Having only ever spoke on facebook we made our proper introductions, then I got Pete a drink and replenished my own. Then we parked ourselves at a table in the corner and Pete had a look through the famed set of cigarette cards. Having worked all over the country over the years, he knew quite a lot of the pubs and had drank in several of them.
After half an hour or so another guest arrived. Dave Brown (no relation to Pete), a member of Shrewsbury civic society, had agreed to meet us to give us a bit more of the history of the pub and here he was with his wife. Introductions all round and I got the pair of them a drink (and replenished my own, again), then they joined us at our table.
Dave's passion is the history of pubs and in particular the pub's signs and any like minded people in the area would be most welcome to contact the Civic Society in Shrewsbury to join with Dave in helping to preserve this important part of our heritage.
Dave was a mine of information and had a lot of old books regarding the hostelries of Shrewsbury (for some strange reason he didn't want to let me have them. Said he wanted to keep them???) and he told me some interesting stuff about The Kings Head (for instance, it was Dave that told me about the pub moving twice).
The best stories for me though were the two concerning the naming of the pub and the alley that runs down the side of it, known as The Kings Head Passage.
In 1485 Harri Tudur arrived at the Welsh bridge with an army 5000 strong, wishing to enter Shrewsbury. The Sheriff of Shropshire, Thomas Mytton, stood on the bridge and refused him entry saying that "only over my body will you enter". By morning, persuaded by either the townsfolk or the size of Harri Tudurs' army, Mr Mytton had changed his mind but did not want to appear weak, so he lay on the bridge, face up, and Harri Tudur stepped over him. This way neither man would lose face.
Harri Tudur later proceeded to Bosworth field in Leicestershire where he defeated Richard III and he became better known as Henry VII and so his picture adorns the Kings Head sign to this day.
The other story is a little more involved.
The crusades were over for most and the city of Jerusalem was won. People flocked to Jerusalem on pilgrimage but the Moslems still controlled Palestine and the roads were dangerous for the pilgrims. A few of the crusaders saw what was happening and banded together to form a group of warrior monks to protect the travellers. They were given quarters on Mount Moriah, thought to once be the stables of the Temple of Solomon. And so they called themselves the Knights Templar.
The order grew and became more powerful and influential outside their quarters....... but inside they were working too, digging down beneath the Holy Temple searching the catacombs below. There had been rumours about holy relics buried beneath for years and they, indeed, found six sacred treasures there including the head of King Solomon, so holy that it was perfectly preserved, the skin still soft and the hair silky.
But Jerusalem was still a dangerous place and a meeting of the Knights was held to arrange safe passage of the relics to Christian lands,.... but where? They discussed and argued all day but could not reach an agreement. Eventually they retired for the night and would carry on their deliberations the next day.
That night one of the Knights dreamed that he woke to find his room bathed in light and a silvery figure standing by his bed.
"Bring them to me" the ghostly figure cried and the Knight woke up.
The next day he told the rest of the order about his dream. " Of course" cried one. "St Alkmund, the temple protector! He has six churches back in England. We will take one relic to each of his churches and he will guard them".
Six of the best, handpicked, Knights travelled for many days until they reached the shores of England when they travelled into the heart of the country. One by one the nights peeled off to their destinations until there was just one left, heading for Shrewsbury. This night was carrying King Solomon's Head.
The night entered the town a couple of hours after dark. He was tired, hungry and dirty so went to an inn for sleep, food and a bath. He would go to St Alkmunds in the morning, clean and refreshed. However, during his meal he heard many disturbing things and called the innkeeper for more information. He was told of many strange happenings, a black bull rampaging through the town, bowling over people on their way to church, bricks and roof tiles falling on people for no apparent reason, strange, inhuman laughter at night. " It's as if the Devil himself were walking the streets" said the innkeeper.
What was the Knight going to do? Shrewsbury didn't sound much like a place suitable for the safekeeping of a holy relic. But if he didn't leave it at the church, what would he do with it? After much tossing and turning that night, he finally fell asleep. But he didn't have the good nights sleep he was hoping for.
In the middle of the night he woke to find his room bathed in a soft silver glow. It appeared to be coming from the bag containing King Solomon's head. The Knight cautiously climbed out of bed and crept over to the bag. He pulled out the head and the eyes snapped open and focused on the knight.
The knight almost dropped the head! His eyes widened and he gulped a deep breath. Then the mouth of the head opened and began to speak.
"This is where I am destined to be. What better place could I be than here to protect the town from the Devil? For I believe the Devil himself is loose in Shrewsbury, but he is not difficult to beat. He's as vain as a peacock, as greedy as an alchemist and stupid enough to believe that he's clever. You must challenge him to a competition tomorrow...............a riddle competition!
"B..b..but I'm no good at riddles" stuttered the knight.
"Ah, but I am" said the head.
And so they made their plans. The knight spent the next day wandering the streets of Shrewsbury, dreading the coming of night. Eventually the sun began to sink in the west. The knight plucked up his courage and found a dark, deserted alleyway. He took a deep breath and addressed the darkness.
"Lord Lucifer, I challenge you to a battle of wits!"
"Oh really? said a voice. The knight turned to find himself face to face with a tall elegant man twirling the end of his moustache between thumb and forefinger and looking him over with coal-black soul-less eyes.