Saturday, July 5, 2025
Home Blog Page 5

Young Lit Fix

By
MV
-

I Really want to Shout by Simon Philip
Illustrated by Lucia Gaggiotti
Templar Books RRP £6.99 Ages 3+

There once was a little girl who really wanted the Cake, and then she really wanted to win. Now she really wants to Shout because things aren’t fair, and people are mean and it’s all just too much. But shouting only makes us feel better in the moment, and often makes things worse. Fortunately, a friend who makes her laugh and a Dad who gives her a cuddle and helps her figure out what she can do instead of shouting makes everything ok again. Almost!
Any picture book requires two elements to make it a pitch-perfect family favourite—vibrant, evocative illustrations and readability (tick and tick)! Lucia Gaggiotti’s illustrations are fast and furious—perfectly reflecting a little girl who lives life on the edge of her emotions as Simon Philip’s story gallops ahead—it is an absolute thrill to read aloud.

The Monsters of Rookhaven by Pádraig Kenny
Illustrated by Edward Bettison
Macmillan Children’s Books £12.99 Ages 9+

What are Monsters?
When Tom and Jem run away from their abusive uncle they survive for a time by stealing and conning their way into digs. But eventually, people become suspicious and the next time they run Tom is sick and the car they have stolen runs out of petrol on a deserted lane in the middle of nowhere. Ever a bit of a blagger, Tom strides towards the strange circle of light in the woods and then through this tear in reality, forcing Jem to follow him. As they make their way up a path towards a large house, they just notice that the flowers are moving towards them before they are entangled and the heads of the flowers come for them bearing razor-sharp teeth! Terrified, they are rescued in the nick of time by a young girl, Mirabelle, but Tom, illness creeping, faints the moment they enter the house, leaving his little sister at the mercy of these strangest of strangers.
Kindly, Mirabelle insists that her family help them, despite Tom and Jem are from ‘Outside’. They are taken to a room, and a doctor from the nearby village is called. Tom is to stay in bed for at least a week with food and medicine, Jem is shown around by Mirabelle, with only one word of warning—she must never leave their room after dark—it’s too dangerous. For the house they have stumbled upon is a house filled with Monsters, shapeshifters from another plane with special abilities, talents and a taste for raw meat. All except Mirabelle, an orphan born in the house rather than arriving by less ordinary means. Jem is terrified as she begins to discover the truth about the denizens of this strange place, but also strangely comforted by their kindness and understanding. Mirabelle and Jem become friends, learning about each other and meeting others from the village who are like Jem but bring those at the house supplies according to an ancient treaty.
So, who are the monsters? Those who take in and care for strangers despite their differences, or those who sow discord, mistrust and anger. This is a stunningly beautiful allegorical tale, rich in language, imagery and adventure. More than that though, it helps all of us understand what it truly means to be human.

The Left-Handed Booksellers of London by Garth Nix
Gollancz Publishing RRP £18.99 Ages 14+

Technically this is being published as a ‘grown up’ book but Garth Nix is famous for his brilliant YA Abhorsen series and it has tremendous crossover appeal, so I’m slotting it in right here—it’s that good!
Set in an alternate reality, 1980s London, the Left-Handed Booksellers are Authorised to Kill…and sell books. The Right-Handed Booksellers are also a thing, they take care of research and development (and are of course, far better and their day jobs than the loose cannon Lefties).
We begin our tale in the west country, in a run-down cottage by a river near Bath. Susan Arkshaw is just embarking on a summer in London before Art School. Ostensibly her goal is to find a part-time job (slightly hard to come by in Thatcher’s London ca 1983) while her real goal is to find out who her father is, and maybe even find him. Her Mum’s always been a bit vague on the subject of her dad, but then again, her Mum’s always been a bit vague on most things.
She begins her search at her ‘Uncle’ Frank’s place, but on her first night, as she is planning on creeping away, she hears a disturbance. She enters the room to see a very young man prick Frank with a hatpin making him dissolve. She’s just trying to wrap her mind around that when she is strongly encouraged by Merlin (the young man with the pin) to follow him out the window. Things get weirder and weirder as the night progresses, ending in a police station where she is questioned, and then put up in digs so she can be ‘protected’ by the Booksellers—of which Merlin is an aforementioned Left-Handed one. Danger awaits Susan at every turn as she delves deeper into the world of booksellers, goblins and fey.
Weird, funny, creepy and a bit sweary, this is a fantastic urban fantasy adventure by a master of the craft. Highly recommend.

All titles 10% off at The Bookshop on South Street for Marshwood Vale Magazine readers.

The Lit Fix

By
MV
-

Marshwood Vale based author, Sophy Roberts, gives us her slim pickings for October 2020.

As a travel writer, I describe places through my lived experiences. When I write about Tajikistan or Chad for The Financial Times—my main source of freelance work—my writing is dictated by the facts: landscape, people, history and politics, which I try to conjure up as evocatively as possible, but in the end, the narrative has to be driven by journalism. Recently, as Covid-19 continues to wreak havoc on my profession, I’ve found myself leaning in towards fiction for inspiration during this rare moment of pause. In liberating writing from inconvenient context, words can cut straight to the heart of a place. This month, my slim pickings are all short novels, describing a sense of place so vividly I can’t summon any non-fiction that could do it better.

A Whole Life by Robert Seethaler covers the entire twentieth-century lifespan of an Austrian man of the mountains, Andreas Egger, in just 148 pages. In sparse and understated prose, Egger’s life unfolds from his point of view: his childhood, marriage, work for Bitterman & Sons clearing swathes of land for cable cars, and his time as a prisoner of war. The alpine landscapes are a lodestar throughout, as modernity gradually makes its mark on the remote community where Egger lives. With piercing, almost brutal directness, Seethaler exposes Egger’s life, the ‘white silence’ of mountain blizzards, and the sunlight falling in ‘shimmering bundles’ through tree canopies. A work of genius.

