Sitting here writing this piece with the rain lashing down outside, roads in the village flooded and a distinctly cold feeling, it is quite difficult to remember that personally, my wife and I have had weeks of sunshine and warmth since I last wrote. Cornwall in July and August offered nearly three weeks of unbroken sunshine, once we had survived the storm that flooded Padstow, while a later week on the Thames saw no rain at all. Since then we have been at home and surprised at the relative lack of regular rain except for the quite unexpectedly severe storms that have occasionally flooded areas of the south. This pattern of very severe weather and hot spells that has occurred throughout much of the year 2000, has had varying effects on the wildlife. For some it has meant ample food and successful raising of families, but for others poor breeding conditions, starvation and death. Our neighbour rescued a Kestrel in distress that the Postman had spotted nearby. She kindly took it to the animal hospital in Lytchett Matravers where they were able to say that it was simply starving. This Kestrel was one of a brood successfully reared on the farm opposite us, probably by the female bird treated and returned to us by the same hospital after a road accident at Garston Wood, a year earlier.
The very hot period in late winter and then another cold and wet spring has proved too much for the Dormice. We had to cancel the Special Open Day in September because there were simply none about. By August, only one area showed any signs of animals but that did include one youngster. I am glad to say that, since then, there are signs of late breeding in four more areas, including a pregnant female. Sadly, with the present weather patterns, those young born late have very little chance of surviving the winter unless they can put on enough weight very quickly, before the cold and wet sets in. Sufficient food will be the answer and as many of you will have noticed, this year there is a bumper crop of hazelnuts in the woods and hedges. This unusually large crop is not a local occurrence but is being reported by observers throughout the country. Is this a sign of anything? Will there be a hard winter? Is it a feature of the strange weather? Does anyone know the answer from folklore?
Even in Woodcutts, we know that technology is changing the world. Electronic communications, e-mails, fax, mobile phones with facilities for goodness knows what, the media with its use of satellites for international news and in the home multi-channel televisions, video players and recorders, computerised cookers, washing machines, dish washers, micro wave ovens all programmable to allow us to take advantage of every available minute. Maybe many of us can't use them, hopefully we will have children or grandchildren who can. We are very lucky in this respect, by we I mean my wife and I, having been blessed with three new grandchildren in the past three months, to add to the five we had already. In future there will be no problem in this house in setting the video, to record Emmerdale or even the odd international rugby match.
I am wandering again, I must get back to the reality of the changing world, the more ‘natural’ world, the world of plants and animals, flora and fauna; call it what you will. Here, if we are to believe the meteorologists, we have enjoyed a warm, dry, sunny summer. It has certainly been a wonderful time for growth; it was a green start, an even greener middle and a green end, with leaves outdoing flowers and fruit throughout. The gardeners amongst you, will all have different stories to tell, some had carrot failures while others had bumper crops; still more had wonderful broad beans while in some cases they were disasters and the same applies to runners. Weeds, lawn grass, hedge cuttings there were a plenty together with slugs, caterpillars and pigeons.
As time goes on we are to see more change, less variety in the seasons, fewer colour changes throughout the year, higher humidity and constant growth.
Gardening and farming patterns are set for more change, it won't only be Ireland that can be called The Emerald Island. We are a relatively fertile island, temperate with varying rainfall, from just enough to far too much, rarely have we had droughts, never to compare with Ethiopia, parts of India and the Sahel or floods to compare with Mozambique. We are indeed lucky, living in an area of ‘enough’ of most things for most people, but do we appreciate this and look after what we have?
For example, if you, as the people of Sixpenny Handley, were asked where the nearest conservation site was, what would you say? Possibly Martin Down would be the answer, but why go so far. What about the village sites, the gardens, roadsides, hedgerows, surrounding fields and woodland? Well, you will say, we don't have direct access to all these places and besides we have all our electronic gadgets at home to play with. We have far more interesting and rewarding things to do.
