Just how many weapons can you stomach in one day?

It’s simply ages ago that I last visited the Royal Armouries Museum in Leeds – way back in the time I used to head up Communications at the now defunct ‘Yorkshire Electricity’. It opened in 1996 and YE was one of the companies that sponsored the building when the display moved from its previous storage in the Tower of London, where the Royal Armouries still maintains a presence in the White Tower.

 

I was recently back in Yorkshire for a month waiting for my visa application to be processed prior to coming out again to China, when one day my son and his GF suggested a revisit. With entrance to the museum free, and it being a particularly nice (but cold) day, the suggestion was a bit of a no-brainer… of course I would be delighted!

 

So we met up at Leeds bus station and together headed off to 53.791866°N 1.532258°W which, BTW, is at Clarence Dock, situated close to the city centre on the banks of the River Aire.

 

 

The Royal Armouries is one of those ancient institutions that was originally engaged in the manufacture of armour for the Kings of England. In 1545, it is recorded that a visiting foreign dignitary actually paid to view the collection at the Armoury (they didn’t have such an enlightened government in those days to ensure that UK museums were free, unlike nowadays); and by the time of Charles II, there was a permanent public display there. So I guess that early Royal Armoury can be counted as the very first museum in Britain.

 

Designed by architect Derek Walker, this modern Museum was originally scheduled to be in Meadowhall, Sheffield. But in 1991 Leeds was chosen instead for the venue and £42.5m was raised from both the public and private sectors. In March 1996 it was finally opened by HM the Q. And here’s a little Trivial Pursuit piece of useless knowledge: Did you know the museum is actually mentioned in the Kaiser Chiefs song ‘Team Mate’, from the band’s début album, ‘Employment’? No, neither did I. I mean… wow!

 

 

The Royal Armouries collection actually consists of some 70,000 examples of arms, armour and artillery dating from antiquity to the present day, including royal armours of the Tudor and Stuart kings; arms and armour of the English Civil Wars; British and foreign military weapons; hunting and sporting weapons, as well as a small collection of fine and decorative arts, paintings, sculptures, antique prints and drawings, early photographs, stereoscopes and lantern slides. It’s divided into five galleries: War, Tournament, Oriental, Self Defence and Hunting, and until recently the Museum used live presentations in addition to the static displays to explain the collection; but as is so often the way in Britain these days, funding cuts put an end to much of the live stuff .

 

Anyway, once you get to the Museum you simply cannot escape the unusual logo that is found everywhere – on the tops of poles, on posters, on stickers … just everywhere. Read on to find out WTF it’s all about!

 

 

The building of the Royal Armouries Museum was actually designed from the inside out – a bit like Batman and his underpants, if you get my drift! They started by determining the heights of the ceilings (have you ever tried carrying a full length pikestaff in a normal sized room?) and the size of the lifts (likewise!) and then wrapped a building around the space.

 

And then they simply popped a whole load of collections into the building, starting with five galleries which house 5,000 of those 70,000 objects in permanent displays. Covering Ancient and Medieval warfare, 17th, 18th, 19th and 20th centuries weapons; hunting around the world; oriental weapons; arms and armour dedicated to jousting; self defence… it has everything. In fact you name it, if it has anything to do with weaponry, there’s a good chance you will find it here.

 

In the summer months there’s even a jousting and sporting arms area, known as the Arena in which two important jousting contests are still held each year with competitors coming from all over the world.

 

But the sight that has everyone reaching for their cameras (before they realise that their lenses aren’t wide-angled enough!) is the amazing Hall of Steel – a collection of swords and shields that decorate the main giant staircase whose walls are covered with trophy displays composed of 2,500 objects reminiscent of the historical trophy displays erected by the Tower Armouries from the 17th century.

 

 

One thing that you see everyone puzzling over when they first enter the building is which direction to go in. Having visited many museums in China where you are steered through galleries as if you were shuffling your way through an IKEA store, here it is just … well, random. Even the galleries don’t really seem to lead on one from the next. But in a way that very lack of planning seems to work really well here.

 

Step out of the lift on the second floor and you are confronted by a jousting knight on horseback…

 

 

And if you mosey round the corner to the café (or are desperate for a loo break!) there are some rather nice jousting pictures adorning the walls there.

