Ludlow Ledger (Issue #4) by Ludlow Ledger

ISSUE 4 – NOVEMBER/DECEMBER 2014 – FREE

Ludlow YFC turns 70 Controversial chef of Broad Street Exploring the largest organ in the county Letters from the front Town’s tight wearers of 1968 Kitchen table industries Downing pints and dominoes Ludlow legend William Parks

“I love it when I have to open something like a business account, and it says ‘when was your organisation founded?’ And you put 1199” You’ve probably seen him darting about the place, from church office to the church itself, with no idea what this man really does. Well, his name is Shaun Ward, St Laurence’s Director of Music, who (under the relatively calmer wing of the Venerable Colin Williams, the Rector) stands as a wild and energetic man dressed in a Donegal tweed three-piece. Full in beard, and unlike anyone else in town, he plays the mighty Snetzler organ of Ludlow like Animal of The Muppets plays the drums. He’s equally energetic when it comes to showcasing the past wonders and even greater possibilities for Ludlow’s towering church too. Whether voicing vision with a passion to the planning authorities or to the endless visitors that trundle through the church doors each year, Shaun continually switches between two critical hats. In one bonnet he spends a couple of days overseeing

the provision of music – from weekly services to the recruitment and training of choristers. The rest of his week is taken up with building affairs: planning for building conservation, attracting funding, and overseeing the work. But, by the sound of things, the hardest aspect of his job is convincing more local people to experience and use the building. “I think there is a strange thing here in Ludlow, where a portion of the community just sees St Laurence’s as a religious building and, therefore, if they are not religious they won’t engage. And that’s a real shame, because that’s not quite the point of the Church of England. The Church of England is like your village pub or your village post office – it is there to be used. Anyone has the right to use it. Everybody has a right to be baptised, to be married, to have their funeral taken there. And we’ve kind of lost that, particularly

in Ludlow, and I don’t know why that is.” Get beyond this dated notion that the church is just about God and Christianity, and you discover that it’s just as much about being a gallery space, a logical place for groups to gather on a regular basis, a place to host a fashion show ... and a quiet spot to work on your laptop – it’s equipped with free wi-fi, after all. It sounds more like a community space and you soon realise that is exactly what St Laurence’s is: a place to sit, grab a coffee, read the paper – a place to get away from the elements. There are even toilets. What else do you need? “It’s no good keeping the building as it was in, say 1860, where people came on a Sunday, sat up straight and faced the front in ordered pews. That was basically about controlling the mob. And that was fine. But that doesn’t work now. It’s all about finding a different flow.”

– www.ludlowledger.co.uk –

Shaun’s first real experience of church was aged six, when his mum took him to a carol service. “I remember it vividly: I saw the choir and went immediately up to the priest after the service and said: ‘I want to join the choir.’ And I never looked back.” Shaun sang in the choir, taking part in the five-aday wedding services of that time, and then went on to play the organ, which he taught himself at first – sneaking on to the organ (at 9 years old) when the organist popped out for half-an-hour between services. “One day he caught me, and said: ‘Right, you need lessons. ’ So I had a year with him and then he said: ‘you’re too good, you need a better teacher.’ That’s when I went to Bristol cathedral for lessons, and then I went on to university and studied the whole thing for five years.”

Continued on page 20 >

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Contents 8 11

PUB CHAT

“The great thing about having a big spanner is that you are obviously on your way to or from something important”

5 William Parks: printer and publisher of Ludlow’s first newspaper PAST, PRESENT, FUTURE 6-7 Planted tribute to WW1 veteran, and Chang Thai gets Thai Monk’s blessing LETTERS 8 Printed praise from near and far, and a new cartoon strip: Off The Ledge OBSERVATIONS 9 Does Westminster have the interests of Ludlow close enough to its heart? SIGHTS AND SOUNDS 10 How often do you actually notice the hand-painted lettering around Ludlow? meet and greet 11 Woofferton-based David Ward and his carbon-neutral empire of wood LETTERS FROM THE FRONT 12-14 Words of war sent home to Ludlow FARMING 15 Ludlow’s Young Farmers’ Club celebrates 70 years with a natter to Ledger Liz PROFILE 16-18 Kitchen table industries: Local jam sensations – Camilla Lywood and Kati Burns LUDLOW FESTIVAL 1968 19 When the director was Joan Knight and most of the cast came from Ludlow school COVER STORY... continued 20 Shaun Ward: the man in tweed behind Ludlow’s largest and loudest machine OBITUARY 21 Aubrey Weller FINDING LUDLOW 22 Broad Street chef, Martyn Emsen, talks tables and chairs, and fish and chips FACTS AND FIGURES 23 This issue we turn the spotlight on ourselves: 980kg of paper is just one the facts SPORT 24 LOCAL ICON

‘Least Likely Sport’s Correspondent of the Century’ award winner, Mia Davis, soon learns there’s more to the game of dominoes than simply trying to match two ladybirds and a zebra with her son some 15 years ago

Editor’s notes, hello again I find it incredible how quickly things can change – especially as it seems such a short time since issue 1 arrived upon a pallet from Peterborough, with a cover story looking back at my relationship with Ludlow, and retired racing-greyhound, Snow Adam, on the back page. Yet in just four issues Ludlow Ledger has grown by 10,562 words, with writers Mia Davis and Liz Hyder now considered permanent fixtures. And progress continues. Not only has Ludlow Ledger now bagged itself a cartoonist (see page 8) in the shape of The Times’ and FT’s Roger Penwill, but Ludlow Ledger is now also proudly printed by The Guardian – which entirely explains the format switch from Tabloid to Berliner (more of that in this issue’s Facts & Figures feature, found on page 23). Some changes are not so impressive. Most significantly, Ludlow has very recently lost a wonderful, colourful character, in the shape of Aubrey Weller; he featured in the previous issue, talking passionately of his love for ale, teaching Richard Gere to

play darts and being man-handled in a Gents over in Australia. My small tribute within this very issue seems a little shy on column inches – especially considering what an impact Aubrey has had on the town – so I imagine a much grander affair will grace these pages in due time... but for now a lone column on page 19 says what needs to be said. Moving into 2015, I would like to imagine Ludlow Ledger achieving a number of key goals; above all – affording a far higher print run and the inclusion of a supplement or two. And the advances so far are thanks to you, the readers, both resident and tourist in equal measure, not only for picking up your copy and digesting the contents, but also for taking the time to write letters, to send emails and to post online your comments and experiences of this paper. It is this level of feedback that fills those who shape this paper with enthusiasm, drive and eagerness to continuously improve the words, pictures and design. It is also this relationship with the reader that convinces me that

Ludlow Ledger will be around for some considerable time – hopefully increasing in the number of pages, columns, features and the frequency in which it is published. But none of this can honestly happen without the support of local independent advertising (on which this paper wholly relies). If you’d like to help keep Ludlow Ledger amongst us, please get in touch (my mobile number/email features below) – per-issue adverts start from just £58.00 and reach an eager audience of 10,000, from Ludlow and beyond. And if you’re wondering about this issue’s editorial snap: a part of my job description is ‘stand-in man’ (whatever the circumstances) for photographer Richard, whilst our ‘royal’ subject (Kati Burns on p18 in this instance) waits in the warmth as we rig up the lighting.

Cheers, Jon Saxon editor@ludlowledger.co.uk 07795 244060

Front cover & Editor’s notes image} Richard Stanton | Print} Guardian Print Centre, Manchester | Letterpress printed masthead} Dulcie Fulton: mostlyflat.co.uk

Book finds text} Jon Saxon

Chatting hitchhiking at Ludlow’s Charlton Arms

To Jordan and back with Andy interviewed by} Jon Saxon | image} Richard Stanton – pub CHAT – ONE day I just decided that I was going to leave my girlfriend, let go of my flat, let go of my job, draw out £147 (which was all the money I had) and hitchhike off to, for some reason, Jordan – despite the fact there was a war on at the time. I have no idea what I thought I was doing – still, to this day, I have zero idea, except I knew that there was something out there, and it wasn’t going to come and find me behind a desk in an insurance company. So I hitchhiked off. I slept overnight in Munich in a multistorey car park because they’re easy to get into and they’ve got cover (if you can find a car that is by a wall you can sleep between the car and the wall and just hope they don’t back over you). In the morning I came down and was washing my face in a medieval animal trough with gargoyles on it – and there was this woman across the road, three storeys up, shouting at me in German.

German is a language I’ve never learnt, so I thought “yeah yeah, get lost”. Anyway, after a bit, she let down a small bucket on a piece of string. I went over the street to see what was in it, and there was a bar of soap and ten pounds-worth of folding money. There’s a thing about hitchhiking – when you’re young and pretty (which I was) the world wants to do favours for you. That’s when I got into the adventure of walking across the Negev desert with my backpack; I had an umbrella with me (a gent’s British umbrella) and a small Union Jack, because when the British trucks came towards me – I would hold up the Union Jack and often they would stop. It’s an immediate reaction – I’m in the middle of a godforsaken country and there’s a Brit, let’s stop. I travelled with them for a couple of days – it was at the height of CB [citizens’ band radio] and they would be just chatting; they would pull up for the evening, get out the frying

THE

CHARLTON ARMS Ludlow

pans and the cooking equipment, make bacon and eggs, and drink beer. That’s when I decided, that’s the life for me. Having burnt my way through £147, rather rashly, in just under a year, I found myself sitting in an interview in Nice being asked if I could do bricolage. I needed a job so I said “yeah I’m doing bricolage all the time”. I could speak French fluently but I didn’t know what Bricolage was. We were in a 300-room 4-star hotel in Nice: “Bricolage, you do bricolage?” “Yeah I’ve done bricolage. I’m fine with bricolage.” “Okay, start on Monday.” So the first thing I did was go to a bookshop to locate a French-English dictionary and looked up what bricolage meant – basically it means handyman, but I’m not a very handy man. I did it for two years actually; I used to swan around all day in my uniform with a big spanner. The great thing about having a big spanner is that you are obviously on your way to or from something important, so you can actually do whatever you want all day with a big spanner. It was a pleasant job. By the end of it I’d scraped together the money to do my HGV and I arrived back in Britain on the very last day of 1980; it was the year the employment offices were on strike so you didn’t have to sign on, they just sent you the money. I just hitchhiked around the country visiting old friends I hadn’t seen in

years and (long story cut short) spent the money I’d raised to do my HGV, so I decided I was going to have to go to university, but I couldn’t do anything I’d done before because I’ve forgotten everything. A friend of mine, who had done a zoology degree, was working as a computer programmer so I hitchhiked to Bedford and we went to the pub for a chat. “What’s this computer programming lark like?” I asked; he drew a few diagrams and I said “fine, I’ll do that then.” That’s how my life descended into IT. I went to Leicester Poly (now De Montfort University) and, on my first day, there were all these students excitedly talking about “have they got a Tandy TRS-80” or “what’s your favourite Centronics lead,” and I thought, “well I’ve really made a mistake here because I don’t know what any of this is and it’s their life.” That was 1981, and I’ve wasted the rest of my life, up until now, in the service of IT. I know I will never be a HGV driver; I couldn’t pass the medical now, because, for some reason, they don’t want drivers who might drop dead at any moment – I call that health and safety gone mad. Someone, somewhere, doesn’t want me doing sixty in a 40-ton truck, near a school I think, failing to take the exit ramp properly... --------------------------------------------------Interview previously featured in edition 6 of Doghouse: www.doghousemagazine.co.uk

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FOR those of you who love adventure (and perhaps sailing too) yet are not familiar with the real-life story surrounding the ‘strange voyage of Donald Crowhurst’ I’d advise buying the 1970 book of the same title. I recently bought my copy (a first edition I’ll have you know) from Tower Street’s Renaissance Centre, for £2.50. It’s an immersive account – both inspiring and depressing – of one man’s ambition to sail alone around the world, whilst the world watched on. Aside from the £5,000 cash prize waved by the Sunday Times, Donald ultimately wished to prove that his self-levelling invention worked. Though it was onboard, it was incomplete at best loose wires dangling in thin air. The book’s epilogue reads: “Almost every headline evoked the Mary Celeste; not one spelt it correctly.”

