On the way to Liverpool I
called at a quiet quintessentially English village to find the grave of a
giant. John was alleged to be 9 feet 3 inches (2.82 m) tall but he was lived in
the Shakespearian era so there are no photos or official documents to prove
anything. In his tiny house he slept with his feet poking out of the window.
Hale is south of Liverpool city, a quiet
picturesque setting you might see in a film adaption of an Agatha Christie
novel. I went into the churchyard. As it was a hot Sunday morning the church
door was open and I could hear the vicar administering a service. As the graveyard
is small I soon found the giant’s resting place. I was expecting bigger - I'm
sure I've got a porn film with that title.
Due to John's height and heft the sheriff of
Lancashire hired him as a bodyguard. When King James I arrived in the village
to hand the sheriff a knighthood he invited the giant too so he could witness
his height. Perhaps he was the tallest man that's ever lived in Britain. The
sheriff and John were invited to visit the King at home and took up the offer in
1620 (John was 42.) The giant wrestled the King's champion wrestler and somehow
broke the man's thumb. He received £20 for winning - a fortune in those times.
While returning north to Hale he was beaten up or swindled out of the money.
He died penniless in 1623 aged 45 and now lies while
I’m stood. He was probably one of the tallest people in history. Not much to
see at the grave however there’s a huge statue of John on the lane outside the
church. A plaque on a cottage's gable wall says he was born there. Over the
years historians have doubted the giant’s height and it’s thought his bones
were exhumed during the Victorian era and were nine feet three inches as
stated. He’s had his portrait painted twice - how many times have you had yours
painted?
As I left three young innocent kids in summer
frocks were gambolling about on the church steps. I was going to take a photo
but thought a curtain-twitcher might ring the police
so I didn't bother. There seemed to be some kind of scarecrow event on as some
gardens had them stood in their gardens. I noticed some of their clothes were
newer and better than mine. It was time to head up to Liverpool to search for
more graves. I did a salute and left.