 

 

For me, one of the most impressive halls was the one dedicated to eastern armour. Take this reproduction of a horse and rider from the tomb of Shihuangdi in China around 210BC, for instance. The 3000 terracotta warriors gave a great insight into the military equipment of China at a time when it was adapting from a long period of internal wars to one in which it was engaged against the cavalry armours of the eastern steppe – mainly Xiongnu, known as the Huns. In contrast to nomad cavalry, these very early Chinese cavalry were armed with crossbows in an attempt at using powerful long range weapons to combat the composite bows of the Huns. They also wore armour of laced plate, probably made of bronze.

 

 

The Japanese collection is no less impressive. From the Late Heian to the Kamakura period (AD897 - 1392) Japanese armies were organised around armoured horse archers supported by mobile auxiliary infantry. The mounted samurai used longbows (called yumi) as their primary weapon. This Japanese longbow was made of bamboo and mulberry wood and in the 10th century the length of the stave was fixed at 2.2 metres. A special leather glove with a reinforced thumb was worn on the right hand.

 

 

Further to the west, elephants played a significant part in warfare from as early as 1000BC until the 19th century. Mainly used in India and SE Asia (but occasionally also in western Asia, north Africa, and even Spain and Italy) they were valued for their strength, intelligence and ability to be trained. Their main role was as fighting animals but of course they were also used to move heavy loads. They could also wield swords attached to their tusks – reminiscent I always think of the knives attached to the feet of cockerels in traditional cock fighting.

 

Take a look at this Indian Mughal armour worn about 1600 and purchased by the Tower Armouries in 1833. The armour was known as ‘bargustawan-i-pil’; and this is the only example of an almost complete elephant armour in any public collection in the world. It is made of mail and plate and was originally formed of eight panels – three either side of the body and one each for the head and throat. It weighs in at 118kg but the original complete armour would have weighed around 160kg (so it is unlikely you would have got it into your baggage allocation, when returning home on leave, even if you flew first class). It was probably made in northern India in the late 16th or early 17th century.

 

 

While we’re in the region of the sub continent, let’s take a quick butchers’ at some daggers from Lahore from the 17th and 18th centuries. They were called katar…

 

 

And continuing the daggers theme, there’s a particularly nasty collection of flick knives and knuckle dusters that you might have come across walking the back streets of the ‘Smoke’ in days gone by…

 

 

One thing the museum has in abundance – apart from all the swords, that is – are guns. Here is a kolibri which is one of the smallest working pistols ever made. It fires a bullet of only 2.7mm calibre and holds five rounds. They say it would only be dangerous at very close range, though I’m still not sure I’d like to be on the receiving end of it!

 

 

There’s also a Walther Model PPK first manufactured in 1931. This 7.65mm police pistol was designed to be easily concealed. You’ll no doubt remember that James Bond was first issued with one in ‘Dr No’ as a replacement for his Beretta .25 – also shown – which was manufactured in Italy from 1920, and was Bond's favourite pistol in the first five books.

 

 

The museum has obviously thought long and hard as to how it can make the entire subject of arms and armour appealing to the masses; and in the main they have succeeded very well. As well as a James Bond display, there are also examples of, for instance, the Thompson sub machine gun which was made from 1928 and is forever linked in the public’s mind with American prohibition in the 1920s. The Thompson was used in the St Valentine's Day massacre in Chicago, and, of course, in the blockbuster film Bonnie and Clyde.

 

 

Something I wasn’t expecting, but is an eye catcher in its own right, is a complete do-it-yourself anti-vampire kit! Complete protection against the undead. LOL! If traditional garlic and stakes don’t work, no worries! There’s a pistol included which is apparently also effective against vampires. More than 80 of these kits were actually produced! Yes, some people really did believe in vampires! As Bram Stoker wrote in his 1897 epic Dracula: "The branch of wild rose on his coffin keep him that he move not from it; a sacred bullet fired into the coffin kill him so that he be true dead; and as for the stake through him we know already of its peace; or the cut off head that giveth rest. We have seen it with our eyes.”