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REDUCED from £9.95 to £4.95, I picked up a copy of Tony Hobbs’ The Pubs of Ludlow and Neighbouring Villages at Ludlow Train Station – which has a nice regular stock of interesting books on offer. Sadly many of the greats described in this book no longer exist, some losing their licences in the 18th and 19th century, others more recently between the 30s and the 80s: “Keysell’s became a favourite place for female imbibers as they could enter at the rear from a doorway in Pepper Lane without being seen. Now it houses a travel agent.” It surprises me that we no longer have anything along the lines of Keysell’s (next to The Bull Ring Tavern) or perhaps The Borough Arms on Raven Lane, or The Hand & Bell on Market Street; with the latter two’s single parlour bars – compared to the largely knocked through floor plans of mixed merit, music and service that this mostly medieval market town offers its residents and visitors.

William Parks: printer, publisher

Ludlow legend remembered text and images} Trevor Lloyd – LOCAL ICON – Two hundred and ninety five years separate the publication of the Ludlow Ledger and the appearance of the first newspaper to be printed and published in Ludlow. In 1719, fresh from his apprenticeship with Stephen Bryan (who then printed Worcester’s earliest known newspaper, the Worcester Post-Man – now known as the Worcester Journal) William Parks moved to Ludlow and leased premises which are now 4 Bull Ring. With the help of a small press, some type and an assistant, he established Ludlow’s first printing operation and published Ludlow’s first newspaper: The Ludlow Post-Man. This was a brave move for a newly-qualified printer – at that time Ludlow was not nearly as large or vibrant a town as Worcester, and Ludlow’s wool trade had collapsed many years previously; only leatherworking and glove-making underpinned the Ludlow economy. William Parks was born near Bitterley on 23rd April 1699, the son of a Yeoman, and was more than likely educated at Bitterley Grammar School. Consequently, he knew the area well and was counting on there being enough patronage left in Ludlow to support a weekly paper. In the early 18th century, following a change in the strict publishing laws that had strangled printing in Great Britain outside the capital, provincial newspapers had entered a boom period. At the time of publication, the Ludlow Post-Man was one of only 24 provincial newspapers, joining many much larger and more prosperous towns such as York and Chester, and even beating Birmingham, which did not have a local newspaper till 1724. Park’s equipment was basic. The wooden, English Common press had changed little since Gutenberg’s first presses started rolling in the 1480s and, although there had been some improvements to wooden presses by the dutchman Blaue, none reached the provinces until later in the century. As a result, printing a newspaper was a laborious task, made even more so by the fact that the size of the page was larger than the platen (essentially the equivalent of the glass top-section of a photocopier or scanner) used by the press to imprint the text on the page. The difference in sizes meant there had to be two impressions per page. (This remained the norm until Stanhope invented the iron press in 1800, and a raft of improved presses appeared on the market, the most well know being the Albion Press.)

It is not known how Parks funded this venture. The estimated cost of a press, type and other sundries sufficient for a small printer at the time would be several hundred pounds – a considerable sum. There is speculation either that his former master Stephen Bryan set him up, with an intention to expand his own Worcester-based business, or that one or two of the subscribers listed in Parks’ earlier publications funded the new venture. Either way, on Friday, 9th October 1719 the first edition of the Ludlow Post-Man was published. A modest six pages long, its contents range from a full-page introduction, in which Parks appears to apologise for “newswriters imposing falsehoods upon the world” and then stands up for them by stating: “The World is eager of being acquainted with the news as soon as possible; and therefore we [to please them] are apt to catch hold of reports that sometimes do not prove true.” The Post-Man also included news from Great Britain and other nations. Much of this was derived from the papers of larger cities. It also contained the first account of Ludlow society by covering a recent marriage in the town, “...which resulted in music and dancing which was prolonged (to the great uneasiness of Mr Bridegroom) till 3 a clock”. The description of the raucous wedding night, and the grand ball at the castle the previous night “which continued with myrth till very late”, would maybe have gone unnoticed except for Parks’ mention of the hostess Madam Crofts who apparently took exception and, in the second issue, Parks was forced to apologise. Whether or not this was the first incident in the struggle for Parks to keep a loyal readership (his failure to do so led to the eventual demise of the paper) is one for speculation. It is clear that he attracted few advertisers and, in later issues, he published spoof letters lampooning the local dialect and customs. Perhaps Parks had grander ambitions than a local paper – by 1721 the Ludlow Post-Man was closed and Parks had moved to Hereford where he published two books, before moving to Reading in 1723 to publish the Reading Mercury. In 1726 Parks emigrated to America, then considered to be the land of opportunity, and it certainly proved to be so for him; within a year William Parks had started a printing business in Annapolis, Maryland and become the postmaster. This was a shrewd move as one of the perks of the postmaster job was be able to send out all his printed material free of charge. Following

upon his printing of some government material, he was invited to be the first ‘public printer’ for the government of colonial Maryland and was subsequently commissioned to print all government documents. The newspaper bug must still have been in Parks however for he published the Maryland Gazette continuously from 1727 until 1734. At the same time he started a printing business in Williamsburg, Virginia, where he also became the first official public printer, postmaster and founder of Virginia’s first newspaper the Virginia Gazette. Parks was not always fortunate – in 1737 the Maryland authorities accused him of neglecting his work and terminated his contract. However, his work in Virginia received high praise and his business expanded. In 1742 he had a meeting with Benjamin Franklin, one of America’s founding fathers, during which they discussed paucity of paper; it resulted in Parks returning to Virginia and setting up a paper mill, the first such venture south of Pennsylvania. At its height, his business employed nine assistants, one of whom must have been a bookbinder as most books printed by Parks were also bound on the premises. Indeed he advertised, in his newspaper, bookbinding “done reasonably in the best manner” and one “who binds old books very well and cheap”. During this very productive time, Parks had managed to build up a large estate of property in both Maryland and Virginia and, in 1750, he decided to return to England to restock his Virginia business with equipment. This move proved fateful – he contracted pleurisy on the journey, died at sea and was buried in Gosport, presumably where the ship docked. His businesses continued after his death, run at first by his widow and then sold on, possibly to one of Parks’ assistants. Inevitably, William Parks will be remembered more in the States than here in Ludlow. He was the publisher of four ‘first’ newspapers, official printer to two colonial governments, postmaster, and paper-mill owner. And, according to his will, he was also the owner of two slaves – one he named Worcester and the other Ludlow. As a printer, my personal interest in William Parks began many years ago when one of my American clients, who specialises in early Americana, sent me a copy of one of William Parks’ imprints for restoration. Having discovered his Ludlow roots, I decided to reprint the Ludlow Post-Man on our 1865 Albion press. This proved to be more difficult than initially thought, as the paper used for newspapers in the 18th century was of very poor quality and I could not find a single complete copy that was either in good enough condition to produce a facsimile or was robust enough to allow out for photographing. As a result, I reset all the type and redraw the woodcuts. This copy is now available from The Bindery Shop, 5 Bull Ring – the room right next door to William Parks’ first print shop.

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4 1

WW1 tree, bike rally, and the ‘still’ fallen wall

Since issue 3 of Ludlow Ledger text} Jon Saxon – PAST, PRESENT, FUTURE – No ‘since issue 3 of Ludlow Ledger’ could honestly start without mentioning the soldiers from 1st Battalion, The Royal Welsh, who were recently granted the freedom of Ludlow. Marking the 325th anniversary of the raising of the Royal Welch Fusiliers at Ludlow Castle, roads were closed left right and centre, with streets on Saturday, 20th September packed with spectators. You may have already read that this very same infantry regiment of the British Army – part of the Prince of Wales’ Division – was formed in 1969 to become the 1st Battalion and 2nd Battalion The Royal Welsh respectively, by the amalgamation of the Welch Regiment (an archaic spelling of Welsh) and the South Wales Borderers. It’s the latter (adding to the tally of the 145 or so garrison) that defended a tiny outpost against 3,000-4,000 Zulus during the Boer War in South Africa; 22nd and 23rd January, 1879.

The incident is documented in the film Zulu (starring Michael Caine) which celebrates its 50th birthday this year and should be back on our screens soon (being such a Christmas favourite for one reason or another). Also worth noting is that Stanley Baker – who played the lead part of Lieutenant John Chard VC – also produced the film. The film suggests that the heroic 24th Regiment, and in particular ‘B’ Company, was mainly Welsh when, in fact, the Welsh constituted only 11 percent of the 24th Regiment at 1Rorke’s Drift. Although the regiment was then based in Brecon in South Wales and called the 24th Regiment of Foot (later to be the South Wales Borderers), it was formerly the Warwickshire Regiment, with many of its soldiers never having set foot in Brecon. Even the most optimistic search of the regimental roll can find only 19 men of ‘B’ Company, 2/24th, with any sort of Welsh connection. Of course, there were detachments of numerous other units (including Colonial

Volunteers) present at the battle, making the total garrison: 49 English, 18 Monmouthshire, 16 Irish, 1 Scottish and 21 of unknown nationality Nevertheless, being able to hang on to the coat tails of this historical bloodline, allows us to trace the footsteps of men and a goat, from Ludlow’s streets on 20th September 2014, all the way back to January 1879. Knowing this makes me wonder whether more could have been made of their historical granting of the freedom of our town – after all, they have completed two operational tours in Afghanistan, (in 2009 and in 2012). Maybe their experiences of building defences abroad could have helped with another defence rather nearer to home, that of our fallen medieval town wall, which collapsed in a 10-metre section, sliding 800-year-old defences from the direction of St Laurence’s Garden of Rest, on 18th February, 2013, towards the back end of The Compasses. In the process it wrote off the barmaid’s Ford Fiesta and several lean-to garages. It is now 18 months on with little to nothing done to repair what is one of the most complete town walls in England. It’s sad, really, that the town hasn’t just mucked in and got on with getting this prized perimeter back on its feet, rather than becoming what it has: a visual dumping ground for split sandbags, exposed human remains and ‘safety fencing’ which someone clearly got bored of seeing and kicked over for a laugh one night. In fact vandalism seems to be the only thing getting

done these days, as Shropshire County Council, Ludlow Town Council and the Parochial Church Council all deny responsibility. Commenting recently; Cllr Andy Boddington said: “My view remains that Shropshire Council should take the lead and repair the wall as it publicly promised to do. If it then needs to recover monies from other bodies, it can try do so. The alternative route is mediation but I fear attempts to reach a consensus are unlikely to succeed... We need to act. Further falls will show that this town and county cannot look after its heritage, because it’s only neglected walls that collapse.” Another wasted application of The Royal Welsh Regiment is not getting them involved in the feared future of Ludlow’s hospital. After all, the regiment fought hard to defend the Rorke’s Drift hospital (back in 1879), going to extraordinary efforts to hold the hospital entrance with carbines and fixed bayonets. Imagine Shropshire Hospital Health in their shirt and ties, clipboards and keys, there to shut up shop, and faced with similar carbines and fixed bayonets? That said, next door is One Stop, which could sort of double up as a minor injuries unit; I think they sell Super Glue (issued, as many already know, to Vietnam War soldiers to seal stomach wounds) alongside an array of, what you could probably describe as, medical supplies: Maxi-pads for starters – an effective improvised bandage; tampons too – if you ever need to plug up a bullet wound, or a sizable gash.

