Akkerman in Haverhill

On Saturday I went with Rhodri to see Jan Akkerman and Gareth Pearson at Haverhill arts centre. They'd been in London on Wednesday but that's prayer meeting night and in a very short tour this was the only reasonable prospect, although I was a little cagey about using a Saturday night like that. Anyway in the end we made something of a trip of it travelling the 66 miles by way of Saffron Walden. We also took pictures of each other at Ugley and had a little look at the impressive Audley End, which is shut up at this time of the year. Saffron Walden is oozing with history and this was a good bit of reconnoitring for a future trip. It has several old buildings (Tudor, Georgian, etc) lots of antique shops and a nice market square. Everything was about to close by the time we got there and so we had a quick look around then had some chips and headed off across country and over the Essex/Suffolk border to Haverhill.

I saw someone describing Haverhill as the ugliest town in Suffolk - which is rather unfair but you can see their point. We looked for somewhere for a coffee and there wasn't really anywhere we could see so we went into a Wimpy. Rhodri had coke which was fine and I had a coffee which was not. He decided he wanted ice cream. They brought this very nice looking ice cream but it was tasteless. Rhodri was sat with his back to the counter but with a mirror in front of him. Through the mirror he could see a tub of Sainsbury's Basics ice cream. That's what they'd given him! I guess such a product is aimed at shutting little kids up but shame on Sainsbury's for producing it and on Wimpy for serving it.

The arts centre is actually a lovely old place inside and out and we had a great concert. Pity there weren't more there. It was good to see Graham, Gareth's dad, who I was in school with, and who goes to my home church. The Akkernutters (Leigh, Lloyd, Jim,etc) were out in force. Gareth did a nice set and talked a bit as he does. It's a shame that great talent and personality are not enough to win you fame and fortune. It was good to see Gareth again and pass on a copy of Steve Nichols' Getting the Blues which seemed appropriate. I also gave one to Jan later (plus a copy of my own book) and had a chat ranging over the happiness of sea lions, Rabindranath Tagore and the Rabbi's tunnel, etc. His own set was superb. He wandered on stage picked up his battered Lowden and said it was cold waiting upstairs so he'd decided to come down (!). He then sat (Gareth had stood) and got going. First we had what he called a medley of old Dutch carpenter songs (ie Focus stuff - beginning with bits from Eruption, unheard until then the Akkernutters told me, Le Clochard, Sylvia, Anonymus, etc). He then played two of the suites from his acoustic album and rather different version of Tranquiliser. I think it was Firenze and something else next (probably not) and then a bit of Django type stuff plus another track. He then got into a storming version of Hocus Pocus that was mesmerising. Sadly (though not surprisingly) a string broke part way in and so we never got to hear the whole thing. Instead he called Gareth up to do another number while he re-strung. They finished off with a fascinating duet playing with Michael Jackson's Billie Jean which Gareth had tackled earlier. Slightly surreal, Jan ended thanking Gareth then Graham (who's been driving Jan around - usually with his head out of the window trying to have a smoke!) then me (!) then Leigh. He would have named the whole audience if he could have - or at least the Welsh ones!

After a quick chat and some photos we headed off into the wet night and got home just outside my personal curfew looking forward to the Lord's Day.

John Newman Martyr

I happened to be in Saffron Walden on Saturday where I saw this blue plaque. Newman was one of hundreds killed in Mary's reign. A pewterer worked with pewter, commonly used for drinking vessels and other objects right to the end of the 18th Century. The entry in Foxe doesn't tell us much more than the plaque. it is a reminder of great faith in difficult times.

John Denley, John Newman, and Patrick Packingham

Mr. Denley and Newman were returning one day to Maidstone, the place of their abode, when they were met by E. Tyrrel, Esq., a bigoted justice of the peace in Essex, and a cruel persecutor of the Protestants. He apprehended them merely on suspicion.

On the fifth of July, 1555, they were condemned, and consigned to the sheriffs, who sent Mr. Denley to Uxbridge, where he perished, August eighth, 1555. While suffering in agony, and singing a Psalm, Dr. Story inhumanly ordered one of the tormentors to throw a fagot at him, which cut his face severely, caused him to cease singing, and to raise his hands to his face. Just as Dr. Story was remarking in jest that he had spoiled a good song, the pious martyr again changed, spread his hands abroad in the flames, and through Christ Jesus resigned his soul into the hands of his Maker.

Mr. Packingham suffered at the same town on the twenty-eigth of the same month.

Mr. Newman, pewterer, was burnt at Saffron Waldon (sic), in Essex, August 31, for the same cause, and Richard Hook about the same time perished at Chichester.