 

The first such kit was recorded only in 1986, however. It consisted of a hardwood box containing a Belgian percussion pocket pistol (about 1850), 4 wooden stakes with mallet, crucifix, bottled garlic, holy water and holy earth, a Book of Common Prayer (1851), rosary beads and a handwritten verse from St Luke's gospel.

 

 

And while we’re on the subject of fantasy – and returning to the Hollywood theme for a moment –

there’s even a display of swords used in Middle Earth – or Hobbit land to you and me!

 

 

I mentioned earlier on that the weapons on display weren’t just for armed combat. There are also

loads of hunting implements of destruction for instance; such as this whaling harpoon gun…

 

 

And ever the provider of gosh-well-I-never-knew-that-facts, the museum tell us that in 1826 in the port city of Hull the numbers of traders who used parts of whales in their products included 10 brush makers, 6 soap manufactures, 2 whalebone cutters, 1 bristle merchant, 16 tallow chandlers, 7 bone merchants, 3 comb makers, 8 stay makers, 7 button mould makers, 8 furriers, 6 umbrella makers, and 14 oil merchants. So maybe the Brits shouldn’t appear so self righteous when castigating other nations for their little bit of whale hunting!

 

In fact we ultra-clean Brits only developed our use of soap in the 18th century as a direct result of whale hunting making soap much more cheaply available. Whale oil was also used for domestic lamps until the discovery of petroleum in 1859. In the 1740s 5,000 street lamps using whale oil were installed in London and were used until the introduction of coal gas lighting!

 

 

Had enough of killing whales? OK how about slaughtering the odd tiger or two? Here’s a photo of the Nizam of Hyderabad and his entourage during a tiger hunt in about 1890…

 

 

There was even a gun especially designed for killing waterfowl from the safety of a long narrow boat as it sailed over the broads. Looks jolly uncomfortable to me and I can only imagine the bird killers suffered awful back ache by the time they returned home in the evening carrying their clutch of birds.

 

 

 

But by now we have turned yet another corner and arrived back in the oriental gallery, albeit a floor higher than before. In front of us is some mail and plate coat from the Philippines. Known as ‘baju lamina’ this Moro 19th century mail was made entirely of brass, with its plates joined by butted mail and with silver fittings. In form it closely resembles the armours worm throughout the Islamic world from the 14th to 17th centuries.

 

 

Across the way is a glass case stuffed full of Japanese small swords from the late 18th century. They were probably produced in a factory in Deshima for export to Europe. The hilts are made of gilt copper.

 

 

I mentioned earlier on that the height of the ceilings had been so planned to allow for pike-carrying museum staff; but there is also ample space for horses which the museum has in abundance … well, that’s to say models of horses!

 

Horses, of course, played vital roles in both battles and in hunting. They needed protection in battle and sport just like their riders and their armour would include a ‘shaffron’ to cover the head, a ‘crinet’ over the neck, and plates of metal called ‘barding' to protect the body.

 

 

And in this museum, wherever there is a horse standing idly about, you can guarantee that there will also be a knight of the realm showing off his armour. Take these examples of cuirassier armour from Holland about 1630. The gilt fittings have been punched in with incised decorations and they still bear traces of gilding. It is possible some of this armour was made for the accession of King Charles II in the 1660s.

 

 As for this next one – it is widely regarded as one of the finest armours to be found in the world. It has spectacular decoration featuring twelve embossed lions' heads and was no doubt used for tournaments or parades at court events.

 

Fashionable Tudor knights wanted to look their very best to impress everyone how rich and powerful they were. It is said that members of court could tell at a glance who made your armour and whether it was the latest fashion. A knight could choose a style and decoration from a pattern book, and could even have matching armour made for his horse! As Giorgio Armani once said "The difference between style and fashion is quality!"

 

 

And at last we come to the most iconic of all the museum’s items… The horned helmet, made by one of the finest armourers of the early 16th century. Konrad Seusenhofer of Innsbruck was court armourer to Maximilian 1st, the Holy Roman Emperor.

 

Maximilian presented a suit of armour – of which only this helmet remains – to King Henry VIII in 1514. The mask has wide set eyes, a stubbly chin, a pair of spectacles and a large hooked nose which is dripping! It is believed that the face is that of a court jester. The rams horns may have been added at a later date to exaggerate the strange appearance of the helmet. It was chosen as the symbol of the Royal Armouries not only because of its association with Henry VIII but also because of its extraordinary appearance.