Head lice causing you trouble? No need for expensive chemical treatment at either the hospital or surgery for this one – before going to bed for the night cover your head with a shower cap (a competent lashing of Clingfilm would work just as well) after massaging mayonnaise into your hair; wash it out in the morning – then use a fine comb to tweak out any dead eggs. If needed, repeat a week to 10 days later. Another thing to administer overnight, for those with a niggling splinter (not that you’d necessarily need an A&E for such a menial issue), is a piece of bread over the offending spike of wood or metal – wrapped in a Band-Aid, or Sellotape if the purse strings have tightened. Let it set overnight and the splinter may be drawn out and attached to the plaster or tape by morning. If talk of permanent hospital closure in Ludlow sets the panic levels high you could always cut up an entire cucumber (the bigger the better) placing it all in a saucepan of water, where the chemicals and nutrients from the vegetable will react; releasing a soothing, relaxing aroma in the steam. And on the subject of boiling water – if you happen to burn your tongue on a too-early sip of tea, then suck on a sugar cube to ease the pain away. Sugar can even heal bedsores, I’m told, but not entirely sure how to apply it. The 2decaying poster, left advertising this year’s Ludlow Festival, may be hanging in there, but the event itself is definitely dead... again. I’m aware of news accounts reporting a shocked

“To my surprise, with sobs and sighs, my nightingale shrieked: “Never! This is my last ... my final shift ... my ultimate endeavour!”

Ludlow A&E

text} Ian Barge – POETRY – When I came last to Ludlow In search of A and E, (Five jars of ale, one rusty nail: A red, infected knee) A lass with raven tresses And cherry blossom hands, Like nectar, drew my throbbing pain. And wound my cotton bands. I asked her when I should return That she should change my dressing; For ne’er before had I beheld A nurse so … prepossessing. To my surprise, with sobs and sighs, my nightingale shrieked: “Never! This is my last ... my final shift ... my ultimate endeavour! By Telford’s meads the Trust’s in trouble; What tissued lies th’accountants weave! They’ve squandered corn and fired the stubble; Watch the Wrekin squirm and heave. Let Shropshire lads and lasses rise! Oh, sir, take up our cause. Or when you next to Ludlow come: dark wards and padlocked doors.” “Oh, never fear. We’ll fight, my dear, For Justice-under-Clee. For tell me, what would Housman do Without his A and E?”

3 town, full of stunned traders, who seem hard-hit and confused about how we’re going to survive without this “much-needed” festival; a festival that was rescued, relatively recently, following its folding in 2012. Citing a lack of funds to march on any longer, the baton was handed to Chris Davies who, in terms of 2014, wheeled in David Essex, Jim Davidson and Ruby Turner. How could have it gone wrong; especially when, keeping with tradition, Shakespeare was staged in the castle grounds, out in the open (at the mercy of wind and rain), and costing an arm and a leg to manage? “Ludlow needs the festival” – really? I’ll put my penny’s worth in and suggest we should forget Shakespeare and the open-air castle as a venue, and take cues from what really works in this town, entertainment-wise. Take a leaf out of the May Fair’s book for starters – it takes over the heart of the town with different stages dotted around, commandeering side streets, with the accompaniment of food and drink. And you only need to read a few lines into this issue’s cover story to recognise that one of this town’s grandest (though under-used) venues, St Laurence’s, has been effectively waving its hands about, in a desperate attempt to offer itself as a practical arena, since the 11th century. Yes, classical events do take place, but there is so much more that this great space could be used for. It is also worth noting, at this point, that the Arts Festival was first held here in 1960 to raise funds for St Laurence’s, so isn’t it about time that some other

key festivals were hosted in it (ideas invited and welcomed) – especially as the church is our headline act (rating #1 on TripAdvisor in terms of Ludlow attractions; Ludlow Castle and The Assembly Rooms rating fourth and fifth respectively). One event, which has been successfully going, on and off, since 1913, is the oldest and most competitive road-trial event in the vintage calendar: 3The Levis Cup Trial. Hosted by The North Birmingham Section of the VMCC (The Vintage Motorcycle Club), the event attracts entries from all corners of the UK and beyond and was first held on October 4th 1913 when the winner’s (donated by the makers of Levis Motorcycles) was awarded to Leslie Guy, riding a Scott. The event originally started by the main Post Office in Birmingham City Centre, and the route ran to Ludlow and back, with a distance of roughly 100 miles. The event lapsed with the outbreak of WW1 until 1919, and, later, lapsed again until it was revived in September 1954 – the original Birmingham start-point was then considered impractical, forcing a change to the Red Lion at Holt Heath and a similar route of 100 miles was maintained. Later still, the start was moved down the road to Hallow. In 2014, most took on the challenge in bikes harking from the Twenties and Thirties, with offerings from BSA, Ariel, New Imperial, and Royal Enfield; and, from the Fifties, entries included a James J9, Francis Barnett Falcon, DMW ISDT, and a Kreidler

Florett. The winner, Bob Ashwin, recorded an average speed of 18mph – departing at 10:01; arriving at 12:52 – on his 4hp 1913 Champion. Amazingly, only four of the original 51 starters failed to record a time – two never made it off the start line and the other two retired. 4The

Globe/Chang Thai celebrated 10 years of trading on Sunday, 7th September, with a private religious ceremony which included a blessing of the building. Sadly we don’t have a photograph to illustrate this remarkably interesting and intimate event (my fault, as I advised photographer Richard to meet me there at 10pm, rather than the intended 10am). The trio of Thai monks travelled to Ludlow’s Market Street from a Buddhist temple in Birmingham – where they performed a blessing with the staff of The Globe, followed by a procession of rice offerings, by those present, to the seated monks – before we all sat down and enjoyed the blessed Thai dishes. An evening of even more food, an emotional speech, and the unveiling of a glass elephant followed. Cheers Adam for the kind invite. Sorry you missed out Rich...

One hundred years since nineteenyear-old 10346 Private John Henry Baron tragically lost his life during the Battle of Armentières (WW1), he was commemorated in a fine way, with the 5planting of a tree at St Leonard’s churchyard. The plaque’s inscription reads: This tree was brought back

from Armentières, from the battlefield where Private J H Baron (the first Ludlow man to be killed in the First World War) fell on 23 October, 1914. It was replanted here on the centenary of his death 23 October, 2014. We will remember them. 10346 Pte John Henry Baron, who served in the 1st Battalion KSLI, once resided at 27, St John’s Road (the road that links Lower Broad Street and Old Street, a couple of doors away from The Wheatsheaf Inn). 6Matt

Tommey and Craig Powers, who turned the Bennetts End Inn around, seemingly overnight, now have their sights set on Ludlow again. Matt has got his feet firmly under the table of The Wine Bar, in Quality Square and, in doing so, is about to change the name back to Ego’s (Ego’s Kitchen & Wine Bar to be precise), whilst Craig’s gone for The Wheatsheaf Inn, down on Lower Broad Street. Though the latter remains tied to Marston’s, there is talk of sprucing things up a little, keeping in line with what was achieved at Hope Bagot’s Bennetts End. And at the end of the day Marston’s do have a pretty extensive and respectable list of real ales in their repertoire (including Ringwood’s Old Thumper) that I’m sure Craig will make best use of. If both these chaps can reel in eaters and drinkers to such a relatively rural location as Hope Bagot (with their popular menu and impressive service), I eagerly await the resulting footfall of these two in-town venues.

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A small selection of your emails, letters, postcards and social posts from Facebook and Twitter

Letters to the Ledger We’d love to hear from you – editor@ludlowledger.co.uk

– PROFILE – I have come across Ludlow Ledger, a contemporary newspaper that expresses endearment and hope. So refreshing and I thank you! Regarding your article ‘Pavement Statement’ on page 15, issue 2... I feel your paper has been the first to consider and listen to the youth. There is hope and potential for more of this I feel Eileen Cowles Ludlow ---------------------------------May I join all your other readers in commending this new addition to the Ludlow literary scene? I particularly appreciate the clarity of the layout and the high standard of the images – I know the content is important too. I am sure that the Ludlow Ledger will go from strength to strength. Jill Howorth Silk Top Gallery ---------------------------------Have just really enjoyed Ludlow Ledger no 2, a literary magazinejournal with something on every page to detain and entertain. Really, one of the best, if not the best I’ve ever encountered. I shall be looking out eagerly for no 3. If I was a local advertiser, this is where I’d be putting most my budget. And it should be on every hotel bed in and around town as the best vade mecum. Renewed congratulations. Chris Crowcroft Ludlow ---------------------------------Recently picked up a copy of Ludlow Ledger from Ludlow train station. Most impressed with the interesting and well written articles. Keep up the good work. Mrs. Helen Jones Knowbury ---------------------------------I’m an ex journalist (Daily Mail) and former TV producer (BBC Panorama, World in Action, etc). I was never a production journalist but can recognise good writing and layout when I see it. You’re to be commended for the Ludlow Ledger; it really is excellent. I was at an EMAP Publishing reunion near Peterborough a fortnight ago and, without exception, those present mourned the passing of traditional local papers. Maybe the Ludlow Ledger is a model for the future? I hope so. Geoffrey Seed Welshpool ---------------------------------FROM one print publisher to another: I wanted to let you know that I am really impressed. Ludlow Ledger is a

very clever idea, and something I’ve never seen before – almost a hybrid between a craft magazine and a local newspaper. I think you’re really on to something, as I genuinely think it is groundbreaking stuff – not often you see someone come up with a genuinely new concept these days.. Fraser Allen Edinburgh ---------------------------------As Friends of of St Leonards Churchyard, we were immensely saddened by the article and photographs printed in issue no 2. The Friends of St Leonards Churchyard was formed in 2006 because of the overgrown state of the churchyard and its misuse. Over the last eight years, the Friends have spent a great deal of effort, time and money on the churchyard to create an amenity for local people and visitors. We aim to balance wildlife preservation, hence the areas of undergrowth and nettles, with the churchyard’s heritage. Many of the headstones have been restored and the five war graves have been exposed, cleaned and maintained. In that time, a large area has been cleared and picnic tables provided; these have been used for social gatherings, family picnics and