Nagasaki by Éric Faye is one of those books that lingers long after you’ve turned the last page. The protagonist is an unremarkable Japanese man, living an unexceptionable life as a middle-aged, unmarried meteorologist in Nagasaki, the Japanese city devastated by the 1945 atomic bomb. The protagonist’s modest, ordered existence (he never eats dinner later than 6.30pm; avoids drinks with colleagues, and is surrounded by ‘old-lady’ neighbours) is thrown into chaos when he begins to notice food disappearing from his fridge. He becomes increasingly involved and concerned, the story unravelling with his obsession to identify the intruder. The writing transports me straight to Japan, from the neatly folded items in the oshiire and sun-warmed rush mats, to the ‘straggly, crooked bamboo’ and the food being taken: ‘a single pickled plum’.

The Passion is a gutsy, almost hallucinogenic read by Jeanette Winterson. Loosely set in the Napoleonic era (although Winterson is careful to caution that this is a book unbound by natural laws of time or history), the sense of place is visceral. While I enjoyed following Napoleon’s campaign from France to Russia, the real draw of this book is in the magic of Winterson’s Venice descriptions (when she wrote the book, she’d never visited). I was swept along with the protagonists to the dissolute glamour of Venice’s gaming hells, to fireworks displays above St Mark’s Cathedral, breaking the sky into ‘a million coloured pieces’, and along narrow streets, watching the ‘sepulchral churches’ rise above foggy thoroughfares. This is travel so evocative, you almost couldn’t beat it with the real deal—a good thing too, given we’re all likely to be at home a while longer.

Sophy Roberts is a freelance journalist who writes about travel and culture. She writes regularly for FT Weekend, among others. Her first book, The Lost Pianos of Siberia—one of The Sunday Times top five non-fiction books for summer 2020—was published in February by Doubleday.

Buy any of the books above at Archway Bookshop in Axminster in October and receive a 10% discount when you mention Marshwood Vale Magazine. archwaybookshop.co.uk.

Seven years of My Ballet with Carla Sheills

By
MV
-

To dance can be liberating. For many mature women in West Dorset and South Somerset, this means dance classes given by Carla Sheills, who runs ‘My Ballet’. To some women, it is daunting at first to run through all those ballet exercises on the barre, but for others, it is empowering. Many did ballet as children and never believed it possible to dance again. Others have never done ballet at all. So for everyone, this is an extraordinary experience. It can unlock some good memories and eases the joints. It is a holistic experience and gives the dancers greater balance, stamina and flexibility as well as elegance, poise and a deep inner sense of well being and confidence. Much needed these days…
My Ballet’s approach is tailored to suit everybody including all shapes, sizes and abilities. Not just reed-thin youngsters. Although not as punishing as some ballet traditions, the dancers work hard. Seven years ago, back in 2013, Carla Sheills pioneered teaching her integrated method of ballet to mature ladies in Winsham village hall and in the elegant blue ballroom of the Bull Hotel in Bridport. For many ladies, it was sheer joy to be dancing ballet again. Their dreams had come true…
Carla used her skills from the Royal Academy of Dance and from pioneers of British dance movement therapy to create My Ballet. This was a real step into the unknown. Carla’s very individual approach has been a great success and has inspired many new dancers and teachers alike.
Even five years ago it was relatively unheard of for adults who had never done ballet before to start training. It was a brave thing to do but one that worked phenomenally well. This was the real thing with ballet barres and classical music.
Since then ‘My Ballet’ has gone from strength to strength and a short film was made by Justin Owen of Bridport. Within days the film went viral around the world with people watching from as far afield as Moscow and Puerto Rico, Peru, Brazil, Argentina, Mexico, Israel, Ukraine, Budapest, Tennessee and Chicago. Even Tonbridge Wells…
Carla says ‘I am humbled that our film Let Me Dance influenced so many people around the world with 2.6 million views and a reach of over 7 million. It was wonderful to hear from universities, dance schools and the Boston Ballet Company, as well as teachers and many aspiring dancers.’
But what of Carla Sheills who developed this unique approach to teaching ballet? Carla was born in London. Her father was a diplomat and her mother an artist. She grew up in South Africa and started studying the Royal Academy of Dance method from the age of six. She had excellent English dance tutors in Johannesburg. At the age of eleven, she was accepted into a ballet school and studied dance every day till she was eighteen. As Carla says ‘We trained intensively. Ballet was our bread and butter. We also studied classical Greek dance and Flamenco as well as anatomy. It was very focussed and very challenging but a huge privilege.’
‘When I was a child my grandmother called me huppelkind which means ‘hopping, bouncy child’. Nowadays I might have been called hyperactive!’ Carla spent some of her childhood on an African farm so the lush pastures of Somerset and Dorset were a great relief after the hot baking sun of the Eastern Cape.
After moving to England Carla studied Dance Movement therapy in Bristol and taught dance to children in schools for many years. But things were not always easy. In 2007 Carla discovered she had cancer and had major surgery which greatly affected her upper-body mobility.
Lying in the hospital bed in Bristol, Carla never thought she would ever dance again. The surgery felt very brutal. It was a very painful and long recovery. But being determined and a ‘bouncy, hopping child’ Carla slowly made progress and five years later began teaching again. This time focussing on adults.
To be a ballerina is a dream that many women secretly still have. But to learn to move gracefully has for many ladies been life-changing. Above all Carla wanted to communicate the sheer joy of dancing again and she found that many of her dancers have had similar problems with their health. Carla has a can-do approach. It is all in the Mind. ‘My Ballet’ is as much about the sense of community, bonding, friendship and a general feeling of self-worth which is a different approach to other ballet classes.
The success of the ‘My Ballet’ film took everyone by surprise. Carla was then consulted by the Royal Academy of Dance based in Battersea who have since launched Silver Swans around the world. Ballet has opened up greatly in the last two years.
As for teaching Carla has many different classes, usually ten a week. Every dancer has a story to tell and Carla is beginning to collect those stories for a book. The comments of her dancers are very telling.
The daughter of one of her dancers is professional ballerina Natalie Harrison, First Artist at the Royal Ballet. Carla arranged for Natalie to come down to Bridport to give a wonderful master class and this was incredibly successful.
With COVID and Lockdown in March live classes came to a halt. But Carla has been doing U Tube and ballet classes on Zoom which are very popular. For some, it has been a real lifeline. Carla is currently investigating reopening small live classes at the Bull in Bridport and in Winsham Village Hall. COVID permitting…
Advance booking is absolutely essential as places are limited. Ballet keeps you fit. Why not give it a go? Every kitchen is a ballroom… Just grab the rail of the Aga and off you go…

For more details see the My Ballet website: www.my-ballet.uk which includes the film Let Me Dance or email the secretary Sandy Wells on elegantmovement@gmail.com or phone 0786 6896978.