 

 

So there you have it. The Royal Armouries is a great day out. If you thought going to a museum could be dull, then think again. Sure, there are only so many swords / guns / suits of armour / horses’ backsides that you can take in at any one go, before you start feeling that you’ve seen them all!

 

But if ever you get up to the northern wastes of Yorkshire, you’d be well advised to put some time aside to visit. And with free entrance, it certainly provides great value for money!

Strolling Between the Walls in Downtown Manila

I was wandering around central Manila a few weeks back and found myself in Rizal Park, heading for… well, I’m not sure where. Rizal Park, you’ll remember if you read my last blog, is situated slap bang next to the National Museum and along Roxas Boulevard, adjacent to Manila’s old walled city of Intramuros.

 

Something that had caught my eye on my previous visit was a sign to the old Orchidarium; and as I love gardens and plant exhibits, I had determined to visit it as soon as time permitted.

 

The sign had caught my eye before as, not only did it point the way to the Orchidarium itself, but at the bottom it warned, rather ominously in my opinion, “Government Property Do Not Remove. Mere possession of this sign is punishable by law”.
 

Now, although I cannot fathom for one minute why anyone would cast a covetous eye over such a ramshackle old billboard, I had to keep reminding myself that I was, after all, in Manila and anything that isn’t bolted down is liable to be lifted.

 

Slap bang in the middle of this object of desire was the word Barbara’s, added, I suspect, somewhat haphazardly at some date after the board had originally been created.
 

Barbara’s, for those in the know, is a catering chain that claims to specialise in Filipino and Spanish dishes, though house specialties apparently also include other European-inspired dishes. Barbara's also claims to “cater to people who enjoy good food served in a grand manner”. The most recent addition to the company’s projects is the Orchidarium outlet, whose plaza can accommodate functions for up to 500 people.
 

Alas, the well laid plans of mice and men are invariably thwarted; and with tears in my eyes I soon discovered the Orchidarium was well and truly locked for ‘rehabilitation’. So the garden has once again returned to my list of must-see-places-some-time-in-the-future.

 

So what else can one do in this part of downtown Manila? What else, apart from explore the old area of Intramuros, just along the road!
 

Over four centuries ago, Intramuros WAS Manila. From its founding in 1571, to the end of Spanish rule in 1898, it was the exclusive preserve of the Spanish ruling classes, while the native populace was settled in surrounding areas such as Paco and Binondo, while the 'troublesome' Chinese were kept under permanent supervision in a ghetto called the Parian.
 

For some 400 years, Intramuros served as the capital of the Spanish East Indies. It was the centre of commerce, education, government, and religion in Spain's most distant imperial possession. Within its massive walls were imposing government buildings, stately homes, churches, convents, monasteries, schools, hospitals and cobbled plazas. Life there was the standard against which all other lifestyles in the rest of the country were judged.
 

But time was not kind to Intramuros. It suffered gunfire, earthquakes, fires and a world war or two, followed by neglect; and it’s surprising that so much still stands today, given that it was only in 1979 that there was finally an attempt made to rebuild it, starting firstly on the old walls.

 

Also known as the Ciudad Murada (Walled City), Intramuros is almost completely surrounded by this massive three-mile-long circuit of walls and fortifications, that were begun in the late 1500s to protect the inhabitants from attack. The Spanish conquistador Miguel López de Legazpi laid the foundations of the new capital on the former site of Maynilad, a palisaded riverside settlement, being the remnants of an Islamic settlement by the mouth of the Pasig River.
 

The walls enclosed a pentagonal area approximately 0.67 sq km in size – or some 64 hectares – within which lay a tight grid-like system of streets and a main square surrounded by government structures. The defensive curtain was more or less completed by the 1700s, although improvements and other construction work continued well into the next century.
 

Not that it stopped it being invaded by Chinese pirates, threatened by Dutch forces, and held by the British, Americans and Japanese at various times. But it did survive until the closing days of WWII, when it was finally heavily damaged by US bombing during the battle to recapture the city from the Japanese Imperial Army, by which time the walls were almost all that remained.
 