student projects. Also, every year a remembrance service is held close to one of the war graves and poppy wreathes are placed on all five. Our group of volunteers, supported by ‘Caring for God’s Acre’, has regular working parties to maintain and improve the churchyard. We do what we can – constrained, as always, by resources. The cost of bringing this Victorian churchyard back to its former glory would cost hundreds of thousand of pounds. Ludlow can be proud of a wildlife haven and green space in the town that recognises the past but also provides a much-appreciated facility. Most people visiting respect the churchyard, do not litter and clear up after their dogs. However there are always some who don’t, despite the bins provided. John Aitken Ludlow Anyone wishing to support John Aitken and the Friends of St Leonards Churchyard in what they do, or muck in by joining their working parties, are most welcome. Your first port of call: Chat to John: johnaitken01@yahoo.co.uk ---------------------------------The photo [top, right] was taken back in 1957, during that part of my life when I held the office of Town Crier. I was sworn in by the Mayor, Sid Price, whose family have been bakers since Doomsday. “Come up into the council chamber,” said Sid, and so I followed him up the stairs where he showed me the uniform – hanging in an old wardrobe. “We’ll have to swear you in, now where’s the bible? That’s the important thing... because unless you’re sworn in you cannot be a bailiff – and if you ain’t a bailiff you can’t shout on the street. If you want to go around the town with a loud speaker on a car

future “This is the ly for genuine ... lism local journa g with tin communica ity on the commun el like v a doorstep le apers good local p do” to always used

for the purpose of electioneering, for example, then you have to first of all get permission from the police... but a bailiff is above the police and therefore does not have to notify anyone before he cries.” Sid Price always wore a bowler hat and his knowledge about local government was legendary: he continued by saying: “There are certain other rules which are stated in writing and one of the important ones is that you shall charge a shilling a cry – but the most important is the last rule, which states that the person who engages the Town Crier must pay for a yard of ale which is to be drunk after the said cries have been made. “All cries must be made at each town gate as well as the Butter Cross and the Bull Ring; seven cries is seven shillings and a yard of ale, which is what you are entitled to.” The uniform fitted and I was duly sworn in and made the first cry with Sid Price our Mayor looking on. It was that time in my life when there were real town councils in England, before the rights of local people had been stolen from them by faceless turd-stranglers, sitting behind desks in places like Shrewsbury’s Shirehall. We are losing everything here, in Ludlow: the town hall, post office, dole office; even the parking meter enforcers drive 60 miles a day just to issue tickets. Our town council now no more than a fancy dress ball, today, to be rolled out on special occasions... it gets more and more like a toy town every day. Mike Sargent Ludlow How long will it be, Mike, until you are able to add the police station, youth centre, hospital and the town wall, to the already long list of Ludlow’s continual losses? Ludlow Ledger editor, Jon, was recently interviewed by Hold The Front Page; describing Ledger as a: “24-page paper, which is showcased by imaginative writing and engaging photography with a strong Sunday supplement feel to it...” The following comments were in reaction to the posted article. You can view the story and comments here: http://tiny.cc/htfpg I really think there is a market for good quality print and I have a hunch this could succeed. If only the likes of TM, Newsquest and JP, would invest in quality! Inkstained Would love to see this succeed and prove there’s a market for quality writing still. Mr Nice long form reading, great photography and insightful pieces will always be popular. I think he’s on a safe bet. Fishyphil Let’s hear it for the truly local printed paper. You really can’t beat it and I am proud to be involved with one myself. Readers love good community papers produced by people who understand the area. Digital is great for a particular demographic, but in rural parts where connectivity is hit and miss, our readers want a paper to grab and read. Long may it continue. Hacking cough

If you have something to say about the content within these pages, then please do send your letters or emails to: Ludlow Ledger Hillkroft Bromfield Road Ludlow Shropshire SY8 1DW -------editor@ludlowledger.co.uk

This is the future for genuinely local journalism. It is not Woodward and Bernstein, and it is not the digital nirvana sought by so many of the big provincial publishers in danger of losing their way. But it is worthy and it is worthwhile – a way of communicating with the community on a doorstep level like good local papers always used to do. I like the cut of risk-taker Jon’s jib and I wish him and his team every success. Graeme Anderson Sunderland Echo This HTFP article should be required reading for those industry leaders and the National Union of Journalists could encourage members to draw it to the attention of shareholder groups – perhaps a mail shot with copies of the Ledger would wake them up. Fellwalker ---------------------------------This should come out every month! Fantastic read once again. Team Bamboozled! Via Twitter Frequency will hopefully change in 2015. ---------------------------------Very good new free newspaper for our fair town: informative and entertaining. Well done Richard Stanton and Jon Saxon John Challis Via Twitter

Who helped make this issue possible?

“a nation of borderers”

Border view text} Simon Pease

– OBSERVATIONS – Driving from Culmington to Knighton on September 18th this year, I became aware of how many signs I passed which denoted some notional boundary: Shropshire, Herefordshire and Wales all welcomed me as I drove along the A4113 – in some places passing from one to the other and back, within the space of a few short miles. When I got home, my attention was drawn to another dividing line, that between Scotland and England. Now that the Scottish referendum is over and the brouhaha in the media surrounding it has subsided, the country as a whole is left considering the result and what it now means for all of us. There is little doubt that, although the referendum was about independence for Scotland, it was also a catalyst for the rest of us. In a sense, we are a nation of borderers. You don’t have to travel very far, in any direction, before you reach some kind of border. Those of us sitting in Ludlow, with the Welsh hills looming in the near distance, may be a little more aware of this than some, but Londoners see a border somewhere around the M25, the Cornish see a border at the Saltash bridge, and the Cumbrians and Northumbrians feel the presence of Hadrian’s wall. On the other hand the Scottish Lowlanders, or the people of Knighton may well feel they know more about borders than any Englishman, to say nothing of the Irish, or come to that Lancastrians as they contemplate their Yorkshire neighbour. Strange, isn’t it, that in a world in which we can be transported in an instant, through the internet, to the remotest parts of our planet, and in which an economic chill in China can have a real impact on dairy farmers in Shropshire, or a rampant virus in Africa can cause a death in Texas or Spain, that we should still see these borders (often no more than a notional line drawn on a map) as significant? Perhaps it is a comforting way of giving our world an understandable human scale and some order, in the face of apparently limitless complexity and interconnections. Perhaps defining ourselves by the nearest border gives us an illusory scale and simplicity. The world will not go away and leave us alone now, any more than it did in 1945. So since the Scots have had their say, what now? Clearly the country cannot simply continue as before. Even those of us who see ourselves as committed Unionists may have felt a twinge of uneasiness at some of the persuasive arguments in favour of independence put forward by our Scottish Cousins. London is far from Edinburgh and further from the Shetland islands. Does the Westminster government have the interests of the people who live in those parts close enough to its heart? Come to that, does it have the interests of Manchester, Birmingham, Bristol, or even Ludlow, close enough to its heart? How do we combine a sensible desire to make our democracy more local, more relevant to us as individual citizens, with a true understanding of the modern world and our relationship with the other humans who live on this small planet? And if the Scots were asked what they wanted, shouldn’t we be – right here in Ludlow?

– CONTRIBUTORS –

A quick flick through this issue shows how much fun it has been (reads: how much work was involved) for photographer RICHARD STANTON to illustrate this issue’s words. I’m surprised the shots came out so sharp, for the cover story, considering many were precariously taken 60-foot up an old wooden fireman’s ladder. Find out more of his ground level work here: stantonphotographic.com This issue MIA (DIVERSE) DAVIS has documented dominoes (p24), kitchen table businesses (p16) Ludlow’s Marmite chef, Martyn (p22) and seasoned firewood (p11). Mia is also a bit of a copywriting expert – who can be reached on 01584 877624 or via miadavis37@googlemail.com For this issue LIZ HYDER met with Ludlow’s Young Farmers Club (p15) as they celebrated 70 years on the go. I can also tell from a quick glance at Twitter, she has painted the inside of her airing cupboard to resemble the front of a blue police call box. For a slightly more serious take on Miss Hyder, why not check out: lizhyder.co.uk

BOXING – Chadd Woodfield (14) and Gabrielle Fanning (16) spar at Ludlow Amateur Boxing Club, Wheeler Road, Sandpits; which was officially re-opened this September following the demolition of the previous unstable building in 2011. Anyone interested in getting involved can call the club’s vicechairman and coach Colin Woodfield on 07886 502485

Train station Brian’s brother RON POWELL is back with another trip down memory lane, this time taking us to 1968 (p19) to a time of tights, rain and cigars – which is taken from his memoir, Shropshire Blue, which can be found at Castle Bookshop, in Market Square. For everything else, why not check out: ronpowell.co.uk Writer CHLOE ALEXANDER is also back (p10) this time keeping an eye out for traditional painted signs around town. Cast your eye over: chloealexanderdesign.dphoto.com Ledger’s SALLY NEWMAN-KIDD is in two minds as to whether the issue-onissue increase in words is a good thing or not (26,220 this time around). If you need to get hold of our Sally-Sub, try: sally@nka.co.uk Cheers also to IAN BARGE for his Housman-inspired poem (p7), TREVOR LLOYD for this issue’s Local Icon text and pictures (p5), JOANNE ROACH for her bit on Orleton School (p21) and local author DEREK BEATTIE for kindly transcribing and sending over the WW1 letters sent to Ludlow from the trenches, POW camps and hospital beds; (pages 12-14). The accompany photos, along with some of the letters, also feature in the fascinating Logaston Press book ‘South Shropshire’s First World War’ by Beattie (pictured above) – available from Castle Bookshop, Castle Square, Ludlow, priced £12.95.

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If you haven’t already noticed yet, Ludlow Ledger now has its own cartoon strip, Off The Ledge (to your left on p8) penned by Brimfield cartoonist Roger Penwill. You can find out more about Roger here: penwill.com And final thanks to Simon Pease, who wrote his ‘Observations’ piece (p10). It appears Simon was once a member of the Senior Management Structure of the Foreign Office.