The Watch Project

By
MV
-

One day, walking along a road in Somerset looking at flowers that had broken through the tarmac, Julie Mathews, founder of the Watch Project in Chard, began to wonder how a little daisy could push its way through such dark heavy tarmac. At the time she was struggling with clinical depression.
As she thought about the effort and eventual success of the daisy, it became a metaphor for Julie who was trying to find a way to push herself out of the blackness that had engulfed her. She was already accessing mental health day centres and an opportunity came along for her to learn about Intentional Peer Support, where people who have experience of mental distress offer mutual support to help each other. This collaborative support helps to develop a mutually beneficial relationship. The seven-day course in Bovey Tracey was the starting point of a dramatic change for her, as well as the many that she has since helped. ‘I was totally inspired’ she said. ‘Here I was with 35 other people experiencing difficulties and learning about peer support.’ She learned much that helped her. ‘Actually talking just makes a great difference’ she said. ‘And I started to feel less stuck. I felt like people understood where I was, and I think that breaks down isolation for a start.’ She came back after the training and started the Chard Intentional Peer Support Group which was the beginning of her journey to where she is today at the Watch Project in Chard.
Many organisations exist across our region specifically to assist those with mental health issues and it is these organisations that help people from all walks of life and of all ages, with support and advice.
As part of his series of audio and video interviews for the Marshwood Vale Magazine Seth Dellow visited the Watch Project in Chard to talk with Julie Mathews.
‘Interviewing Julie Matthews gave me a broader understanding of the structure of local mental health initiatives, such as The Watch Project’ said Seth. ‘It is operating at an exciting time, with the potential for growth from further funding opportunities, facilitating more extensive practical assistance at a ground level for its members.’
More information about the Watch Project can be found at its newly redesigned website, www.watchproject.org.uk, which has a dedicated section regarding how to become involved. It outlines the organisations which are closely linked to the Project in our area, and ways in which you can, as an individual, help with fundraising. It is also interesting to note that there is further information about the partners the Watch Project work alongside, such as the Somerset Recovery and Wellbeing Alliance and the Well Wessex Group. ‘What is clearly evident’ said Seth ‘is that the translation of mental health policy into practical assistance locally, such as seen in the Watch Project, is highly valued. These lifelines support some of the most vulnerable in society, and it is important that we encourage and continue to support such inspiring community initiatives.’
Seth also interviewed mother and daughter Joan and Sarah who have both benefitted from the Watch Project. Joan’s daughter Sarah, who has lived in Chard for most of her life, suffered from manic depression about eight years ago. ‘It was that bad I completely shut myself off from the world’ explained Sarah. ‘I wouldn’t leave the house for any reason.’ She suffered so badly that she wouldn’t even talk to family or friends and couldn’t even answer the door. When a friend suggested she go to the Watch Project her first thought was that meeting strangers and sitting down for a chat and a cup of tea was her ‘worst nightmare’. Now she says it is ‘the highlight of my week. It’s a place where I can come where I am accepted for who I am.’ Sarah describes it as her ‘lifeline’. ‘My only regret’ she says ‘is not coming in sooner.’ Sarah says it’s like having a second family.
‘From my interview with Joan and Sarah’ said Seth, ‘I was struck by their honesty surrounding their own personal challenges with mental health. It is evident that both have experienced a real transformation since their involvement as members, something that will continue even despite the current situation.’
The Watch Project is a proud member of Open Mental Health, an alliance of local voluntary organisations and the NHS. It is working in partnership to ensure residents of Somerset get the support they need when they need it by providing 24/7 support to adults. Open Mental Health supports people to live a full life by enabling access to specialist mental health support, debt and employment advice, volunteering opportunities, community activities and exercise. The organisations in the alliance form part of a wider ecosystem of mental health and wellbeing support across Somerset. Anyone who is need of mental health support can call Mindline Somerset 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, on 01823 276892 or email support@openmentalhealth.org.uk.

Listen to Seth’s interviews via the following links:

Julie Mathews 1: https://bit.ly/33D6USx
Julie Mathews 2: https://bit.ly/3cew5yP
Sarah and Joan: https://bit.ly/3cbkEIm

