ST PANCRAS...

St Pancras. Tuesday 12th May, 2020.

We know very little of St Pancras. In myth it seems he was merely 14 years old when martyred in the time of Emperor Diocletian.

Whenever I see or hear the words St Pancras I think of the magnificent railway station in London. Eurostar is based there and when I lived in Bedford and Derby I travelled from that station and ever admired its architecture.

Also will come to mind the name of Sir John Betjeman. He was the authority and public voice raised to stop the wholesale reconstruction and thus destruction of St Pancras. There was, and probably still is, a statue of him in the forecourt. I admire Betjeman hugely for his poetry and his defence of so many buildings over his lifetime. I can claim to know someone who knew him well. She told me many stories and I recall especially his supposed dread and fear of death.

In that he was almost the total opposite of the martyr Pancras.

Betjeman gave voice in his poetry to a 'way of life' that was passing or had passed. He chronicled eras and towns, villages and churches and buildings as well as people and their lives now gone. In so doing he kept and keeps alive for us part of our heritage.

St Pancras also keeps alive for us by his martyrdom a part of our soul, our being: the call to belief and principle to the point of self sacrifice.

In honour of St Pancras the martyr I prayed.

In honour of St Pancras the railway station I read some of Betjeman's poems.

The opening verse of 'Parliament Hill Fields ':

"Rumbling under blackened girders, Midland, bound for Cricklewood,

  Puffed its sulphur to the sunset where the Land of Laundries stood,

  Rumble under, thunder over, train and tram alternate go,

  Shake the floor and smudge the ledger, Charrington, Sells, Dale and Co.,

  Nuts and nuggets in the window, trucks along the lines below."

I think our way of life is passing. Certainly the pandemic has had its martyrs, has its recorders and has those who wonder how to preserve the good it threatens.

In his poem 'The Cottage Hospital' Betjeman wrote of dying:

" And say shall I groan in dying,

        as I twist the sweaty sheet?

  Or gasp for breath uncaring,

          as I feel my sense drown'd"

Covid -19 is more of a tyrant than Diocletian.

We will defend our lives to the point of martyrdom against it. 

#eurostar #stpancras #betjeman #sirjohnbetjemin #london