 21 metre (69 foot) narrow boat. On reaching the Hilperton Bridge, three and a quarter miles from the Kings Arms Bradford-on-Avon, we turned right to the Kings Arms Hilperton Marsh. We were welcomed by Sue, the Landlady and served a pint of the 'guest beer', Charlie Wells' 'Bombardier', brewed in Bedford. Wells is now Wells and Young and the production of all Young's beers has moved from Wandsworth in south west London to Bedford. The pub's sign, like that of the Kings Arms Bradford-on-Avon, still carries the fleurs-de-lys of France. The pub itself is part of the Scottish and Newcastle chain and the current tenants had only been in place a matter of weeks. The pub differed from others we had visited in that there was almost a crowd at the bar, men largely of our own age, friendly, and more than one enquired if we had got caught by the storm. We sat close to the pool table where two elderly, and maybe a little drunk, men played a not particularly skilled game. It ended rather acrimoniously and our knowledge of Pool was not sufficient to discern why. The upset was such to cause one of the players to leave the pub. The beer was good enough to enjoy a second pint and we decided that rather than walk the six miles to Melksham and our next Kings Arms, we would take a taxi. The Kings Arms Hotel is an 18th Century staging post originally serving travellers on the journey between Bristol and London. Melksham now is a town of just over 14,000 and a major employer is Avon Tyres. We were just shy of 'opening time' at six o'clock and looked forward to a pint of Henry's IPA, a Wadsworth Beer from the brewery in Devizes, seven miles away. We had intended to stay at the King's Arms but the Hotel was full as there was a wedding in town. The Hotel was managed by an enthusiast. A young man who was quick to tell us of his plans, his achievements and ambition. He showed us an attractively laid table for dinner, booked by a customer on the pretence of celebrating her boyfriend's birthday, but, we were told, the cake carried the message 'Will You Marry Me?'. Sadly we could not stay to see the outcome as our accommodation for the evening was in the Methuen Arms, Corsham, five miles away.
The kings Arms
On the shield in the centre of the sign, England is represented in the first and third quadrants by three lions looking outwards, (passant guardant). This representation was first carried by Richard I; 'Richard the Lionheart' 1189-1199. In the second quadrant is the rampant lion of Scotland and the golden harp of Ireland is in the fourth quadrant. Wales doesn't not feature in these Arms, as a Principality it has its own Prince, the Prince of Wales, and the country is represented through his standard.