Off The Ledge cartoon on p8} Roger Penwill | Boxing image p9} and Cannon image p23} Richard Stanton | WW1 book image on p9} Gail Turbutt

The art of quill, mahlstick and a steady hand

Hand-lettering of Ludlow text} Chloe Alexander | image} Richard Stanton – STREET SIGHTS – It is, pun intended, a sign of the times that my computer spell checker prefers ‘songwriter’ to ‘signwriter’. It’s tempting too, to think that sign writing for shop fasciae has gone the way of letterpress printing and handmade paper, but not so for Trevor Lloyd who has maintained those traditions with his splendid card shop, tucked away in King Street, and his flagship bookbinders workshop at the top end of Ludlow’s Old Street. Unusually for me, it wasn’t the tooled leather spines and pegged up copies of sheets from Exodus (hanging from a line above the workbench in the workshop) that drew my eye, but outside, where the shop sign was being painted by a fellow younger than me and with a much, much steadier hand. On enquiry, I learnt that Trevor discovered Scott Hill painting a fascia for a community centre, near his home in Knighton, and snapped him up for this prestigious commission – it would not do to have a traditional craft workshop with a back-lit, perspex fascia board. Scott, armed with his quill brush (“on its last legs”) and mahlstick (which maintains the painter’s steadiness as he leans his wrist against it – it in turn leans against the board), produced, in a single movement, a curve to the B of

Bookbinding which was a joy to behold. Scott trained for five years in gilding, bookbinding and lettering, and finds sign painting a soothing occupation. He was somewhat abashed, but clearly pleased, that his commissions mostly come from those passing in the street. Ludlow has its fair share of traditional painted fascia boards – fairer indeed than many towns. A favourite of mine is Poyner’s in Broad Street which, in its delightful resistance to the modern world, proves that a fine, painted letter is an enduring pleasure; well it is to me at any rate. There are a small number of what I like to call vernacular examples of lettering well worth seeking out. I’m intrigued by Smith & Co, deciding that the very top of a building in King Street was worthy of their immortalisation in cream-coloured brick. The straight letters of the ‘MITH’ stand between the trickier (for the brickie) S and the ampersand. Who were they, Smith & Co? However long ago it was done, it’s still there and I wager it will be until the building itself falls. Tucked away at 14 Linney is a fine cast iron sign for what was Cooper & Bluck’s nail manufactory. The factory is long gone, but the lettering remains inset into the facade A rather special sign in Old Street explains that the house was the old house of the town preacher and

lecturer; I suspect that the sign is much later than the house date of 1611, but there it is, hand carved and still visible and enjoyable. Rickards has splendid brass lettering set into the marble flagstone at its entrance, and lovely gilded lettering above the door – a tradition continued by the reasonably recent County Goldsmiths shop tucked away in Market Street. I’m enchanted by the arbitrary use of an italic initial C for County and G for Goldsmiths – jaunty, though no real reason for it. Ludlow Period House Shop has overtones of fairground-shadowed letters and, on the opposite side of Corve Street, garage doors are treated to a jolly hand-painted ‘no parking’ warning. Who could disobey such a friendly painted instruction? One of the real gems for a painted lettering enthusiast (am I alone?) is, of course, the majestic Marston Brothers Corn and Seed warehouse, across the road from the train station and next to Tesco’s car park. The business has long since gone but the remaining painted letters can still be celebrated – in my view they are integral to the quality of the building. In a world where everyone has access to fonts on their Macs and PCs, does anyone actually notice lettering around them? I would like to think so. If I could persuade young eyes to seek out the lettering in towns, and begin to understand the craft and noble tradition of lettering set forth by the Emperor Trajan on the column in his name in Rome (where it is said the Roman Letter originates), I would be content that Scott’s signwriting tradition will continue. If you haven’t already, take time in Ludlow to look up and notice the craftsmanship of the signwriter and lettering artist. I’m sure Scott will be glad you do.

ISSUE #1 Prize-winning greyhound retires to Ludlow Short fiction about bees and loss Upcycling with Jessica Jackson Andy Boddington’s summer of love Chatting to Charlton Arms’ Roy Facts about baking bread Being overtaken in a Fiesta by two kids on a sofa ludlowledger.com/archive Make a bird table or put up a feeder

Britain’s nature in December text edited from} www.open.edu | image} Notts Exminer – NATURE – WHAT to look for? Most leaves have fallen by now, but ferns stand out on the woodland floor, especially the glossy evergreen fronds of hart’s tongue fern and hard shield fern. An obvious fungus on dead wood is the candle snuff fungus, which looks like a blackened candle-wick. Dark December days mean that many creatures such as grey squirrels are gathering what food they can in a short time. Rooks and crows roost together in huge flocks in woodland and, if you’re lucky, you might see a barn owl ghosting over a frosty field late one afternoon. There are still a few late flowers: chickweed, red dead nettle and winter heliotrope. Yellow clumps of mistletoe dotted with white berries are food for mistle thrushes, fieldfares and wintering blackcaps. Did you know? Common dolphins generally dive for only a short time (10 seconds to 2 minutes), although dives of 8 minutes have been recorded. They keep offshore but you can see them at any time of year, if you’re visiting the coast, although numbers are greatest between August and December.

Habitat of the month: Many birds visit Britain in the winter to escape from the cold further north. When the day is short, winter waders have little time to feed so they probe the sand and mud for food when the tide is out. Photo opportunity: winter waders. When the tide comes in birds huddle together in large groups and it’s a spectacular sight. Wrap up warm and wear dark clothing so the birds don’t become alarmed. A telephoto lens and tripod are essential as you are unlikely to get close.

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The Bennetts End Inn ~ Hope Bagot Lane ~ Knowbury ~ Ludlow ~ SY8 3LL ~ Tel: 01584 890220

text} Mia Davis | image} Richard Stanton – MEET & GREET – South Shropshire is notorious for rich undulating farmland and dramatic hills, yet the acres of woodland stretched along this border landscape also make this one of the more forested parts of the UK countryside. From Wenlock Edge to the vast expanse of Mortimer Forest, there’s certainly no shortage of trees. However, far from simply admiring the leafy beauty of the forests, David Ward is one man who has quite literally managed to distinguish the wood from trees - and is doing quite well from it as a result. Fuelling the wood burners and fireplaces gracing cottages, converted barns, town houses and pubs across the area, his Woofferton-based firewood business now sends out over 1,500 tons of wood a year to keep the good citizens of this area warm. An achievement which is all the more remarkable considering he started out seven years ago with nothing more than a £2,000 tractor bought from eBay and a pile of wood. Meeting David at his wood yard, right next to the railway line at Woofferton, I am greeted by hulking great tree trunks neatly stacked up from one end of the yard to the other. The scene could only be improved by men wearing checked shirts and logging boots. Possibly even a stray moose. This is not Canada but it’s still an impressive sight. How did he grow this business, and why? After deciding that he wanted out of a logistics career and to start his own business, he noticed the huge market in wood burners. “Two things happened, really; I remember going into a wood in Hampshire and seeing lovely beech hardwood going over to France to make paper and I thought, “that’s crazy, we could be using it here.” I also noticed there were lots of stoves being

sold by several local stove installers. So I put two and two together and firewood seemed a good thing to get into. There was a growing market back then but it’s now exploded. I’m working from 6am until 9pm,” David observes, as we mooch about the yard. Yet although his yard is piled high with the stuff, the plain fact is that there is a shortage of wood. Forestry Commission figures tell us that only around ten per cent of hardwood forests in the West Midlands are managed properly. “It’s a difficulty,” explains David, “which could easily be resolved. “There is no problem with running out of wood, it’s just that forests aren’t being managed. Over the last 50 years they’ve just been left to go wild. A lot of the timber is at full maturity and will just die off. A properly managed wood though will produce so much more timber. And the whole woodland ecosystem benefits as a result.” Fortunately for wood-burner owners and squirrels alike, the Government is now giving grants for proper management and a lot of estates are starting to open up their woodlands as a result. David points to a pile of timber fresh from a local estates as evidence. “They’ve started a woodland management plan, as have a lot of estates, because timber prices have risen so sharply.” So all of the wood delivered to David’s yard is locally sourced, and seasoned oak, ash, beech and sycamore are the most popular, with his on-site kiln serving the market for burners requiring kiln-dried wood. “I always start out by asking customers how they use their fire. A working couple, for instance, who need quick, instant heat when they get home, need softwood to get the fire going quickly in the evening.

You work out what’s best for them.” The actual process is relatively simple. The wood comes in and is stacked out to dry, normally for 12 months. Using a Wallace-and-Gromit-style contraption (more technically known as a Firewood Processing Machine) the logs are then fed into a machine and cut to size. They make their way up a conveyor and then straight into bags or into a cage ready for the kiln. And so for the science bit: although I’m expecting to see something that looks like a steam engine, David’s kiln wouldn’t look out of place in Dr No. A space-age looking water cylinder holds 4,000 litres of water at a temperature of around 90 degrees Celsius, heated by a high-performance wood burner which burns the wood that isn’t good enough to sell. It feeds the hot water through heat exchanges in the kiln, with fans circulating the hot air. When the kiln reaches the right temperature it vents the wet air out and brings in dry air from the outside. The best thing about the process is that it’s totally carbon neutral, and his next plan is to install solar panels, so that the entire site is producing its own energy. Inviting me to step into the kiln itself, which is normally packed with crates of wood, the experience is like standing inside a tumble dryer running at 70 degrees. The result is crackly, kiln-dried wood with a very low moisture content all ready for sale, and, aside from doorstep delivery, the process is complete. As darkness falls in the yard, an autumnal chill sharpens the air and it starts to spit with rain, I’m reminded that there’s no greater pleasure than a roaring log fire. So roll on winter and do your worst – we have all the wood we need.

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Ludlow’s First World War

Letters to Ludlow, from the front images} Shropshire Museum Services and Ray Farlow – HISTORY – on Tuesday August 4th 1914 the Town Crier of Ludlow, Richard Morgan, paraded the streets in full regalia, calling upon our town’s people to gather outside the old Town Hall in Castle Square. The subsequent crowd of some three thousand listened on as the Mayor of Ludlow, Councillor Samuel Valentine, officially announced the declaration of war from the Town Hall’s balcony. The 10:13 train – the following day – was packed with men heading off to the King’s Shropshire Light Infantry depot in Shrewsbury; the platform was crowded with mothers, wives and children waving farewell. We are privileged to print in their entirety a number of letters they later exchanged… sent between 1914 and 1917, from war-bound boats, front-line trenches, war hospitals and prisoner of war camps. ------------------------------------------Letter from Pte Harold Victor Kershaw RAMC – 34 Ambulance Train – to his parents at Rosedene, East Hamlet, Ludlow, dated 15 August 1914 Dear Father and Mother, Just arrived in France more dead than alive after being packed like sardines in a troopship. We begin a hundred miles march tomorrow for the Belgian frontier, and work our way into Germany. There is plenty of sport here with the French people. They almost went mad with enthusiasm as we marched into Boulogne. They gave us a splendid reception. Give my best love to all and please keep my letters. Your loving son, Harold. Letter from 7759 Pte Fred Bowen – attached to the 6th Division Cycle Company – of the Crown Inn, Knowbury – to Mr W J Perry of the New Inn, Upper Galdeford. Bowen had been a National Reservist – letter, dated 23-25 October 1914

