Another sojourn into Suffolk, on the tourist trail again. This time, the historic market town of Bury St Edmunds.

Despite its name, there is only one St Edmund buried there — at least I think so. His was an ignominious ending and, despite some calls for him to be made the patron saint of England all over again, I have to say I have my doubts.

What makes a saint? You can be made a saint if you are a spiritual role model during your life. Saints show how everyday people with struggles and flaws can overcome challenges through faith.

Okay, so why was King Edmund made a saint? Let’s take a little look. Primarily, for no other reason than he was executed by the Viking Great Heathen Army in 869 CE. The part of the army that raided and pillaged East Anglia was led by Ivar the Boneless. What a great nickname — I wonder if anyone ever called him that to his face.

It seems like his favourite method of despatching enemy leaders, especially the Christian ones, was the gruesome blood eagle. I can’t even bring myself to describe it, it is so horrific, so you’ll have to look that one up yourselves. Don’t come running to me if it gives you nightmares.

Edmund was reputed to have been a fan of St Sebastian, a Roman soldier who followed the Christian faith. Emperor Diocletian — that’s the same one who gave his name to the Diocletianic Persecution — decided to purge his kingdom of Christians, so had Seb tied to a tree and shot full of arrows. You should always check your work first.

Irene of Rome spotted that Seb was still breathing and nursed him back to health.
Now, most in his shoes would have recovered from their wounds and got as far away from Diocletian as possible. Oh no, not our Seb. He sought out the most powerful man in the world at the time and confronted him. What on earth was going through his mind? He informed the emperor that all his sins were going to find him out. Dio did not take kindly to this and, to show his gratitude, had Seb clubbed to death.

Skip forward nearly six hundred years and Ivar, not known for his gentle ways, decided to have Edmund clubbed first before tying him to a tree and pouring arrows into him. That ought to do it but, just in case it didn’t, he ordered Eddie’s head to be cut off. Edmund never rose again.

If you are wondering why this earned him a sainthood, so am I. This is where a miracle takes place. Apparently, God, feeling sorry for the headless Edmund, sent a wolf to guard the severed part until such time that his followers showed up to claim it. Well done to the wolf. It is a wonder to me that if wolves were so loyal to humans, why did we hunt them to extinction in this country? Fine reward that is.

From Beodricsworth to Bury, and a New Exhibition

Once found — not a bite mark on them — his remains were taken to a small settlement, Beodricsworth, for safekeeping. It wasn’t long before the Angles and Saxons realised their noble king was buried at this place. So, the Abbey of King Edmund was born, with thousands flocking to the shrine each year.

It was in the tenth century before the good burghers of the town decided to rename it, thus St Edmundsbury came into being. There does not appear to have been a single moment when it changed to Bury St Edmunds. It seems like it simply evolved into the name we know today. Maybe it was as a result of the Abbey itself, known as the Bury St Edmund’s Abbey. The town is often, and colloquially, known as just Bury.

The Abbey was mostly demolished in 1539 following the dissolution of the monasteries by the then vandal‑in‑chief, King Henry VIII. From a buildings point of view, he did a major disservice to the country, depriving us of many grand structures to this day. The ruins are well looked after within a park very close to the town centre.

It strikes me that Sebastian and Edmund lacked a little forethought in decision‑making. And that is why they were made into saints.

Edmund was, in actual fact, England’s first patron saint. He was superseded in 1348 by order of King Edward III. George rose to even more prominence in 1415 when Henry V gave that inspiring speech at Agincourt — quite incredibly, nearly 200 years before Shakespeare, Tudor propagandist‑in‑chief, retrospectively wrote it for him.

I am not sure why we ditched Edmund so unceremoniously, but I presume, given the two kings above, they would have preferred to be associated more with a winner than a loser. After all, the story of a Georgian priest saving a maiden in distress by slaughtering her kidnapper — a dragon — carries far more credence.

Whilst refreshing my knowledge surrounding the sad demise of King Edmund, although I only think he had himself to blame, I discovered that there is a new exhibition starting today highlighting the story. He was offered the opportunity of staying alive — by the way, got a B towards the Bee Gees challenge, check it out. If only he had agreed to adopt the religion of the heathens and rule as a vassal king.

I know what I would have done: I would have taken Ivar’s hand off at the elbow when accepting his very kind offer. I am happier being a live coward than a dead saint. The exhibition will be on show at the Moyses Hall Museum in the town and I, for one, can’t wait to visit in a couple of weeks.

The run at Nowton Park

Onto the run itself. This was a new one for Jane and me. A new event, with Nowton Park being a fair old journey away at that, meant I was on the search for a new VI Guide for the event. In the end, the marvellous Val Haynes responded positively to my clarion call. We met her, along with her husband, Les, minutes before the start.

We listened to the Run Director, Steve Pretty, make all the familiar announcements. Val leaned over and whispered that there was a lady signing. I do not ever recall this happening at an event I have attended previously, so more power to the elbow of Yvonne Freiherr‑Fenton. It would be great to see more of this at other places.

The course was quite a gentle little number really. Up a slight hill to begin with, through an avenue of trees — I am reliably informed they were limes; if they weren’t, I have to consider the source unreliable. Broad grassland morphed into narrower trails before eventually we entered the woodland.

We had been warned that it would turn dark, particularly on such a bright day, but I have experienced worse. Out of the woods we continued on paths until we went around the all‑weather games area — the only bit of paved surface on the entire course — prior to emerging for the second of the two laps.

All around the same circuit again, extended slightly to the finish funnel.
To sum up, although the course is very slightly undulating, it is easily accessible and good fun to run. I did get tickled up by some nettles in the woods but, on the whole, came away unscathed. Good job, Val — I hope we can run together again some time.

Find Out More
Bury St Edmunds parkrun: https://www.parkrun.org.uk/burystedmunds
Parkrun: https://www.parkrun.org.uk
Nowton Park: https://www.whatsonwestsuffolk.co.uk
Edmund and the Great Heathen Army: https://www.moyseshall.org

White Cane Ratings* ©
Car Park: average; not free - 🦯 🦯 (2)
Welcome and Briefing: very good - 🦯 🦯 🦯 🦯 (4)
Atmosphere: very good - 🦯 🦯 🦯 🦯 (4)
Course: very good; mixed terrain – 🦯 🦯 🦯 🦯 (4)
Marshalling: very good; concise - 🦯 🦯 🦯 🦯 (4)
*These ratings are how the event suits this particular blind person and are my opinion only; they are not scientific. Whatever happens no-one must be put off by me. The best way to learn about something is try it for yourself.

I hope to return to the Caribbean for next week’s offering. I am, however, diarised to take part in a sailing experience which, if providing enough interest, will feature prominently. If I am an abject failure, I won’t mention it. If I drown, you won’t hear from me again.