Autumn Walking Weekend, 10 October, 1998, Walk to Woodbury Hill and Greenhill Fair
The overnight rain gave a dreary start to Saturday morning, but served only to dampen our soles not our spirits as we assembled at Bere Regis church.
John Pentney started by reading from the final pages of Tess of the d'Urbervilles outside the Turberville aisle. We were reminded of the plight of Tess and her family in search of lodgings within the parish of Kingsbere. John noted the variety of different stones used to construct the wall of the church bearing the family stained glass window. He then led twenty-five ready walkers into the church to continue his reading and view the Turberville tombs and window. The oldest tomb, probably medieval, no longer contains a recumbent stone Turberville, as Tess pondered the future of the Durbeyfields the stone figure rose from its cold, deadly slumber into the form of Alex d'Urberville, dampening Tess's spirits to a suicidal wish to be inside the family crypt. Alec finally persuaded Tess to go away to Sandbourne with him, in exchange for a dwelling for her mother and siblings.
After leaving the church with its tiled floor, eleventh century arched ceiling beams and confirmation from our leader that the Turberville family survives today in Creech St Michael, Somerset, we viewed the site of the Turberville manor and Woodbury Hill, our destination, a little beyond to the North East of Bere Regis.
Once out of the village, via a path which lay hidden from the road, we climbed through an open field from the top of which was a clear view of Bere Regis lit by a watery sun. Our next climb was through a wooded hillside.To gain access to the upper level of the hill fort it was necessary to lift a gate off its hinges. Fortunately, we had no need to return through the same gate. The views from the top were splendid, the cloud having given way to a sunnier aspect.
On reaching the top of Woodbury Hill Fort, occupied by the Romans from 600 BC to 400 AD, we gathered while John gave a brief history of the hill and its uses. Unlike its sister hill fort, Maiden Castle, little is known about Woodbury since it has been excavated. Until 1951 an annual fair was held here from 18th to 22nd September. Each of the five days had its own significance and attracted different clientele, the main feature being entertainment. Day four was livestock day and the fifth and last "pack and penny day" when all the goods were required to be sold cheaply rather than carried back down the hill.
When we had entered the top field two quadrupeds from the resident dairy herd joined us and apparently had been quietly interested in John's presentation until he turned to Hardy's description of Greenhill Fair in Far from the Madding Crowd and the various flocks of sheep which were shepherded up from the hill. Some of these sheep belonged to Bathsheba Everdene and some to her devoted admirer farmer Boldwood. By the time John was relating the activities of Dick Turpin (alias Sergeant Troy) on Black Bess, our two uninvited guests had left us as quietly as they had joined!
We continued on round the edge of Woodbury Hill to begin our descent to Bere Regis via different paths to those used for the ascent. We paused on the slopes of the western ramparts away from the cool autumn breeze which had been noticeable on the exposed, level hill-top. We were standing by the disused sheep pens of Hardy's Greenhill Fair where Exmoors, South Downs and the old Wessex horned breeds had exchanged hands decades before.
In a short time we reached the cottages on the outskirts of the village and arrived back at the church with plenty of time for lunch and the promise of a dry and sunny afternoon.
Morning Walk through the Dorset Gap, 11 October 1998
A bleak forecast had obviously discouraged some people, but a dozen walkers and baby Oliver Tapper in a rucksack (not forgetting the dog, Tess) squelched and slithered up the track from Folly Farm.
Richard Camp had prepared Shortening Days, a lovely collection of autumn poems from the later Hardy, which were read and discussed at strategic intervals during the walk. Wendy Pugh read The Trampwoman's Tragedy in the Dorset Gap (in place of Wynyard's Gap) where we sheltered for lunch. Hugh Thomas gave us a fine rendering of Wessex Heights as we reached the Dorset Ridgeway.
It was a most varied walk; even the weather turned around. There were great views, across the Vale of Blackmoor to Shaston, dramatic skies, a windy belvedere above the Dorset Gap, with many flowers still evident, a shower of goldcrests, looking like leaves. In Higher Melcombe we passed the old Manor House with its unusual private chapel, built by Sir Thomas Freke before 1633 (like his other Gothic survival church at Iwerne Minster which some of us had visited at the start of the Hambledon Hill walk in May). Next, we had an unexpected encounter with a Highland cow and woolly calf — happily on the other side of an electric fence.
Our last poem, By Henstridge Cross at the Year's End was also read in the wrong place, but then Hardy originally set it at Mellstock Cross. The end of this poem was especially apt for the end of the autumn walk and in view of the extreme youth of our youngest member:
"Yea: we want new feet now"
Answer the stones. "Want chit-chat, laughter:
Plenty of such to go hereafter
By our tracks, we trow!
We are for new feet now."