Conspiracies & Fake News

By
MV
-

We’ve always had conspiracy theories. Any major news event results in official reaction as to what’s happened, why it occurred and who was responsible, but this is often not the end of the matter. Within a few days you can read about a whole lot of new so-called “revelations” involving secret plots, Government cover-ups and conspiracies. You must have read about some of them such as how the assassination of JFK was a CIA plot, how the moon landings were faked in a Hollywood studio and even how Sir Paul McCartney today is a hologram because he really died in 1966—a fact that’s apparently confirmed when you play a particular Beatles track backwards… Most of these concepts are nonsense, some are plain half-baked and (just maybe) one or two might contain an element of truth. But whatever the facts, there are a surprising number of people who still believe in them. Conspiracy theories don’t need true facts—they only need a suspicious nature and a firm belief!
So, here’s my lateral guide to a few contemporary conspiracies. Please be aware that none of them are actually true. But then, you never know…
Fake News—Fake Wedding: Yes, this is another Harry and Meghan story. You may have seen it apparently ‘live’ on TV in May 2018 and admired all the crowds and festivities, but the whole thing was shot in Elstree studios not Windsor Castle. The crowds were all computer generated and the choirs, chapel organ and fanfare trumpeters were digitally recorded a fortnight earlier. Since Harry and Meghan threatened to expose the whole event as a sham, they were packed off to live in California.
Bob Hope Not A Reptile: According to some people, George W. Bush and Bill and Hillary Clinton were/are part of an elite reptilian club whose aim is world domination. Although they looked perfectly normal in daytime, they grew green lizard scales at night which revealed their true identity. Bob Hope and Marilyn Monroe were also members but when it was later known that Bob Hope kept a pet lizard in his conservatory, he was removed from suspicion since no sane individual would keep a relative as a pet. Except for Michael Jackson of course.
Fake President: As you might have half-expected, there are many conspiracies surrounding US President Donald Trump. One of the more inventive is that he is a by-product of a failed experiment in genetically modified corn. It’s the hair I suppose. Blame the drug companies and American garden centres for this one. He is also variously condemned as a Russian spy or a Martian and is a secret supporter of flying saucers. Take your pick…
Coronavirus Spread By Badgers: Highly topical of course, but the origins of the pandemic are widely debated as fake conspiracies. Many say it originated in China but others say it is an escaped nerve agent from the CIA or Porton Down. Some people also blame Trump, the Eurovision song contest or Aston Villa football club. Myself? I propose the idea that badgers spread the virus and, if you don’t believe me, why is its transmission so much lower in areas where badgers have been culled? Do we know the truth? Obviously not… it’s a conspiracy!
Elvis Presley Is A Badger: According to some, badgers should be protected and revered since Elvis has been resurrected as one. This startling revelation was first announced by a Crewkerne resident who said she spotted a badger behind her garage and that he looked just like him as he was wearing dark glasses. This is obviously true since, as you all know, all badgers wear sunglasses. However, to be fair, I should point out that Elvis has also been seen at Exeter railway station, Tesco in Dorchester and drinking at the bar in the Harbour Inn in Axmouth. Mind you, he was wearing a mask at the time, so it could have been anybody. Or a badger with a mask.
Marshwood Vale: Here are a couple of regional news items… Firstly the Government has declared the whole area from Lyme Regis to Pilsdon Pen to be a total lockdown zone because of pandemic fears. Residents will not be allowed to share the same room (let alone building) as others, but only if it’s a Thursday. On Mondays, you can go shopping between 5am and 6am but not if you are under 2 feet high. Marshwood elves are exempt.
New Dorset Monument: After years of putting up with tourists complaining that the Hardy Monument (near Portesham) was such a let-down since it celebrated the wrong Hardy (Captain Hardy rather than Thomas Hardy, the writer), West Dorset Council have made plans to tear it down and erect a 100-foot statue of Sir David Attenborough in honour of his enduring vision of Dorset wildlife and climate change. Greta Thunberg will make a speech in praise of badgers at the opening ceremony to be held in Spring 2026.
OK, I admit these last two items are entirely Fake News. As are the other items… Or are they?