Reconstruction of the walls was started in 1951 when Intramuros was declared a National Historical Monument; but that didn’t stop the Global Heritage Fund identifying the place as one of 12 worldwide sites "on the verge of irreparable loss and destruction" in its 2010 report entitled Saving Our Vanishing Heritage, citing poor management together with development pressures.
 

Anyway, one of the most famous gates in the wall is the Postigo del Palacio, which was built in 1662, and renovated 120 years later. On 30 Dec 1896, the Philippines’ national hero José Rizal was taken through this gate from Fort Santiago en route to the place of his execution at Bagumbayan, in what today has become Rizal Park. Damaged in the battle of Manila in 1945, the gate was restored in 1968, with further restorations made in 1982.

 

Except for a brief period under British rule (1762-1764), Intramuros remained a Spanish city until 1898, when the U.S. took control of the Philippines at the end of the Spanish-American War.
 

Before the American Era, entrance to the city was through eight gates. Drawbridges were raised and the city was closed from 11 pm till 4 am every night, continuing in this way until 1852, when, following a major earthquake, it was decreed that the gates should thenceforth remain open 24/7.
 

Amazingly, there has not been that much commercialisation taking place inside the walls. The exception is the establishment of one or two fast food outlets such as Jollibee, McDonald's and Starbucks which are all full to bursting due to the patronage of the student population within Intramuros.
 

But apart from the Golden Arches et al, there has been quite a bit of effort made to restore Intramuros to its former glory. You would be hard pressed to know that many of the buildings have been almost entirely rebuilt. And the Spanish colonial architecture is surely what makes this area so attractive.
 

Here, for instance, is the ECJ Building, which is one of my favourites. It was formerly the site of Casa Nueva – the provincial house of the Augustinian Order. When it was destroyed by a fire in 1932, a two-story building belonging to Adamson University was constructed, but this was also destroyed in the 1945 bombings. The Institution was founded in 1932 by George Lucas Adamson, a Greek national living in the Philippines, as a School of Industrial Chemistry and Engineering. The first school building was located at San Miguel, then transferred here to Intramuros, and during the war, to Meralco.
 

If you’re wondering what ECJ is all about, I’m told it stands for Eduardo Cojuangco Jr. who is the chairman of San Miguel Corporation (the largest food and beverage corporation in the Philippines and Southeast Asia), former Philippine ambassador, and a former governor of Tarlac. It has been estimated that, at one time, his business empire accounted for 25% of the gross national product of the Philippines. He was a candidate for the presidency in 1992, ultimately losing to Fidel Ramos, who got 23.6% of the vote. Miriam Defensor Santiago (my heroine!) came in second with 19.7% and Cojuangco came in third with 18.2%.

 

Actually there are loads of attractive buildings. This, for instance, is the Bagumbayan Light and Sound Museum showcasing the life of José Rizal. It used to be the site of the first Filipino congregation of religious women, called Beaterio de la Compañia de Jesus which was founded in 1684, but it too was destroyed in 1945.

 

But wherever you are in this city-within-a-city, you are never far away from the walls which enclose the 160 acres. An inner moat (or foso) surrounds the perimeter of the wall and an outer moat (contrafoso) surrounds the walls that face the city.
 

Several bulwarks (baluarte), ravelins (ravellin) and redoubts (reductos) are also strategically located, following the design of medieval fortifications. The seven bastions were constructed at different periods of time, which is why they all appear so different from one another.
 

One of the future plans of the Intramuros Administration is to complete the perimeter walls that surround the city so that visitors will be able to completely circumnavigate the area from the walkway on top of the walls.

 

Although most of the walkways are still solid enough, many of the walls, gates and bulwarks are covered in weeds and are crying out for a bit of TLC. Given the amount of visitors coming every day you would think that a bit of sprucing up of the said stonework would be money well spent…

 

When the Americans took over, they made drastic changes to the city, such as in 1903, when the walls from the Santo Domingo Gate up to the Almacenes Gate were removed, as the wharf on the southern bank of the Pasig River was improved. The double moats that surrounded Intramuros were deemed unsanitary and were filled in with mud dredged from Manila Bay where the present Port of Manila is now located. The moats were then transformed into a municipal golf course!