Just a few hurried lines. Well, perhaps you won’t hardly believe it, but I am writing these few lines actually in the firing line. As a matter of fact we are expecting a German attack and perhaps this may be the last opportunity that I shall get to drop you a line… I have not any cause to make you believe that this is my last letter by the way I am writing you, but there is gammy things happening out here and, of course, your life is in the palm of your hand as the saying goes, but I am here with thousands of other brave fellows ready to do our duty for King and Country. We must fight and fight our very hardest to rid the world of the dreadful scum who are creating such dreadful havoc amongst the poor innocent women and children of France. As I write this I take a look around this wayside café, which is smashed beyond recognition. Everywhere is turned absolutely upside down. Of course, their attentions were first on sampling the wine and beer. They have not left a spot in the place and I need hardly say that the poor people whose house this is or was have fled for their lives to trudge from place to place like hunted hares. It makes a lump to come in ones throat as you witness these awful sights. How thankful we English people ought to be that these same things are not happening in England. We have lived in all sorts of funny places. We had three weeks living in a cave, but we made ourselves quite comfortable, although the shells were bursting just outside the door. The only was I can sum this war up is ‘Hell absolutely.’ You see thousands of shells fired every day. It is a most awful feeling to hear a big shell coming along

and wondering where it is going to drop, especially if it is what is called a ‘Coal box’ – they are the devil. I belong to the Cycle Company. We take the place of mounted infantry. You see we can get along very quickly and quietly. You would be surprised to see us moving along at night in the dark … We get some very ticklish jobs: you never know the minute you are going to get bowled over by the Germans in an ambush. Our platoon had a most thrilling adventure. We were sent out to locate the position and strength of the Germans one morning. It was a thickly wooded country and before we knew what we were doing we were bang into them. If I had not happened to see a Uhlan walking down the side of a hedge, I am afraid we should have all have gone under. They were waiting for us to ride past them, but by some chance or instinct I spotted one just at the right moment and like a flash I dismounted and gave our officer the tip, but before we could get off the road under cover they opened up a murderous fire into us, but thanks to bad marksmanship we only lost two men. One poor fellow got shot clean through the heart and neck and the other in the face., but we all got our bikes shot in some place or other. Some chaps got bullets in their clothing. It is marvellous to see the freaks that bullets play; they twist and turn about all over you and then not hurt you…. (this section written one or two days later) It is with great pleasure and a feeling of relief that I continue this scribble. Never have I witnessed such a night. Another tremendous battle has been fought. It was a sight, which will be imprinted on my memory for life. It is out of all question to try and explain it to anyone, only those concerned know what it is like. Our British rifle fire ‘Magnificent;’ the roar of our heavy artillery ‘Loud like thunder;’ the scream of the shells, the vivid flashes as they explode, the burst of shrapnel over our heads. Hell must be worse. Can anything or anybody live through it; and yet we have lived another day …. It cannot go on much longer like this. Everything so beautiful and calm this morning, a glorious sun shining over our heads. It all seems like a dreadful nightmare. I would soon be in the old New Inn than here, but why say that? We must fight on and win. Letter from 1315 Pte (later Cpl) George James Hargest RAMC 7th Cavalry Field Ambulance – to his wife Mary who lived at 88, Corve Street. Letter dated 23/24 October 1914.

My dear Wife, Just a line to you, once again to let you know I am quite alive, but have had one or two narrow escapes … We are having a fair time of it between the fights. I have been in it twice now. It’s terrible under shell fire. No one can explain what it is like until they have been in it. The first ten days were a bit like a holiday but since the, o dear! … We are hoping for a bit of a rest today but the big guns are roaring all round seeking for someone to kill. The Belgian people have been very good to all of us. Most of them cannot give you enough to satisfy their minds. Well Mary, it’s awful to see the Belgian people leaving their homes and most of their things behind. I have got some tales to tell you when I come home. One thing I would like would be a few Woodbines; cannot get any English ones here, nor any papers to read. I wrote part of the letter yesterday and the other part today. Keep this letter Mary, as last night was simply terrible to bear. I shall never forget the 23rd October as long as I shall live. It

was awful, it made the strongest man’s nerve tremble. I will tell you about it some day. Letter from 10114 Pte. Edward Preece 1St Battalion KSLI to his mother at 55 Upper Galdeford. Letter, dated 4 November 1914

Just a few lines to let you know I am still in the land of the living and in the best of health. At the time of writing we are entrenched a few hundred yards from the Germans and they don’t forget to let us know it. They drop a few dozen shells into us three or four times a day just to remind us that they are still there. Sometimes they strike lucky and get a couple of our fellows but as soon as we hear the report we run to ground like rabbits; you would laugh to see us. I am next to Tiddley Pounds. He is corporal in charge of the next section and Biddy Didlick is about a dozen yards behind us in another trench. We were all side by side in our first scrap and it was all right to have old boy chums with one at ones first issue of fire for I can tell you it is a hellish time, but we are practically used to it now and, except for the German’s large shells, it is quite fun. They have taken a heavy toll of our ranks. Many of my old mates are gone, but only one Ludlow boy has been killed yet, that is young Cocky Baron. He was shot through the head and died almost instantly close to me. It seemed such a pity for he was only a young boy I expect his people know by now. ... We are all hoping it will be all over by Xmas. It is awfully cold here at night in the trenches; we get no blanket and the cold ground seems to strike straight to the bone. I should be glad if you could send me a clean shirt for I have not had a change since leaving England. 6807 Pte John Preece 2nd Battalion KSLI – 3 Holdgate Fee – letter from Wharncliffe War Hospital, Sheffield to John Diggle – dated 10 June 1915

I was all through the last battle for Ypres, and it was awful while it lasted. We held the Germans in check but it was touch and go with us once or twice. But our lads would not yield an inch to them though they outnumbered us in men and guns. Our lads are very bitter against the Germans for they have served some of our wounded awful, and the gas they have sent over is not fighting but murder. They can’t beat us though, whatever they try to do and the best of it is our boys are always happy and cheerful through the most trying times. They are also very bitter against the slackers and the strikers, and I have heard some very bitter remarks passed about the young unmarried men who have not joined to do their bit, and what some of our boys would do with them if they had the chance. Letter from a Cpl Jennings to the parents of 7239 Pte Robert Ward KSLI of 69, Lower Galdeford, dated 12 March 1915 and posted from Kendal

On March 1st the Germans opened a very heavy fire and poured out shrapnel from daybreak till about 5.30 pm when the firing ceased. They blew down the side of our look out in which there were six men including R Ward and A Wait of Ludlow. These two immediately got on their hands and knees and started to rebuild the trench. When they had got it complete Ward noted that the left side had given way. He started work at once, fixing a machine gun plate in the corner. The enemy opened a rapid fire and a bullet glided off the plate and struck Ward on the left side of the forehead. At the same moment a shrapnel shell burst in the trench. Ward fell and said “I have got it this time.” Wait bandaged him up the best he could and he was sent a small drop of rum and water. Wait bathed his lips and gave him a sup. Fifteen minutes later Ward came round and his first words he said were “Art, for God’s sake keep a good look out or else we shall all have it.” He was in the trench six and a half hours before it was dark enough to shift him and he walked through the slush and

water up to his knees until he met the stretcher bearers. When he was dressed the doctor found that Ward had a bullet wound on the left side of his head, was blind in the left eye, had a fractured top jaw at the right side and other shrapnel wounds to the body. When we were together before in action Ward was one of ten who carried iron sheets under enemy fire and helped to build supports for the trenches. I have not known him long but what I saw of him he was always as smart as he could be and active and willing. He was shifted to Rouen, France and on my way home, knowing he was there, I went to see him and I am pleased to say that after only a week he is going on well and will soon be in England. 5403/25968 Pte Harold Victor Kershaw to his mother at Rosedene, East Hamlet. Letter dated 23 June 1915

No doubt you have heard of the horrible fate which befell our gallant and brave hero Lt Warneford V.C. and his companion Mr H B Needham. They were brought into our mortuary here and accorded a State reception. I had the honour of being chosen as one of the State Guard over the bodies, which were placed in separate shells, covered with flags and numberless and most costly wreaths. One of them in the form of an aeroplane must have been very costly. I never saw anything like it in my life; it was magnificent. Thousands of mourners came to view the scene which I can assure you was the grandest and saddest of my life. It was very tiring standing there like a statue amid the continual expressions of grief and praise. It was with great difficulty that I managed to restrain myself. I have been over ten months in France but, thank God, I am alive and well. Pte James Elisha Bishop 3rd Battalion Monmouthshire Regiment – parents at Diamond Cottage, Clee St Margaret. POW writing from hospital in Schule, Cologne, Germany to John Diggle

I can scarcely explain how pleased I was when I received your kind and welcome letter on June 19th as a bit of news from the old town is very acceptable here. I am pleased to tell you that I am much better, my wounds were rather bad in the beginning, but I have only to thank God that I got away as I did. There are some very clever doctors in Germany and all the prisoners here are treated very well. I have been in hospital nearly two months, but I shall be leaving for camp shortly. There are a few English boys in hospital, including two of my own regiment so we pass the time away fairly lively but we are all counting the days when we can sing ‘And the first boats leaving for home.’ I am very pleased to hear the unveiling of the Roll of Honour passed off very satisfactorily and I trust I shall have the pleasure of seeing it one day. In the meantime I hope the boys of Ludlow who haven’t already come forth will think of their comrades in Germany who are waiting to come home. I received your letter, also paper, whilst in the trenches and I also wrote to thank you for same but was unable to post it on account of my poor brother. It contained lots of bits of experiences we went through at that time but the day I was made prisoner topped the whole. I think the fighting is rather quiet around that quarter now. I am very pleased my brother is still able to carry on the ‘snapping’ as the saying is in the trenches and I dearly hope he will do so throughout the war. 6118 L Cpl Thomas John Woodhouse 1st Battalion KSLI of 127, Corve Street – letter to John Diggle, dated 20 August 1915

Just a few lines to say I am still alive after several weeks of strenuous work. I an at the base at present having just come out of hospital after receiving a shrapnel wound to the fingers which I received in the last big attack you have

no doubt read about in the paper. My word, I don’t know if I ought to say but it was as bad as Neuve Chappelle. Our guns were great , as you will see when I tell you we walked into the German trenches without opposition. But the German guns were not idle for there were the big shells and all sorts of shells amongst us. I saw sights I hope never to see again. Our men are splendid. I saw acts of bravery which almost seemed impossible. One instance was a bomb battle between a Shropshire and the Germans. I will mention no name but this man actually stood on the parapet for a long time and bombed the Germans with their own bombs which we captured in the trenches. I eventually got my hit whilst guarding prisoners whom we had to bring out. We have read in the papers that the Germans are starved; well according to what we found in their trenches I don’t think they are, for there was bacon and cheese and the celebrated black bread and heaps of cigars, cigarettes and chocolate. It is my firm belief, though, that the Kaiser must be coming to the end of his resources for the prisoners taken included old men and very young boys, although there were also some tall, fine looking young men too. I hope any of the young men who read this will think about it and come and give us a lift. There are men who have been out here since the commencement and could do with a rest. Well come and relieve your pal or perhaps a relation. I hope you will forgive me for writing a letter of this type, but feelings get the better of men sometimes and they like to say what they think. Pte James Elisha Bishop 3rd Battalion Monmouthshire Regiment – letter to John Diggle from POW camp at Stendal, in Saxony-Anhalt, Germany – dated 5 September 1915