I saw three ships come sailing

By
MV
-

This is what the good people of Lyme Regis said in June 1685. The ships did not come into the harbour at Lyme, but proceeded a little further west to land at an empty beach, since known as the “Monmouth Beach”. On board the 32 gun frigate “Helerenbergh”, was James, the Duke of Monmouth, from exile in Holland. He was the Protestant illegitimate son of King Charles II, who had died that year, but King Charles had recognised his Catholic brother James as his successor. Fearing that King James II would make England catholic, spurred on by his supporters Monmouth decided to challenge the succession.
About 80 armed men landed on the evening of 11th of June, together with 4 cannons. Monmouth knelt in prayer, wearing the Order of the Garter, before his deep green standard with “Fear Nothing but God” embroidered in gold. The West Country was chosen for the invasion as it was then very anti-Catholic.
Within three days several thousand men, Protestants and some Dissenters, signed up to follow Monmouth, including a third of the males of Lyme. Although it has become known as “The Pitchfork Rebellion”, most of the volunteers were tradesmen and yeomen. They were not armed or trained to fight.
The spirit of the time encouraged spying and informing the magistrates. A Bridport man, William Bond, had earlier plagued local Quakers, informing about their meetings and non-attendance at the Parish Church. At an alehouse in Hawkchurch, about 4 miles from Lyme, he heard that some of the rebels were hiding in a field nearby. He went there, but was knocked down. One of the rebels took his pistol and shot him “in the belly”, apparently the favoured target of the day. He was taken to a house, “cursing and swearing” until he died. The Quaker record says “So ended that wicked informer”.
Two customs officials rode post-haste to London to the MP for Lyme, interestingly called Sir Winston Churchill. King James was informed of the landing. Soon the local militia was on standby in the south west and a group camped just east of Bridport, to intercept communication between Lyme and Weymouth.
About 10 pm on 13th June Monmouth sent 300 men to Bridport, under Lord Grey and Lieutenant-Colonel Venner, entering Allington early next morning. They met little resistance until they reached the Bull Inn (now Hotel), where two Militia Deputy Lieutenants, Edward Coker and Wadham Strangways, had billeted themselves. They opened fire from their bedroom window and Coker shot Venner “in the belly”. The rebels immediately stormed the Bull. Coker was killed by Venner. Strangways was also killed in the fight. The rebels meanwhile attacked a barrier near the end of East Street where the Militia were strong and killed several men. They shot Lord Grey’s horse under him and took some prisoners. The wounded Venner ordered a retreat back to Lyme, taking several local prisoners with them.
Monmouth decided to attack Axminster next, where the militia “melted away”. On Thursday they entered Taunton, with little opposition and more rebels joined the cause, including Prideaux of Forde Abbey. Monmouth declared himself “King” in the Market Place on Saturday 20th June. He then proceeded on to Bridgwater, Bristol and Bath, but the Royalist army, better equipped and trained under John Churchill (son of Sir Winston) met them at Frome and the tide began to turn.
On the 1st July Monmouth fell back to Wells, then retreated to Bridgwater, and a major battle at Sedgemoor, in Somerset, on 6th July resulted in his defeat. His army had used all their ammunition and Monmouth fled the field at 4 am. Some 1,500 of the men who had joined him were killed in action, out of over 3,500. The remainder were taken prisoner. Monmouth hid in crops growing on Horton Heath, but was seen by an elderly woman who reported it to Churchill’s men. Later he was found asleep in a ditch and identified by a magistrate at Holt Lodge, Somerset. He and others were taken to Ringwood. He wrote remorsefully to his uncle, the King, to no avail and was taken to London for execution on 15th July. He was allowed the privilege of being beheaded.
After the hostilities King James sent Judge Jeffreys to Dorchester where he set up what became known as the “Bloody Assizes” at the Antelope Hotel. He tried 312 rebels from Saturday 5th September, condemning 74 from Dorset to death, to be hung, drawn and quartered, boiled and burnt. Jeffreys was suffering from a kidney complaint, which probably did not improve his mood. Many more were to be transported to the West Indies, reports varying from 175 to 900. A handful were to be fined and/or whipped once a year for seven years. The London executioner, Jack Ketch, came and carried out executions at Weymouth (12 persons), Lyme (12), Sherborne (11) and Bridport (10). Not all of these people may have come from their place of execution. Jeffreys went on to serve out similar sentences at Exeter and other places. Some of those on trial were not involved with the rebellion, being away from home was considered sufficient. A fisherman from Charmouth had encountered the three ships as they arrived and it is said that he went on board to sell his fish. He came ashore with Monmouth’s men, but did not join them. Nevertheless he was executed at Wareham.
The severity of the sentences created considerable shock in the West Country and caused religious conflicts. These were only allayed when the protestant William of Orange entered a few years later.
The event was illustrated on a pack of contemporary playing cards, as described in Cullingford’s “A History of Dorset”, including 12 portraying Monmouth’s entry into Lyme, his standard, 7 rebels killed in a fight at Bridport and several of the trial and execution.
Edward Coker who was from Mapowder, Dorset was commemorated on a brass in Bridport Parish Church. Strangways has a memorial in St Mary’s, Mordon, near Swindon, Wiltshire. A stone at Sedgemoor commemorates the battle.
It has been said that the bedroom window of the Bull in Bridport was bricked up after the events of 1685. However, when I was shown the room, then called the Venner Room, a few years ago, this was not the case and the window was only partly obscured by furniture. I noticed recently that the Bull Hotel now has a discreet sign advertising “The Monmouth Bar” over a ground floor room.
Bridport History Society is unable to meet in the hall at present, so are holding Zoom meetings on computer. Those wishing to attend by zoom, please contact Jane Ferentzi-Sheppard on 01308-425710, or email jferentzi@aol.com. Next meeting Tuesday 13th October at 2.30 pm, “Loders Back-Along” by Bernard Paull.

Cecil Amor, Hon President of Bridport History Society.

A Late Summer’s Day at Cogden Beach

By
MV
-

I’ve driven along the coast road eastwards from Burton Bradstock many times but the view as the road levels out at the top of the first hill never fails to lift my spirits. That first glimpse of the sea. Those coastal hills spread out ahead as they slope gently down to the water. That vast shingle beach with its fringe of foam, stretching into the distance. This time I was on my way to Cogden Beach, part of the larger Chesil Beach and one of my favourite west Dorset places where I can be outside in the air, close to the sea and surrounded by nature.
The road dipped down and I reached the car park above Cogden but I had never seen it this full. Many people were taking advantage of the warm, sunny, late July day and I was lucky to find one of the last parking spaces. The view from the car park across Chesil Beach was as familiar and fascinating as always. The strip of pale brown shingle swept eastwards across my field of vision in a broad arc turning sharply towards Portland, its distinctive wedge shape held in a blue haze as if suspended above the water. The sea was a uniform azure, a colour so intense in that day’s strong sun that I couldn’t stop looking. Towards Portland, though, the sun intervened, casting its light downwards across the sea, silvering the surface which shimmered in the breeze like crumpled aluminium foil.
I left the car park and headed down hill towards the sea across the short grass that appeared to have been grazed recently, a pity as this had eliminated most of the flowers, and the insects. Dark sloes and ripening blackberries showed in the path-side scrub, sure signs that the year was moving on. Families passed me, some laden with colourful beach kit, others dressed for coastal walking. Stands of intensely pink, great willowherb and sun-yellow fleabane grew in a damp area as the path approached the shingle. A small flock of about 50 birds, probably starlings, surprised me by flying up from the scrub in a mini-murmuration. They banked and wheeled, flying back and forth for a short time before settling back on the bushes where they chatted noisily to one another.
I walked on to the shingle beach where, ahead of me, a small windbreak village had grown up. Some of the inhabitants were simply soaking up the sun, others were swimming or enjoying stand up paddleboards while some concentrated on their fishing. Heat shimmered from the pea-sized pebbles but a light breeze kept the temperature pleasant. Desultory waves made their way up the beach disturbing the shingle which retreated in a rush leaving some white water.
Towards the back of the shingle was the wild garden of beach plants that emerges afresh from the pebbles each spring and summer making this place so special. I stopped to look at the sea kale that grows so profusely here. Its thick, cabbage-like leaves were a glaucous green tinged with varying amounts of purple that seemed to come and go according to the angle of vision rather like the colours on a soap bubble. Flowering season was long past but the memory lingered and each clump was adorned with a large fan of hundreds of spherical greenish-yellow seeds Among the clumps of sea kale were the roughly crimped leaves of yellow horned-poppy, displaying its distinctive papery yellow flowers alongside some of the very long, scimitar-like seeds pods. The almost primaeval vision created by these rare and unusual plants growing from the shingle was completed by clumps of burdock with its prickly green and purple hedgehog-like flowers.
The coast path heads westwards along the back edge of this wild garden of beach plants and for the most part it is rough and stony. In places, however, shallow holes have appeared exposing the sandy soil beneath. Large black and yellow striped insects were moving about in some of these exposed holes. Sometimes these insects would dig, rather like a dog with sand shooting out behind them. Sometimes they encountered a small stone and lifted it away, secured between two legs. These are beewolves (Philanthus triangulum), spectacular solitary wasps up to 17mm long that were once very rare in the UK but, since the 1980s, have expanded their range.
I watched them for a short time before heading west on to the shingle. I soon reached the area where there are low cliffs at the back of the beach composed of thickly packed firm sand, topped by rough grass and clumps of desiccated thrift. These cliffs were punctuated by small holes, sometimes with a spill of sand emerging and here I found the same beewolves with their distinctive yellow and black markings. They were coming and going from the holes regularly and sometimes they would rest in a hole and look outwards.
Beewolves have an interesting lifecycle. The insects emerge from hibernation in the summer and the females begin to dig nest burrows up to a metre long in friable soil or sand with as many as 30 side burrows that act as brood chambers. At about the same time the females choose males for mating. Each female then hunts honeybees, paralysing them with her sting and bringing them back to place in each brood chamber where she also lays a single egg. This matures into a larva that feeds from the honeybees, hibernates over winter and emerges the following summer as a new beewolf. Although this may seem slightly gruesome, the number of beewolves in the UK is still low and does not impact significantly on the honeybee community. Also, adult beewolves are herbivores feeding only on pollen and nectar collected from flowers so acting as important pollinators.
I was able to witness some of this activity including a female returning with prey held beneath her to be mobbed by other beewolves and common wasps trying to steal her cargo. For most of the time, however, these insects get on with their lives quietly, unseen by visitors. I did notice one couple who chose a pleasant spot on the top of the low cliffs to sit and admire the view, only to find they were surrounded by beewolves. The couple moved but in fact these beautiful insects are not predatory and pose no threat to humans.
By mid-afternoon, it was time for me to leave. I took in one last view along the coast and headed back up the hill knowing that I would return in another season.
Cogden Beach is at the western end of Chesil Beach and can be accessed either via the South West Coast Path or from the National Trust Car Park on the coast road (B3157) between Burton Bradstock and Abbotsbury. OS grid reference SY 50401 88083, GPS coordinates 50.690271, -2.7035263.