Desmond Hawkins: Ninetieth Birthday Celebration,
9 October 1998
The Society hosted a lunch in honour of Desmond Hawkins at the Castleman Hotel, Chettle. Proposing the toast, Michael Millgate spoke of Desmond's long life as a man of letters - and a man of London who could recall hearing Marie Lloyd and seeing Little Titch in the music Halls! Poet, novelist, autobiographer and contributor to magazines like the Criterion, he was a friend of Freida Lawrence, T. S. Eliot and George Orwell. A producer for the BBC's Far Eastern service during the war, Desmond became Head of Programmes for BBC West (later Regional Controller) and founded the famous Natural History Unit in Bristol in 1957. He wrote many radio adaptations of Hardy novels, leading to his three books on him, with a special interest in the landscape of Wessex, as one might expect from someone who so loves the country of Cranborne Chase, Sedgemoor and the New Forest. He also wrote the Hardy Society pamphlet on the Tess opera as well as his book, Concerning Agnes, about Hardy's friend Lady Grove. Later, he edited the Grove diaries, covering generations of the family, with its links to Shelley. Among the well-deserved accolades Desmond had received could be counted the RSPB's Silver Medal and an honorary degree from Bristol University.
Replying to his long-time friend's "generous words", Desmond Hawkins confessed to not having met Hardy, but spoke of the exciting work for the post-war BBC in scripting serial adaptations like The Mayor of Casterbridge for an audience of up to eight million listeners, helping to create a mass audience for the writer and a growing appreciation of his work. He recalled the late Roger Thomas and the 1968 inaugural Hardy Festival in Dorchester and getting the BBC to support it, sponsoring a special Drama Competition. This led to memories of the resultant "golden years" of the newly-formed Society's Weymouth conferences in the 70s and the friendships made, among many others, with Hal Orel, James Gibson and Frank Pinion. He always liked Hardy's own text to predominate when lecturing on the author and with Douglas Leach and Pauline Spender, he put on Hardy readings in countless Art Centres in Southern England. He felt like a Hardy missionary! He also recollected lecturing trips to Japan, India, the United States and Canada and the wonderful experience of his links with the Hardy Society, memories revived by the day's occasion.
Desmond's extraordinary energy is indicated by the appearance this year of two new books from his hand. Pilfold, his biography of Captain John Pilfold, came out on 21 October, Trafalgar day (details from J. Knight, Horsham Museum, 9 The Causeway, Horsham, West Sussex RH10 1HE).
"A very hearty fellow" was Shelley's description of his uncle, Captain John Pilfold, RN; "I value, love and respect him". When the poet became estranged from his father, Uncle John benevolently paid his allowance from his own pocket. Later, he was one of Nelson's captains at Trafalgar, in command of HMS Ajax, and was decorated by the King for his service. He married and retired to Lindfield to a handsome house he called "Nelson Hall". After financial problems, caused by his easy-going generosity, he returned to the navy, running a shore base in Plymouth. He died in 1834. His papers are preserved in the Pilford archive in Horsham Museum.
In addition to Pilfold, Desmond's Cranborne Chase has appeared, a shorter version of an earlier monograph, part of the Dovecote Press's "Discover Dorset" series (Dovecote Press, Stanbridge, Wimbourne, Dorset BH21 4JD). It is a fascinating history of the landscape, history and inhabitants of the Chase,which Hardy was familiar with.
Among the photographs in this well-illustrated paperback is one of Fontmell Down. The down belongs to the National Trust and is dedicated to the memory of Hardy. This seems to have been forgotten, and Desmond thinks that a suitable plaque ought to be erected beside the road to remind passers-by of the Hardy association, something the Society might well support.
Northern Branch Christmas Meeting, 27 November, 1998
The Northern Branch Christmas meeting and party took place in the John Vallins Centre, Chetham's School of Music, Manchester, which famous music school comprises some of the rare remaining medieval buildings in the city. The readers of a selection of Hardy's poetry and prose, with a Christmas theme, were Genevieve Allenbury, Jean Brooks, Candice Fisher and Richard Hansell. A small choir of Chetham's School pupils took part, while a more informal band, accordian and fiddle and the like, was made up by school musicians. They played dances and songs, based on the Hardy family music book.
Saturday, 12 December, 1998
The shades of night were falling fast after a day of wind and rain and the road to Mellstock was hazardous with puddles, collapsed banks and the ever-gusting wind. However, undeterred, the choir and instrumentalists and enthusiastic followers assembled in Thorncombe Wood car park. The last headlights were switched off and the darkness under the trees was illuminated only by the lanterns and torches casting intermittent glowing lights on the costumed figures of the players and singers, poised for a journey along "the direct pathway of Time". We were to hear the Christmas story repeated in the old carols as it had been by generations of the Stinsford choir, which had included Hardy's father and grandfather and by the Mellstock quire in Under the Greenwood Tree on its Christmas Eve journey round the parish, history and fiction mingling in our re-enactment.
There was rain in the air and a wet weather plan was adopted for the evening. The paths through the woods being particularly slippery, after the first reading from Under the Greenwood Tree and two carols on the car park, we walked along the lane to Hardy's cottage. As we turned into the orchard the warm spicy aroma of mulled cider greeted us, as did the stunning sight of the cottage lit by floodlights and we were grateful indeed to Terry and Joy Linee and their sons Robert and Tim, for their warm welcome.
