The play is in itself inherently improbable and in parts excessively coarse and painful

King Lear it shall be, though the play is in itself inherently improbable and in parts excessively coarse and painful. But they may do it in modern clothes, or in the dark, or all standing on stepladders. You never know. King Lear it shall be.

A. Thirkell, High rising (1933), 177-8 

Obviously none of those assistant-masters’ wives could rise above a suburban tennis club

‘I can’t think why it is that headmasters and men who are destined to be house-masters marry the right kind of wife and the others don’t. I mean, without undue modesty, I make a fairly good headmaster’s wife, and if Bill were in any other profession he needn’t be ashamed of me. But obviously none of those assistant-masters’ wives could rise above a suburban tennis club. It’s very depressing and mysterious.’ 

‘I’ve often noticed the same thing about the clergy,’ said Laura. ‘Archdeacons and bishops and such like have really good wives; often they are Honourables, or even Lady Agneses. But just look at the wives of the inferior clergy. There must be an unseen providence to see that men destined for eminence in the Church, or the scholastic world, should have what one can only call, looking at you, Amy, suitable helpmeets. Or is it helpmates? People write to the newspapers every now and then about it, but I can never remember what they say.’

A. Thirkell, High rising (1933), 114-5

To go to church on social grounds was perhaps a little better than not going at all

'we must go to church once in the holidays, or the vicar would be disappointed,' said Laura, feeling that to go to church on social grounds was perhaps a little better than not going at all. Besides one ought to have a Church Service as part of ones background on account of the beauty of the language.  

A. Thirkell, High rising (1933), 102

The Reformation had caused a set-back of some hundred years in domestic sanitation

her attention was entirely absorbed by George Knox, who was laying down a theory that the Reformation had caused a set-back of some hundred years in domestic sanitation.

... 'not religion - drains, drains, my dear Laura. If there was one thing the world before the Reformation thoroughly understood, it was Drains. Look at Norman castles. Show me the Norman castle you can explore without falling down a thirty-foot shaft at every corner.'

 A. Thirkell, High rising (1933), 87 & 89

For the first time, probably, since the age of the Atlantic slave trade, the majority of black Britons or their parents have come to this country directly from Africa

As well as losing sight of the more distant past our focus on the post-war story has meant that, at times, we have been slow to recognize more recent changes. Since the start of the 1980s Britain has undergone a second great wave of black migration, one that has largely gone unnoticed. This new influx lacked a single iconic moment, comparable to the docking of the Windrush in 1948, and it took place in the far less romantic settings of Gatwick and Heathrow airports, but it was in those great hubs of modern air travel that thousands of Africans arrived – despite ever stricter immigration laws. At the turn of the century West Indians still made up the majority of the UK’s black population. But, as the 2011 census revealed, between 2001 and 2011 the British African population doubled, through both migration and natural increase. For the first time, probably, since the age of the Atlantic slave trade, the majority of black Britons or their parents have come to this country directly from Africa, rather than from somewhere in the Americas.

D. Olusoga, Black and British: A Forgotten History (2016), loc. 9,380

Wilberforce and his supporters ... shared the pews of their little church with their greatest and most effective enemy

With funds collected from the slave owners, traders and others who had financial interests in the continuation of slavery, Hibbert built a war-chest with which he funded his activities. In our traditional telling of the history of slavery, which is so heavily focused on the abolitionists and their struggles, the men against whom the abolitionists struggled have, bizarrely, been written out of the story. With our national gaze fixed firmly on the saintly figure of William Wilberforce, George Hibbert remains a forgotten figure. Yet his association with Wilberforce runs deep, and without him this history is incomplete. Both Wilberforce and Hibbert lived in homes overlooking Clapham Common and both men worshipped at Holy Trinity, an elegant Georgian church that stands under the shade of some broad trees in one corner of the Common. Wilberforce and his supporters – the pious men of what was called the Clapham Sect and sometimes the Clapham Saints – shared the pews of their little church with their greatest and most effective enemy. There are no records of services being disrupted of passions spilling over. While the names of the Clapham Saints are engraved into a stone plaque fixed into the walls of Holy Trinity, George Hibbert is notably absent. Whereas the home that Wilberforce shared with his cousin Henry Thornton is proudly and rightly stamped with a blue heritage plaque, the elegant town house that once belonged to George Hibbert is unmarked and anonymous.

D. Olusoga, Black and British: A Forgotten History (2016), loc. 4,044

Philip did not invoke the so-called ‘Salic Law’

Even so, the assembly’s decision was not unreasonable. Made to choose between a little girl of dubious parentage supported by the lord of a far-off territory, on the one hand, and an adult man of certain pedigree who was now anointed with the heavenly chrism, on the other, they understandably approved Philip accession. But they also recognized Philip’s eight-month-old son Louis-Philip as heir to the realm. That act transformed what might have been a one-off decision into an enduring principle. ‘And so,’ concluded the chroniclers at Saint-Denis, ‘it was declared that women do not succeed in the kingdom of France.’ A verdict of monumental importance, the consequences of this flat denial of a woman’s right to rule France have echoed down the centuries, even to the present day. But opposition lingered, for Philip’s claim, said a chronicler, ‘could not be easily proven’. Indeed, there was no proof. Philip did not invoke the so-called ‘Salic Law’, a long-defunct sixth-century legal compilation which had little relevance to the case at hand. The first such reference to the Salic Law did not come until forty years later, and it was rarely cited until the fifteenth century. Unsubstantiated as well as unprecedented, Philip’s power-play worried some people and angered others.

J. Firnhaber-Baker, House of Lilies: The Dynasty that Made Medieval France (2024), loc. 5,495