Philip Strange is Emeritus Professor of Pharmacology at the University of Reading. He writes about science and about nature with a particular focus on how science fits in to society. His work may be read at http://philipstrange.wordpress.com/

A Glimpse into the Past

By
MV
-

After the news last month that rural media charity Windrose, which preserves old film and runs community projects in Dorset, Somerset and Wiltshire, has been given a Lottery grant lifeline, Margery Hookings delves into the archives.

The Close Encounters Media Trail is a fascinating resource. Audio and visual stories from times gone by sit alongside those of the present, throwing the spotlight on the rural countryside not only as it used to be but how it is now for those who live and work here.
I’ve just been delving around it and it’s full of little treasures. Take Will’s Surgery, for example, where the prescribed medication is cider and plenty of it. The film was made in the 1960s on the Dare family’s farm at Shave Cross, near Bridport. It is presented by a very young Clive Gunnell for Westward Television.
This ten-minute film is up on You Tube (https://youtu.be/-P2s_jcGwTY) and is well worth a watch. I ended up crying with laughter at the stories told by the ‘patients’ and Will himself, all delivered in such wonderfully rich Dorset accents.
Clive Gunnell, leaning against an apple tree laden with fruit, a stick in his right hand, introduces the film. ‘It all started, I believe, many, many years ago when a man had a row with his wife locally. And he was feeling fed up and he went out and he slammed the door and he set off to visit old Bill. And he stayed here with Bill drinking cider for some time.
‘When he got back home he was feeling so good his wife said, “well there’s a change isn’t it, what’s happened to you since you went out?” and he said, “I’ve been up to the surgery.” She said, “where?” and he said “I’ve been up to Will’s surgery and I feel a lot better now.” Ever since then it’s been known as Will’s Surgery.’ The film shows the cidermaking process in the barn, accompanied by tall tales and a raucous rendition of To Be A Farmer’s Boy.
A fascinating film about the Symondsbury Mummers was made in 1953 by folklorist the late Peter Kennedy and his colleagues. Whilst researching Thomas Hardy’s father’s manuscripts in Dorset County Museum, Kennedy had found a 19th-century reference to a mummers’ play in Symondsbury.
Windrose director Trevor Bailey said: ‘They more or less caused the play to be re-performed, after having lapsed for a while, by digging out the script and talking to old players. It has gone on being performed ever since. The full DVD production we made includes the old film and interviews with Peter and modern Symondsbury mummers, plus elements of modern rehearsal, including one scene Peter did not film because it was thought a bit rude at the time!
‘Peter’s father was Douglas Kennedy who directed the English Folk Dance and Song Society’s affairs for a long time, in succession to Cecil Sharp. His aunt, Maud Karpeles, was also prominent in folk song collecting and worked with Sharp.
‘Peter referred to folk song collecting and performance as “the family industry”. He was one of the first people to get traditional singers on the BBC with his travelling show “As I Roved Out”. He accumulated an enormous archive of recordings in addition to making a few films.’
A short clip from Kennedy’s film, Walk In St George, is on Windrose’s Close Encounters website and also on YouTube (https://youtu.be/z9FCJvOR3l4)
The archive film footage is pure Thomas Hardy, and you can picture the people and performance as a perhaps a scene from one of his novels written more than half a century before.
The film is included in a Windrose DVD, Walk In Room, Walk In, along with interviews with Kennedy about the play, the making of the film and his thoughts about the significance of mumming.
Also featured are two of the recent mummers, Ken Bodycombe and David Warren, who tell how they became involved with the play and why it is still performed every year, and Bill Bartlett who played General Valentine in the 1953 film.
An even older Symondsbury can be seen on YouTube here: (https://youtu.be/WXKacgnuxOM). This 1930s silent film of Symondsbury At Work and Play from the Barge Collection features many of the villagers in their various roles. It’s rather poignant watching all these people going about their daily lives, making nets, building a hayrick ad working as wheelwrights, carpenters and gardeners.
The five-minute video on YouTube ends with a shooting party on Sir Philip Colfox’s estate where the young beaters enjoy a drink and lunch, all of them beaming broadly after a good day out.
Some of Windrose’s archive films have been put to music. Take, for example, Dope Under Thorncombe, a lively tale of derring do made by hairdresser Frank Trevett of Bridport in the 1930s and starring his family and friends. The 40-minute film takes place in and around West Bay and was set to a new musical score by Rachel Leach in 2009. You can see it on YouTube here (https://youtu.be/KRTTPTNs8gw).
Windrose Rural Media Trust director Trevor Bailey said: ‘It was shot on 9.5mm film, the amateur’s favourite film choice in the 1930s. It was an amazing project for local people to take on and has been crying out to be given its own special music and to be seen more widely.’ The film, accompanied by a live performance of the new score, was shown at Bridport Arts Centre and Burton Bradstock Village Hall.
On the Close Encounters website there are also photographs and audio interviews with people who have special links to West Bay today. These include Arthur Watson, who ran the Riverside Restaurant, who talks about the build-up to the D-Day landings when American troops were stationed at West Bay, and Margaret Grundell, who served ice creams on the seafront for more than four decades. Others include Jo Hawker, whose family have been involved in fishing for generations, harbourmaster James Radcliffe and Bridport electrician and keen fisherman Rob Stephenson.
To find out more about Windrose’s work, visit the Close Encounters media trail website http://closeencounters-mediatrail.org.uk/ and the YouTube channel https://www.youtube.com/user/windroseRMT