"Balderdash" say I, get interested in the important things of life. Forget about petrol shortages, Big Brother and Chelsea's new manager; one project springs to mind immediately. A very special project, a matter of life and death, the very essence of hope and reality, concerning the past, the present and the future.
"He's daft" I hear you saying, "Where on earth is there anything like that in this village?" There is of course a simple answer, there has to be in my case. THE CHURCHYARD. No don't stop reading now, for once I'm serious. Churchyards are often described as the dead centre of a village, in this case it is slightly to the north, but who cares? It’s great to be different. At the top of the hill, it is well drained, in a beautiful sunny spot with little competition from surrounding trees or arable land, in fact it is a very fertile spot, where everything grows prolifically. (I have been told this is because there is a lot of body in the soil. Ref. Old Bob. See last edition of The Downsman.) For some time now it has been intended that this quiet and peaceful haven should have can additional function, that of a nature reserve, where villagers young and old, visitors from near and far could all quietly and reverently enjoy the very rich flora and fauna found there. Unfortunately the live species found there, don't help with the maintenance, or assist in keeping this wonderful reserve, on your doorsteps in a suitable state, either for it's primary or secondary purposes. It is a beautiful place, quiet, peaceful and tranquil. In an odd way I find it homely, I feel I belong there and I'm only an infiltrator.
Despite the lack of help, everybody, whether regular church-goers or not, expect it to be there, manicured and waiting whenever needed. This is a large garden and needs much attention, "COULD YOU HELP" the faithful few who do their own family graves and the faithful ONE who regularly mows the pathways and adjacent areas and has done so for years, deserve your help! It's all done voluntarily.
It had occurred to me, that a standing committee of residents should be formed, but it was pointed out that they had all done their bit; so can you do yours? Maybe one day you could join them, why not make it soon? On a temporary basis of course, preferably armed with gardening tools. Apart from tidying the churchyard, we have this year attempted a plant survey, which it is hoped will be an ongoing affair. So far, over sixty species of flowering plants, fourteen trees and shrubs, several climbers and twelve grasses have been recorded; with I'm sure many more to come. Help is also required in doing this recording, so any amateur ornithologists, lepidopterists and zoologists who would like to identify resident and visiting members of the animal kingdom should come along and join in. There are birds a plenty, butterflies and moths of many species and numerous slowworms, hedgehogs, bats, bees, ants and God knows what else. (I'm sure I can safely use that phrase here.) The results of this survey will be published by the end of the year, and be available at the church. Come along, read them, tell us if we have made a mistake, inform us if there is something missing, we want your participation. Hope to see you there soon.
We can't use the old slogan Dig for Victory.
So I've created another one, Cut and rake for GOD'S sake.
The above has been written without reference to the vicar or the churchwardens.
When Charles II died suddenly in the early part of 1685, his brother James II assumed the English throne and proceeded to improve the position of Catholics in England, much to the annoyance of the Protestant majority. James, Duke of Monmouth, who was the illegitimate son of Charles II, saw an opportunity to make a claim for the throne. And so, according to Wigfield, on the 11th of June that year, the Duke landed at Lyme, where he was met by a group of sympathisers. Over the next three days he enlisted many supporters, sufficient to march on Taunton, where he hoped to recruit many more men for his army. After an abortive sortie to Bridport, in order to release more would-be recruits from the local constabulary, he began the journey to Taunton on the 15th of June. As he approached Axminster, he discovered that the Devon militia from the west, and the Somerset militia from the east, were converging on the town to cut off his push northwards. By quickening his pace, he was able to reach the town first and defend the various entry points, in sufficient force to repel the militiamen. The remainder of the journey to Taunton was uneventful, and he entered the town on the 18th of June to a "great welcome". From the town and outlying areas, he was able to recruit another "regiment" of troops, and on the 20th of June he took the controversial decision of proclaiming himself King. The proclamation stated that he was "now in arms for the defence and vindication of the Protestant religion" and would be "delivering the kingdom from the usurpation and tyranny of James, Duke of York". Recruitment of men-at-arms was always the first priority, and, with the Devon militia positioned at Wellington, Monmouth decided it would be prudent to move on to Bridgwater, where he managed to raise more voluntary contributions to his cause than anywhere else. Hoping for more support in Bristol, and he now proceeded to march towards the city, via Glastonbury and Shepton Mallet. At Keynsham, just over the hills from Bristol, Monmouth discovered that a sizeable detachment of his uncle’s troops was close by. After a council of war, he took the decision to move towards Wiltshire, where he was promised "a considerable body of horse". In a half-hearted attempt, he tried, but failed, to obtain the surrender of Bath, and travelled south to set up quarters at Norton St. Philip. His intention now was to aim for Warminster and London, but the news of his passage through the area quickly reached other units of the royal army. Although he successfully repelled attacks at Norton, his promised support did not materialise, and he continued his journey towards Warminster. However, he was forced eventually to turn westwards to Bridgwater, in the vain hope of finding more troops.