I am fairly well at present; my wounds are now well and I have been out of hospital a month and am now in a concentration camp at the above address where there are French, English, Belgians and Russians. There are about six thousand prisoners here altogether so you may guess the time is passing away fairly lively. There are about twelve of my own regiment here but I haven’t yet met any of the Shropshires. The camp here is very clean, also the barracks. There is a lovely swimming bath, which we have been using nearly every day, but the water is getting cold so it has been arranged for us to have a hot spray bath two or three times a week which is a treat. We have also got up a concert between the different prisoners once a week. The Russians are very good dancers whilst the French will sing until the roof is fairly raised. We have also been sent boxing gloves and a football both of which you may guess are made very good use of. I wish to thank the people of Ludlow for their kindness in sending me presents, as I may say they are extremely useful here. It is advised to send either biscuits or Quaker Oats instead of bread, as the latter is mostly bad when it reaches here. One or two mouth organs would be a great help to cheer the boys up. Letter from 39628 Signalman Ernest G Kershaw 32nd Field Ambulance 10th Division – to his parents at Rosedene, East Hamlet, Ludlow

All our chaps are in dugouts, and in my dugout there are two Lancashire lads, one chap comes from Wigan and the other from Earlstown and as all the Lancashire regiments have done such glorious work out here we are proud to think we are Lancashire lads, so we decided to call our dugout Lancashire Terrace. In case anything should happen to either of us we have arranged mutually to write to one another’s parents. Of course, we hope that nothing untoward will happen to either of us but you never know out here, as their high explosives come screaming through the air bringing their messages of death, and if they drop amongst troops they are sure to account for a lot of them. One shell

Top, l on t and C attach hospita secon lined the in diffe down w which 4th Au gath

op, left: In October 1914 the territorial members of the 4th Battalion KSLI came home to enjoy embarkation leave. Prior to sailing for the Far East, to allow regular troops to return to fight on the western front, this group paraded outside Ludlow Castle – watched by their families and the local populace – as they were given a civic farewell; top, right: Identical twins George nd Charles ‘Charlie’ Francis (both seated) and elder brother William (standing) – who were brought up at 1 Lower Mill Street – were members of G (Ludlow) Company of the Territorial Army tached to the 4th Battalion KSLI. All three brothers were waved off from Ludlow station the day after war was declared. William met his death in December 1917. George and Charlie were spitalised with trench foot by January 1918. Their stepbrother Arthur ‘Arty’ Griffiths, ran away from home aged 16 to join up. His father brought him back the first time but, after a successful econd attempt, Arty was wounded on the Western Front; returning home with only one leg; middle, left: The recruitment office in Ludlow was at 8 Corve Street – and here new volunteers d the pavement before walking off to the station, to catch the train to take them to the army depot at Shrewsbury; bottom, left: All towns and villages welcomed back their returning soldiers different ways. In Ludlow, on Saturday, 19th July, the town’s returnees were given a civic reception in Caste Square. All 570 of them were then invited to a sit-down cold luncheon, washed own with beer, in the town and market halls which had been decorated for the occasion; bottom, right: The Shropshire Yeomanry was made up of four squadrons. This is the Ludlow troop, which belonged to C Squadron; overleaf, top: The Mayor of Ludlow, Councillor Valentine, read out the official declaration of war from the balcony of the old Town Hall in Castle Square on h August 1914. As it was a local holiday at the time, many of the crowd were wearing their summer best; overleaf, below: The younger members of the Ludlow branch of the Boys Brigade gather in College Street prior to going out on cycle patrol in the local countryside. Their alloted task was to search for, and report on, possible German spies and saboteurs in the vicinity

All images and their captions were kindly supplied by} author Derek Beattie and publisher Andy Johnson (Logaston Press: logastonpress.co.uk)

14 the other day dropped amongst an India transport near us and killed two Indians and 42 mules. I have done little or no signalling out here as the do it all. My duty is now ambulance wagon orderly. My work is going to the advanced dressing station, which is just behind the reserve trenches, to fetch the wounded down to the field hospital. We landed here at Suvla Bay on August 7th under very heavy shrapnel fire and heaps of or chaps were killed before they landed on the shores, as the Turks were already waiting for us. Mines were strewn all over the shores and heaps of our fellows were blown to pieces. The sights we saw were very nerve testing. Our party landed safely without a single casualty. As soon as we landed we were sent out to pick up the wounded, which were many, and it rained in torrents. Never before in my life did I see such rain, and I may say it was the only wash I had for seven days. We went into the trenches for our wounded and the bullets were flying about us like hailstones. We came back in for a rest for a few hours the next morning at 6.00 O’clock; casualties in our ambulance, four killed, one wounded. The next day my officer got wounded in the shoulder with a bullet, then a few days later came our biggest blow, eight killed, seventeen wounded, eighteen missing, but two days later four of those missing turned up exhausted for the want of food and they said all the others must have been killed. One of these chaps said he had to pretend that he was dead. He could see the Turks firing and as soon as they killed or wounded one of our men who was out of the way a bit a Turk would go and pinch the mans ration (bully beef, biscuits, tea and sugar) off him. Water was one of the big drawbacks here on landing. The chaps in the firing line were without water for two or three days; it was cruel in the extreme. Heaps were coming in exhausted for want of water. Then came the taking of another important hill (Chocolate Hill). The Turks were simply slaughtered here, thousands of them lying about. At the foot of this hill was one of the most terrifying sights I have ever seen and never want to see the like of again. There were between twenty to thirty stretchers with patients on, waiting for the wagons to take them down to hospital, when the Turks and Germans let fly some shrapnel. Men who were already wounded were being killed or more seriously wounded. They killed one of our boys and wounded one officer and ten men. It was awful. I swore that the next Turk or German wounded who passed through my hands would have a remainder for it. The day after this the shrapnel burst over the hospital wounding eight of our chaps. I am anxiously waiting for news from them to hear how they are getting

on. They were sent to England so they must have been pretty bad cases. Since that lots of things have happened but are really too terrible to describe. I was talking to some infantrymen one morning when a shell came over. It took one man’s head clean off and killed two more besides injuring several. I happened to bob down in the trench and this saved myself from certain death. I have had some jolly narrow escapes and it is only through providence that I am still alive. The other morning I was up they sent three shells over which burst just over the wagon. They managed to hit an officer in the leg. I just dressed him and came down…. I am still living in hopes of having my Christmas dinner with you. Letter from 9805 Sgt George Rogers 1st Battalion KSLI of 132, Corve Street, Ludlow to J Barker headmaster of the British School, Old Street, Ludlow, dated 30 August 1915

I was sorry to hear of Stanley Stead’s death. He was killed in the charge I hear was made on the morning of August 9th. It is a day I shall never forget as long as I live, for the amount of shells they sent over on us during the remainder of that day was out of all count. Never through this campaign have I seen the like. But I am glad to say that me and my brother Jack got safely through. Pinches, a postman belonging to Ludlow (one of the men in my platoon) was wounded, but I think is going on well. Ben Price another Ludlow fellow was wounded, but the remainder as far as I know pulled through safely. It was a warm time while it lasted, the Germans fighting to the last. At times the men were so thick that it was impossible to use anything but fists in some parts of the line. When the time was up for us to get at them the lads could hardly wait for the word to go and I assure you they gave then something to remember gas and fire with. Our only regret was we hadn’t a little of their own medicine to give them a taste of, but we are more that a match for them with all their devices. They are a game lot when cornered with all their faults, but they seem to be under the impression that we shall shoot them if they are taken prisoners which accounts, perhaps, for their putting up a better fight than they otherwise would have done. My dugout shakes with the vibration of the guns. To parents of 8093 Sgt. George Brocklehurst, 6th Battalion KSLI – East Hamlet Nurseries – from his company commander

With the deepest sympathy I have to inform you that your gallant son died in hospital on September 1st of wounds received in action on the 29th August. It was about midnight and a German

shell struck three bombs which fell and exploded in a crowded trench wounding about eight men. Your son was wounded by small splinters all over his body and I expect the doctors found it impossible to keep the wounds in a healthy condition. Sgt. Brocklehurst had not been very long with us but his soldierly qualities were able to show themselves in many dangerous duties in which he played his part during this most strenuous time, and he will be very much missed by the officers and men of the company. He had been at the front for two years and was in charge of a machine gun. Letter from 17179 Sgt. William Ernest Jones RASC to his parents at 9, Bell Lane, dated 23 August 1917

Imagine yourself standing on Whitcliffe and looking down on Ludlow with half the town on fire and the flames bearing down on the other half… Of course, Salonika is quite a large place and really only a part has been destroyed but that part contained all the large shops, stores etc. and beautiful marble buildings, most luxury restaurants and hotels, cinemas etc. All are now blackened ruins and heaps of debris … At night the pavements were crowded with huddle women and children in pitiful distress and the streets, upon which showers of sparks and cinders were falling like snowflakes, were crowded with shouting people many half mad. To the Ludlow Advertiser from 291011 Pte. Ernest Massey – Royal Welsh Regiment of 14, New Road, East Hamlet, Ludlow

I am at present billeted in a barn behind the lines. Picture to yourself a square farmyard with a refuse heap in the middle, a pump on the left with two or three washing bowls dotted about, a house on the right and a barn at the top of the yard. This is our ‘billet.’ It is about half full of straw, having a ladder to get up into the top. Around the walls hang the various materials of war, rifles, steel helmets, equipment, box respirators and gas helmets. Towels hang on towel rails made of a piece of string with a nail at each end. Twenty or thirty Tommies lie down on their beds of straw, blankets, greatcoats, waterproof sheets and tunics with valises as pillows. Put a mess tin or two here and there, one or two chaps having an argument, some more playing cards and the rest cleaning rifles and singing or whistling and you have our billet at 9.p.m. The food is all right and our worst enemy is at present mud. It reminds me of a postage stamp in an album. ‘By gum it sticks.’ But we are all merry and bright.