Furse Swann, Jim Gibson and Mike Bailey read Hardy's descriptions of the "long low cottage with a hipped roof of thatch", Reuben Dewy's presentation of a cask of "a drop o' the right sort", the arrival of the singing boys and Old William Dewy's exhortations to them to "keep from making a great scuffle on the ground when we go in at people's gates; but go quietly, so as to strike up all of a sudden, like spirits". Hearing "Night in the Old Home" we recalled Hardy's sense of the spirits of his forebears in the cottage, whose advice is to "spread the table here freely like us, / And, satisfied, placid, unfretting, watch Time away beamingly!" Warmed by the mulled cider, our ears ringing with the words and tunes of "While Shepherds Watched", "Rejoice ye Tenants of the Earth" and "Behold the morning star arise", we made our way down the lane, perhaps like the Mellstock villagers our "flat outlines . . . suggested some processional design on Greek or Etruscan pottery".
The bells of St Michael's rang and lanterns lit our way to the church at Stinsford where the major part of the programme took place, Hardy's words reminding us of "an ancient and time-worn hymn, embodying a quaint Christianity in words orally transmitted from father to son through several generations down to the present characters, who sang them out right earnestly: `Remember Adam's fall . . . ' ". This we would have sung to an imaginary Fancy Day at the Schoolhouse, where the Quire were finally rewarded with a sight "as near a thing to a spiritual vision . . . " as Fancy appeared at an upstairs window in the candle's light. Their mood of awe and admiration was then to be rudely shattered by Farmer Shiner's angry outburst.
Fact and fiction mixed comfortably in our musical timewalk as we then heard "To my Father's Violin" and "The Choirmaster's Burial" which Hardy wrote in tribute to his grandfather who died in January 1837. The spirits of the Mellstock quire were again evoked in "The Dead Quire" and "The Paphian Ball" and their music filled Stinsford church as the carols were sung "fortissimy!".
The final part of the evening was spent at Kingston Maurward House, where hot drinks and large mince pies were consumed. We were entertained by a lively performance of a Mummer's Play, before continuing to sing into the night with seemingly ever-increasing vigour in the square high hall with its roaring log fire and wonderful acoustics.
It had been a memorable evening, made possible by the generosity of many people. Mike Bailey and The Madding Crowd had given us the afternoon as well as the evening, leading us in a choir practice in Stinsford church. Bill Jesty had overseen the opening and heating of the church and had led a final prayer on the Vicar's behalf. The young people at Kingston Maurward College had prepared a magnificent log fire, drinks and as many mince pies as could be wished for. Our thanks to these and the Linee family and to Furse for leading us so enthusiastically and for planning the events.
HELEN GIBSON
A number of members have asked whether a Society brooch or tie-pin is available. We contacted a local jeweller who has agreed, in principle, to create brooches, tie-pins, lapel pins and stock-pins in silver for about £20 each. This price is dependent on at least twenty items being ordered. The brooches would be the same size as the logo on our stationery (approximately 2.6 cm across). The jewellery would show the central TH of the logo which would be about 1 cm across.
The jeweller, Mr Bagley, has a backlog of work, so those wishing to place orders for next Christmas are requested to write to Olive Blackburn at the Hardy Society office (PO 1438, Dorchester DT1 1YH) as soon as possible.
OLIVE BLACKBURN
While much of the country was under flood-water at the end of October, the team of local builders was braving gales and rain to complete the re-slating of the church roof at St Juliot. Actually the weather here in Cornwall was not as dreadful as further north.
The generosity of many people, both local and holiday visitors, has raised over £8,000 and to this has been added £1,670 raised by the launch of Friends of St Juliot, much of it thanks to Hardy Society members. The membership stands at forty-nine and we look forward anxiously to reaching our half-century. Two Cornish church charities have kindly given us grants worth £3,250 to complete our appeal. So the job has been completed and we are left with over £1,000 in the bank toward the next phase of restoration.
The work done recently amounted to taking off all the slates, carefully saving all sound ones. Similar second-hand Delabole slates were bought to replace the damaged ones. All the battens were replaced with new ones and all exposed roof timber was treated with a bat-friendly preservative. Fortunately the pine used in Hardy's restoration was excellent and had resisted rot and worm attacks. The slates were each fixed by two copper nails, which hopefully will outlast the old iron ones in this salt-laden atmosphere. Lead in the gulley was also replaced.
The workmen were hopeful of finding a relic of Hardy, such as his notebook, but all they found was a broken carpenter's rule. We did have two pieces of bad luck. One was that eight hundred slates were stolen one night from the scaffolding at roof level, so they had to be replaced. The other was that while sitting on a tomb to eat his sandwiches the builder noticed the old ash tree by the gate was twisting in the gale, opening a crack right up one side. On investigation we were horrified to find it completely hollow and in danger of falling across the road, so it had to be removed very expensively in sections from the top.
Now we must turn our attention to some of the windows, some rotten plaster, the chancel tiled floor, the leaking tower, shaky floorboards and crumbling quoin stones, if we are to return it to the condition in which Hardy left the church.
COLIN WADEY
Lack of space means that items on Hardy's speech on accepting the Freedom of Dorchester (sent in by three members); on an unpublished letter by him about dialect; and on a Dorset dialect poem from 1802, have had to be held over until the May issue.
SC