By this time, the royal army commanders were keeping a watching brief on this band of rebels. With Monmouth in Bridgwater, they decided to position the main body of royal troops on Sedgemoor, sending detachments out to cut off any retreat north and south of Bridgwater. On the afternoon of the 5th of July, Monmouth decided that his best course of action was now to march at night to Axbridge and then go north to Gloucester, via Keynsham bridge. But word came that the royal troops on Sedgemoor were not dug in, and the opportunity for a surprise night attack materialised.
At 11pm the rebels marched out on to the moor, to prepare for a frontal assault. Incredibly, they managed to march to within a mile of the royal camp without being detected. But, once the alarm was raised, the rebels were committed to the attack, and the subsequent cavalry and infantry actions were fiercely fought. Unfortunately for Monmouth, the well prepared, professional royal militia stood firm against the amateur rebels, and as daylight broke the royal horse regiments were able to move in on both rebel flanks. By mid morning the battle was over, and the rebels were in full retreat.
As history now recalls, Monmouth’s circuitous route, through Dorset, Devon, Somerset and Wiltshire, had failed to produce the size of army he needed for a successful campaign. At Sedgemoor, he made the fatal mistake of taking on a better-trained, better-disciplined royal army with insufficient troops. The battle in this flat area of Somerset was in fact the last to be fought on English soil.
Tired and disheartened, Monmouth fled the field with a small group of friends and found shelter at Downside, north of Shepton Mallet. Their new objective was to make for Poole or Lymington on the south coast. On the morning of the 7th of July, they crossed into Dorset near Gillingham, and made their way to the Hampshire county boundary at Woodyates. The downland folds of northern Dorset provided useful cover for the fugitives, helping them to avoid the searching parties of royal militia.
According to the "History of the County of Dorset", the Duke of Monmouth was eventually captured "at Woodyates, close to the county boundary". Wigfield’s account of his capture reveals much more. Monmouth changed clothes with a shepherd near the Woodyates Inn, and the group continued their journey (presumably through Pentridge) to Wimborne St. Giles. Here they unsaddled the horses they had ridden for many miles that day, hid the saddles and bridles, and turned the horses loose. They now continued on foot towards Poole. Not able to keep up with the pace, Monmouth was soon separated from his companions, and as night fell the Duke found shelter alone in a ditch under an ash tree near Horton. Having been spotted by an old cottager, the Duke was captured by Sussex militiamen on the morning of the 8th of July, cold and starving. In his pockets the would-be king had only a handful of raw peas and the badge of the Order of the Garter, given to him by his father.
The Duke of Monmouth was taken to London and subsequently executed for high treason. But his actions were not without significance, and his endeavours on behalf of the Protestants were almost a prelude to what was to happen, only three years later. In 1688, after the birth of James II's son (later known as the Old Pretender), a group of Protestant peers, fearing a succession of Catholic kings, invited William, Prince of Orange, to become joint sovereign with Mary, James II's daughter. On Prince William's arrival, the unpopular king was forced to flee the throne and mercifully end an unhappy reign, which was predicated on the Bloody Assizes following the rebellion.