UpFront 10/20

By
Marshwood
-

In his new book, English Pastoral, Lake District farmer James Rebanks echoes the thoughts of many people when he says he is tired of the ‘absolutes and extremes, and the angriness of this age’. He says ‘we need more kindness, compromise and balance.’ Although he is talking about farming, his words could apply to many arguments in an easily divided world. His farming life was first inspired by his grandfather who made his living on an old fashioned mixed farm. Later, James’s father was influenced by the need for modernisation, although he always instinctively distrusted the direction his industry was taking. A visit to America to see vast tracts of land decimated by overuse of chemicals and ‘mechanical weapons’ confirmed what James had feared for many years; that the direction taken by conglomerates to increase food yield in farming had environmental consequences way beyond anything we could have imagined. Pushed to supply supermarkets with cheap food, many small farmers had become ‘slaves to the gospels of industrial efficiency and consumerism’. The difficulty faced by family businesses that have had to change centuries-old practises, in order to compete with vast mechanised output, is a tragedy. Not just because of the damage to ecosystems, soil and landscape, but also because of the loss of the livelihoods of thousands of families who have looked after the land around them—in most cases, with a natural instinctive care for their environment. Much of James’ concerns are not news to environmentalists, ecologists, conservationists and those who care about a sustainable future. But that in itself brings its own challenges. As in so many other aspects of society, individual voices or groups following one particular view—regardless of how caring that view might be—at some point become tribal, and even so entrenched in their focus that clarity of purpose is forgotten. James highlights our need to work together on how we farm. Organic food, rewilding, locally produced, even larger-scale production all have a role to play in the mixed farming of the future, but there is no simple fix. The logical route is to find a balance between the need to produce more food than ever, and the need to do so in a sustainable fashion. As James puts it, we need to bring ‘clashing ideologies about farming together, to make it as sustainable and as biodiverse as it can be.’

