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History for Modern Times, like Sir Everard Digby
Gayhurst House

In the unlikely event that anyone actually reads these pieces, I’ve been a little concerned of late that, having been couched in the educational system of the 1960s, perhaps the style of writing, especially as regards punctuation and grammar, may seem a little alien to modern youth. Also, for all I know history may have even been dropped as a required subject, to be replaced by some topic more appropriate to the modern culture - perhaps binge drinking, or football studies. And so regarding these concerns I’ve decided - just for this topical piece - to use a wording and style which might hopefully connect with today’s school population, with of course an accompanying sub text for the older readers. So having listened to the word on the street, here goes. Yo, dudes; (hello, everybody.) I’m like (frequent interjection, inserted into most sentences) gonna (going to) tell you about Sir Everard Digby, some ream (good looking) burly (virile young man) who hung out (lived) at a massif crib (large mansion, actually Gayhurst House) at Gayhurst. He ain’t like no townie (he lived in the country) and was well sharkle (awesome) with the sword and well into rappin (an accomplished musician). Also right peng (very attractive) to the ladies, and well choice in the nut huggers (especially in tight fitting hose.) Then one day in October 1605, instead of cooching (chilling out) at the pad (Gayhurst House) he meets one of his bred’rin (friends), Robert Catesby, at Harrowden, near Wellingborough, and this blad (bloke) tells him that cos (because) some dudes bin (have been) dissin (disrespecting) their religion, he and the crew (his gang) are well vexed (rather upset). So they lay it down that this grief ain’t gonna happen no more (they’re not going to put up with this persecution any longer), and they’re bustin (very keen) to blow up the Houses of Parliament. Now Sir Everard is well up for this (he’s keen on the idea) and making sure they ain’t caking (lying) or frontin (being fake) he joins these skanks (good friends) in the Plot and gives them 1,500 golds (£1,500) to buy gunpowder. He’s then like appointed Commander of the ‘Warwickshire Rising,’ so that when the deed is happened (when the Houses of Parliament are blown up) this will like rally as a hunting party and seize the King’s sprog (daughter) at Combe Abbey. But bad times; (what a calamity). The Plot is discovered and the breds (conspirators) have to uppit it and bounce the endz (hurriedly flee the neighbourhood.) But Sir Everard is gripped (arrested) at Holbeach, Staffordshire, and with the Stabz (in this context, the authorities) going pure mental (not very happy with him), penned (put in prison) and brought for trial at Westminster Hall. When sentenced, with a bow he then gives it large to the bench (he addresses their lordships) and says “If I could hear any of your Lordships say you forgive me, I should go more cheerfully to the gallows.” Whoa, sympathy card, for these nobs (persons in authority) say; “God forgive you, and we do.” Coolbins; (that’s a result.) But his fate is right gantin;’ (horrible). He’s dragged on a hurdle to St. Paul’s courtyard, and hung, drawn and quartered. Yo, what a dark off; (what a bad experience.) But Sir Everard is well blench (strong) and when the executioner plucks out his heart, and proclaims ‘Here is the heart of a traitor,’ the dude with his final breath says ‘Thou lyest.’ Massif respect; (a deep appreciation for his dignity). His remains are then bigged up on Tower Hill (put on ostentatious display), and of all the conspirators he alone confessed and accepted all blame. Double massif respect; (as before, but increased by 100%). And so breds, if this account has proved intelligible to both young and old alike, then it would seem that like when it comes to ‘teen speak’ like, then what is there not to like, like.