 

Along the top of one wall are metal picture casts of past Philippine presidents, starting with the first President – Emilio Aguinaldo – and going through to Gloria Arroyo. Here are the mugshots of Ferdinand Marcos and Corazon Acquino…

 

Actually, it's all but impossible to get lost in Intramuros, thanks to the district's orderly street plan. General Luna is the main street cutting a swathe through to most of the major attractions, including San Agustín Church and Manila Cathedral, the latter being the seat of the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Manila and one of the most important churches in the Philippines. Although it was reconstructed in the 1950s, it has also been locked tightly shut for urgent structural repairs since February 2012, and no definite date has been given for its reopening, which probably means it will be closed for a very long time to come!

 

Although somewhat less imposing than the Cathedral, San Agustin Church (originally known as "Iglesia de San Pablo") is arguably much more attractive. It was founded in 1571 and built by 1589 and is the oldest stone church in the Philippines. It is said that from 1565 to 1898 close to 3,000 Augustinians worked in the Philippines. They founded 328 parishes, and in 1897 it is estimated that some three million Filipinos were under their care.
 

The church is steeped in history. It has witnessed major events – for instance it was in the sacristy of the church that the Spaniards and Americans discussed and signed the terms of surrender of the city of Manila to the Americans in 1898. And during the last days of the Battle of Manila in 1945, hundreds of Intramuros residents were gathered and held hostage in the church by Japanese soldiers.
 

San Agustin Church also survived looting by the British forces, who occupied Manila in 1762 during the Seven Years' War. In 1863, a strong earthquake hit Manila leaving San Agustin Church as the only public building left undamaged in the city. The earthquake of 1880 left a huge crack in the left bell tower of the church but it was eventually repaired. The church also withstood many other major earthquakes that struck Manila in 1645, 1699, 1754, 1796, 1825 and 1852. In 1993, it was one of four Philippine churches constructed during the Spanish colonial period to be designated as a World Heritage Site by UNESCO.
 

Mind you, San Agustín's neighbouring monastery was damaged during the war and was subsequently refashioned into exhibition space which is used for the San Agustín Museum.

 

They say the museum's pretty impressive, if rather poorly labelled. There are collections of Spanish colonial-era ecclesiastical vestments, sacred vessels, religious art, manuscripts, and other important cultural artefacts. But I’m afraid I gave the museum a miss this time – not being that turned on by ecclesiastical memorabilia – and headed instead to the main part of the church.
 

I particularly like the four stone lion statues guarding the entrance, in particular this one on the right picking his teeth with what looks like a 17th century sex toy (not, you understand, that I am an expert in such things!).

 

There’s loads of wooden carvings, both inside and outside – as found here on the main entrance portal whose carvings are quite intricate.

 

The inside of the church is also intricate, and has a very Spanish feel to it and is much more welcoming than some of the more austere churches you can find around the place.

 

And this gate leading into the nether reaches of the church looks like it was made by a metalsmith who just didn’t know when to stop. I quite like it though!

 

The ceiling of San Agustín Church is also attractive, with its trompe l'oeil murals throwing out a seemingly 3D image to the worshippers below…

 

Having absorbed my fill of culture at this splendid church, I moseyed outside once more and turned a corner to come face to face with another restaurant in the Barbara's chain, this one located at the Plaza San Luis.

 

Apparently this restaurant elicits very mixed emotions, if those on the web are anything to go by. “Food is normal, but good entertainment” says one, referring to the cultural performances that are part and parcel of the evening fayre.
 

“Too dirty, too old and some areas need repair,” gushes another. “Unfriendly staff but the food is okay.”
 

“Food is not stunning but is not bad either,” begrudgingly agrees a third; while yet another recorded “very basic meals by the look of them. We only had quesadillas and taquitos that were somewhat bland but expensive.”
 

Further research makes me somewhat relieved that I didn’t give in to my hunger pangs after my morning constitutional. “The water is dirty since their is something floating in my drink,” wrote one customer, while another reported “Disappointing service, so-so food, dirty water, and baby cockroaches.”
 

Well that does it! Why only baby cockroaches? Surely everyone knows that you can find big fat juicy ones all over Manila? No, I think I will well and truly keep this eatery on my list of restaurant nearly-rans. Now, where did I see those Golden Arches? I’ll bet they don’t use babies in their roachburgers!