A Cross To Share

"In 1290 the wife of Edward Ι - Eleanor of Castile died in Nottingham. It had been a marriage of love and not the usual arranged marriage of political convenience. Her body was brought to London for burial and everywhere the cortège stopped Edward built crosses. The last stopping place was in London at Charing (an Anglo-Saxon word for 'turning') where the road turned to Westminster and Charing Cross was erected."

This is the most fascinating fact that I have read in a long time. How romantic, how exciting, how simple and yet grand a gesture from a King of England to his beloved, deceased, wife. And so I delve a little deeper and discover more new facts… You know those signs that you pass as you navigate your way towards London? The ones that say “London 23 miles”. Well have you ever wondered where they measure that from? I have. And now I know. They measure it from the site of the original Eleanor Cross (South of Trafalgar Square). Imagine that, a simple romantic gesture now defined as the centre of all London.

I am reading one of my stocking presents - “A History of England in a Nutshell.” Before this, the total sum of the history that I remember from school amounted to a vague recollection of a school outing to a muddy field which, it was explained, was the site of the Battle of Bosworth (but I couldn’t have told you what relevance the Battle of Bosworth had on anything). I also remember a fat, ginger, king called Henry VΙΙΙ alongside the ditty to remember his numerous wives… divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived. Oh and the Second World War. That’s it. For some reason the government didn’t think to teach kids in the 80s history in the order in which it actually happened and gave so much attention to certain events that it gave everyone a warped idea of their importance in the course of history. Just before I gave up history at 14, I got an A grade in my summer exams. Extraordinary.

Well, on Monday as I trudge back to my job, I will be placing the palm of my hand on the replica of the Eleanor Cross in front of Charing Cross station and pledging that 2008 be the year that I no longer live in ignorance of my country’s history. But that is not my only pledge. Time is precious, I am a part of history and I’ve wasted the last two years of my history in a job which answers to arrogant, petty managers, for very few silver pennies. In 2008, I will go all out to better that. Oh… and hopefully I’ll make a bit of my own romantic history too with my new man man and our first holiday abroad together. How very exciting!