Peter Vernon

By
Marshwood
-

‘I was born in Cheshire in 1955 and we moved to Corscombe in Dorset in 1960. I remember the really hard winter of 1962-1963 starting on boxing day right through to February. We were totally snowed in, we cut doorways through drifts and saw cars abandoned on the roads. People were ice skating on Sutton Bingham reservoir near Yeovil. My father worked in Yeovil as a Social Security Officer, mother was at home with me and my brother Paul who was 5 years older than me.
Then we moved to West Grange in West Hill, a fantastic old three-storey house with a cellar and an old staircase with a handrail I used to slide down. The cellar was always full of Dad’s homemade wine made from all sorts of free ingredients. We grew mushrooms down there too, using a bunk bed, planked out and filled with compost and sold them locally. My upbringing was fantastically unconventional. Although my father worked in an office, he was a country man at heart who loved to live off the land. A local character, Mr Brooks-King recognised my love of nature and took me and my mate, Terry Salter out birdwatching. He had a microphone in his hat and a portable tape recorder. We had to write down all the species of birds we saw. He could call a cuckoo over by imitating a female cuckoo noise, which is a very odd guttural burbling noise. Most of the time I hated school, I would much rather have been outside in the real world, wandering around the fields and woods. I got into growing vegetables from about eight years old; potatoes, strawberries and whatever else I could grow. Dad got some goats (Nancy and Susan) and chickens. I’d milk the goats and collect the eggs; I’d cut down branches to keep the goats busy eating whilst milking. Some of Dad’s customers had land and he kept geese or pigs or a couple of heifers there, which we would visit on Sundays. Mum and Dad split up when I was 17 and I went to live with my brother in Sidmouth.
My father had a heart attack when he was 58 and as a result, took early retirement and decided to buy a place with land. The only place he could find that he could afford was on Bodmin Moor. He started a piggery unit and got a contract for his baconers; he had a couple of cows and a few Dexter heifers. He didn’t live his dream for long, he died from another heart attack about 18 months later, in 1974, chasing pigs across the yard. I was only 19 and had to go down and look after the stock before it was sold at auction, I remember having to castrate the piglets with a razor blade! I was told his herd of pigs were some of the best they’d ever seen.
When I left school, I was into rough shooting; pigeons, rabbits etc and really wanted to be a gunsmith but the nearest place to get an apprenticeship was Bath and I wasn’t ready to leave home at that time.
During my time at Sidmouth Secondary I’d had the most inspirational metalwork teacher called Bernard Hughes, he was brilliant and basically treated me like a son. I managed to bunk off a lot of other lessons and would end up in the metalwork shop. He got me my first job at Brufords, a jeweller in Exeter where I started work as a silversmith. The workshop was an amazing four storey house behind the prison. They had a clockmaker; watchmaker, silversmith and a pearl stringer. Most of the work I did was repairing silver and what I really wanted was an apprenticeship making pieces. So, Mr Hughes managed to secure me a four-year art metal apprenticeship at Whipples in Exeter. I loved it but the money wasn’t great so when I’d completed the apprenticeship, I moved onto Devon instruments in Topsham where they made reproduction carriage clocks. They doubled my money and with that and taking in a lodger, meant I was able to buy my first house in Exeter for £13,500. But after four years I was made redundant when Devon Instruments went belly up. I then got a job with Bulmers cider as a Service Technician fitting cider pumps in pubs, hotels and nightclubs all over the South West.
I got married in 1981, to Linda, we had a son, Ashley, but sadly we divorced when he was two. After caring for Ashley every evening when Linda worked, I abruptly lost him from my life when I moved out. It was one of the worst times. I went to court to sort out access but the ruling, because of his age, was that I could only see him every two weeks on a Sunday morning for a few hours. I complied at the start but it was so painful for me and so upsetting and disruptive for a small child to cope with that I decided to stop with the hope that things would change when he was older. I just wanted the best for him. I have had to live with my choices that I thought were right at the time but really regret that we are still estranged. I hope that one day he will understand and that we can get to know each other.
I moved back to Sidmouth and met Diana; we were in similar situations. It developed into something wonderful and we married in 1989. We moved to Newton Poppleford where we had an allotment and I also got into alpine plants. We grew buckets of strawberries and flowers for drying; everyone ended up with dried flowers for Christmas. After eight years we moved to where we are now in Colyford, we have a bigger garden including a rockery and beds for the alpine plants. I never do anything by halves and joined every single plant society that I could – about 20! They do seed exchanges so I had the opportunity of getting some very rare seeds which enabled me to grow things I couldn’t have otherwise grown. I got into the species Erodium, which are related to the hardy Geranium. We used to go up every year to visit Diana’s mum in Yorkshire, and whilst they would go off to see the sites, I would search out interesting nurseries. One had the national collection of Erodiums; and at another we’d exchange plants. I let them have one of my new Erodium seedlings and as a reminder of where it came from, they added my name to the label. It was only recently, when I happened to google my name for something else, I found Erodium Peter Vernon. Amazingly it is RHS listed without any effort from me. A lady from America also showed up online as having it and I contacted her to ask how she managed to smuggle my plant back to America and she told me she put them in her knickers!
After 22 years working for Bulmers they got bought out and I was eventually made redundant. The redundancy and a supportive wife enabled me to think about what I was going to do next and I decided I didn’t want to work for anybody again. I set up on my own in 2004 as a full-time sculptor; an artist in wood where I developed my own way of doing things.
I got into the Blackdown Hills Business Association; they were brilliant. They had a pitch on Taunton High Street and that was one of my first experiences of selling direct to the public. I did a bit of woodturning to start with and made some jewellery boxes, then I started a bit of sculpting and had some great feedback. It was getting into sculpting and developing my own style that got me noticed. Around this time, I met James Luard, a retired captain in the Navy, he had a gallery on his farm in Stawley near Wellington. He got a little group of us together – potters, artists, painters, blacksmiths, people working with fabrics – the whole gambit. That’s where I met Frank Martin the potter, he was encouraging and said he like my work. He was on the board of the Somerset Guild of Craftsmen and I was invited to join and sell through their gallery and at various exhibitions. One day I got a phone call from the Guild’s manager saying someone had been in and bought one of my Manta Ray sculptures and was donating it to the Nature in Art Gallery and Museum in Twigworth, Gloucestershire. I contacted the curator who said I could come up and see my piece there. It was amazing, they’ve got pieces of Picasso and other top named artists, and there’s my sculpture in there. I’ve never done commission work as such; I make something and I put it in the gallery and if it sells that’s great. I concentrate mainly on nature with flowing forms. I’m virtually retired now, I do the odd bit and put a few pieces in galleries but not looking to sell myself anymore.
I have a number of hobbies and once I get into them, they take over my l life. I did moth traps every night of the year for two years, I’d record and photograph every one! I caught a moth that had never been found in Devon before. I met a lot of people through that. I wrote an article Magnificent Moths on moths and caterpillars for the East Devon Coast and Country Magazine.
I’d done some metal detecting back in the 80s when I got divorced as I’d needed a hobby to distract me. Then in about 2014 I met a local chap, Gordon, coming out of a field with a metal detector, got chatting and decided I wanted to get back into it again. The second time out I found a Bronze Age axe and since then I’ve found some wonderful things. I joined the EDMDC (East Devon Metal Detecting Club), they have a dig every fortnight. There are some great sites around here. Gordon and I discovered a Medieval fair site and have found many Medieval hammered silver coins on the site. I’ve worked my way up in EDMDC and made some great friends. I’m now a site officer, finding new sites, as well as photographer and also on the show committee. We usually have a presence at about three or four local agricultural shows a year, to let people know what we do and what we find and to hopefully encourage landowners to allow us to detect on their land. We usually have a table at our digs so the landowner can see what we’ve found. The club also has an annual charity dig.
It’s a peaceful spot where we live and enjoy our many different and varied hobbies; a lovely life.’

1...456...126Page 5 of 126

Sibyl King

Marshwood -
'I have loved Dorset from the first moment that I arrived. I was 25 and had never been abroad before. Each new sight and...

The Lit Fix

Impressions of a Landscape

This Good Earth – and our part in its future

Stonehenge keeps Growing

© Marshwood Vale Ltd