ISSUE #2 Getting to know Ludlow’s swifts Paul the vinyl man St Leonard’s fallen tombstones Pint of Guinness with Douglas Gallon of facts about Ludlow Brewing Co Sandpit’s shoe-string pigeon loft Liz’s allotment antics Local youth speak out ludlowledger.com/archive

“We’re 150 years old”

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Public speaking, sheep shearing, sausage making

Young Farmers Club turns 70 text} Liz Hyder | images} Ludlow YFC – FARMING – Mention the words ‘Young Farmer’s Club’ to most people and they’ll immediately come up with a couple they know who met through one. This October, Ludlow’s very own Young Farmer’s Club marked its 70th anniversary with a celebratory event bringing together past and current members across the generations, at Ludlow Racecourse. Originally set up as a form of youth club for young farmers to meet socially and share farming experience, it seems remarkable that it’s still going strong in modern times. Yet today’s Ludlow YFC, one of 600 across Britain, has a higher number of members and offers more activities and events than ever. There’s clearly more to YFCs than an unofficial dating agency, so I met up with members past and present to find out what really goes on. Past members Tom Froggatt, Edward and Mary Mellings and Tim Brown, all now retired from the farming life, offer to meet up with me so I can find out more about the YFC in Ludlow in the early days, and the role it played in their lives. Over tea and coffee at Ludlow Brewery, the four of them – still all good friends – reminisce about their time in the YFC and about Phil Sanders, the man who set up Ludlow’s branch and someone they clearly had a lot of respect for. And yes, before you ask, Edward and Mary, happily married for many decades, did indeed first meet at the YFC. Back in the mid 1940s, with petrol rationed and cars prohibitively expensive, young post-war farmers often felt isolated on their farms – the YFC offered somewhere they could meet, discuss issues and best practice and, importantly, have fun with likeminded people. The Ludlow branch didn’t exactly get off to an auspicious start – I’m reliably informed that the first meeting in 1944 was called off when nobody turned up. Fortunately, the second meeting was more successful, enrolling 26 members and growing into one of the county’s most successful clubs. The Ludlow YFC, in its early days, met just once a month for fun and to organise trips to nearby farms to look at new technology and different methods of production – providing

you could cycle there on your own two wheels that is. “We had no TV,” says Tom, “we had to make our own entertainment and we had very little money.” He reveals that his first wage was £1.45 a week and, as he says with a grin, “you couldn’t do much with that. And that was the wage of me working in a bank, the farmers were on less. You’d have a job to buy a bike.” Membership then, as now, was a mix of farmers and non-farmers – from bank workers like Tom back in the 40s and 50s to today where the likes of vets, solicitors and nurses contribute to the mix. The YFC, with its affordable membership of just half a crown, allowed “a healthy split between fun, social events and educational activities” says Tom. As members, they were given a YFC badge which I notice Tim still proudly wears today. Later, we’re joined by a younger generation of members – William Watkins, Rob Whiteman and Neil Brown (Tim’s grandson) who turn up wearing YFC branded hoodies and t-shirts, the badge replaced long ago; it’s interesting to see that both past and present members proudly wear their membership on their sleeve. As farming has changed, so too has Ludlow’s YFC. Back in the 1950s, “on more remote farms” says Mary, “sometimes you didn’t see anyone other than family.” The club offered a lifeline. Tom and Edward giggle as they remember happy memories of tractor driving with a trailer through hay bales, with Edward puffing a pipe the entire time. They tell of glorious dances in Ludlow town hall, of Mrs Beeton’s legendary trifles that came in giant basins, of rallies and showgrounds and trips out to farms on pushbikes or, on the rare occasion they managed to commandeer a car, squashed in, nine to a single vehicle. Today, the loneliness of rural farming is still an issue – as farming has become more mechanised, fewer hands are employed at each farm. Tim recalls how, back in his day, 13 men used to be on hand for threshing – nowadays, Rob Whiteman, an ex-YFC member now in his 30s, can do the job with one and a combine harvester (although he jokes that he still needs 13 men to fix it when it goes wrong). Not long ago, his whole family (from his brother to his parents) were involved – on Rob’s

farm today it’s just him doing the legwork. Farming has stripped back the headcount of those employed and Rob argues that the YFC is, in many ways, more important than ever. And yes, he confesses with a grin that, funnily enough, he also met his wife through the YFC. Apart from the social element – clearly a strong draw for the club – members both past and present genuinely see the club as somewhere to develop existing skills and learn new ones. Public speaking, a much under-rated skill and rarely taught today, is positively encouraged at the YFC. Tom Froggatt remembers, decades ago, being rewarded with a much anticipated fish and chips supper for winning a public-speaking debate for the club up in Shrewsbury. Rob stresses that public speaking at the Ludlow YFC isn’t just about public debate but about everyday skills. “It gives you confidence and coherence. It means you can stand up anywhere and make your point,” he says, as eloquently and confidently as you’d expect. These days, Ludlow’s YFC meets weekly, a shift up in gear from the early days when they’d meet once a month Other skills and experiences on offer at Ludlow’s YFC range from organising events, playing sports, first aid and raising money for charity, to more traditional skills like judging livestock, sheep shearing, sausage making (I kid ye not) and ploughing marathons. In a highly competitive job market where every bit of experience counts, the YFC is viewed today as a crucial selling point on a CV. Current member, Will, reckons that he’ll have spent five nights out with the club in the week we meet, from meetings to social events. And there’s a friendly rivalry at play too – all the local YFCs compete against each other. “If you don’t beat anyone else, beat Craven Arms,” says Rob to guffaws of laughter. But surely there must be some scandal – after 70 years of dances, parties and meet-ups? Generations past and present pause and think for a moment. “Well,” says Tom, scratching his chin thoughtfully, “we used to drink and cycle but we had no money to get drunk back then... There wasn’t much smoking or beer – nothing very serious.” Rob, whose parents met through Ludlow YFC, laughs. “My parents said they’d have a cup of tea and biscuit at the dances.” He pauses. “Although, to be fair, Dad did say they’d drink as much in the pub as they could beforehand.” And today? “We do our very best to support local hostelries,” Neil deadpans as he raises his glass of beer. There is a brief mention of a ‘wild weekend’ in Blackpool for the national AGM but the younger members remain tightlipped about divulging further details. Seven decades since it first started,

Ludlow’s YFC is going strong – run by young people for young people – but did any of those early members really think it would still be going in 2014? “Oh yes,” says Mary, “there’s nothing political or religious about it, it’s an open, friendly club.” “I met a lot of people I’d never normally meet, older people, farmers and breeders,” adds her husband Edward. “I learnt a lot,” pipes up Tim and there’s a murmur of assent. “And friendship,” says Mary. “Absolutely, friendship,” agrees Edward. As members past and present gather up their belongings, it’s clear that they have all gained a lot from Ludlow YFC. When we met, the event at Ludlow Racecourse was still to happen and all of them were looking forward to the celebrations. With ex-members

returning to Ludlow from all over the country – from Suffolk to Scotland, Devon to Cornwall – I wondered how many couples would be there who first met at Ludlow’s YFC. It certainly sounded like it would be a night to remember, though, for some of those I met, their dancing days might have passed. “I’m not sure my legs will stand up to disco,” says Tom with a twinkle in his eye that suggests he well might be one of the last on the dance floor. So, crucially, will the Ludlow YFC still be going in another 70 years? Everyone around the table nods vigorously but the final word lies with Mary. “It’ll go on for years. There’s no reason for it not to.”

ISSUE #3 Ludlow’s golden boy of geology Glass sculpting Behind the scenes at Rickards London to Ludlow with Aubrey King-sized figures from the Furniture Scheme Organic living Holidaying in Borth Riding for the disabled Cath and Eileen talk about old Ludlow ludlowledger.com/archive

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To mark three years publishing Doghouse – the British pub magazine, we are proud to announce we are planning to revive our tiny brewing operation in Ludlow, as well as securing a semi-permenant site for our successful travelling public house Check website for updates...

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Picture caption: bottom right, p15} Gordon Sanders, Jeffery James, Lewis Morgan & John Pugh winning the County Tractor and Binder Competition, 1948

Camilla Lywood and Kati Burns

What do you do on your kitchen table? text} Mia Davis | images} Richard Stanton – PROFILE – Thinking of your kitchen table as a centre of industry, rather than somewhere that gets splattered with baked beans or a convenient assignation point for family squabbles, could be seen as a massive leap of the imagination. For others, however, the kitchen table has proved to be a thrifty and ingenious base for launching businesses that are now worth millions. Yet, whilst it’s easy enough for Innocent Smoothies and Emma Bridgewater to trip off the tongue as examples of household names who started out this way, is it really viable? Or is it just a mad fantasy perpetuated by the editors of Country Living magazine in order to sell the dream lifestyle of a rural idyll? Living the ‘good life’ and paying the bills by pressing cider or making goats cheese, is the dream of many, but really? How likely are you to make it as the rustic equivalent of Martha Lane Fox in Shropshire? Camilla Lywood is one such woman within our midst who has turned kitchen table dabbling into a successful industry from her own kitchen. As a result, her ‘What A Pickle’ business, producing and selling Carrot, Apricot and Coriander Relish, Tomato Chilli Jam, Red Onion Marmalade, and Red Pepper and Chilli Jam, has grown to be an enterprise which is now entirely self-supporting. Achieving this at the same time as being a single mother to three children could sound more like a recipe for disaster rather than tasty jars of pickle, but in just eight years, she has grown to supply hundreds of independent delicatessens and food retailers across the UK, along with a well-known supermarket and Whole Foods Market. On meeting Camilla outside Ludlow’s Cicchetti Bar, I expect to find a woman in a complete tizz, splattered in chutney, but Camilla’s pale trousers and poised demeanour put paid to that idea. Instead, she calmly explains that all production is now outsourced, and that her kitchen looks ‘quite normal’. So how did she do it? Getting started by buying tomatoes from Farmers Fruit and Veg in Ludlow, Camilla experimented with making savoury jams which, at the time, was a fairly novel idea. “A friend started off a deli delivery company and found that the pickle was one of her best products. As a result, I would make up a batch for her every week, because it was the one thing that everyone really liked to have in their order, until I became bold enough to approach actual retailers. So I started by stocking butchers in Tenbury and Bromyard, and they sold very well.” So far, so good. However, as Camilla became more adventurous and introduced a couple of other varieties, her kitchen had become such a steaming, bubbling brew of intoxicating smells that her children were going to school trailing the whiff of pickle production in their wake. “I was making loads and loads at home, but it became a bit of a joke. The children were going into school stinking of boiled onions and tomatoes and fish sauce. My daughter’s name is Tilly, and it got to the point where the teachers would say, ‘Here comes Chilli’ instead.” Realising she had reached a turning point, Camilla then had to think seriously about where to go next. “I got to the position where I couldn’t keep up with what I needed to produce, despite working every hour in the day. So I started to think – could it be run more efficiently? And I had to decide about whether I should put in my own production facilities. That was the moment when I realised it

was starting to get quite serious. It was then that I came up with the idea of finding someone else to produce it for me and avoid the risk of investing capital in equipment.” Production was outsourced first to the Food Centre kitchens, then Tenbury, leaving Camilla in the position to concentrate on growing her independent retail stockists. It was at this point that ‘What A Pickle’ proved to be so popular that, although she had no ambitions to supply supermarkets, they literally knocked on her door asking to stock the chilli jam. Although wary about becoming involved with supermarkets, she saw it as an opportunity too good to turn down in terms of business, and so agreed to come up with a version for the supermarket that would be easier to produce in large quantities. Proud of her allegiance to the independents however, there are no plans for supermarket saturation. “My independent market is one hundred per cent my main focus. It always will be. And I’m aware that supermarkets are very fickle. They can very easily turn around and tell you that they won’t be stocking your product any more. Independents on the other hand, will generally have you forever if the product is selling well.” Camilla’s success then, is surely good news for any wannabe entrepreneurs, but for those who are just starting out, the journey from kitchen table to self-supporting business can seem vast. Kati Cooper is one such woman grappling with the problem. In fact, ‘I Just Don’t Know How She Does It’ could be better expressed as ‘How is She Still Alive?’ As exhausting to write as it is to contemplate, Kati juggles a corporate HR Consultancy job in London, a home in Ashford Carbonell, a husband, a four-year-old son, several sheep, one dog and a puppy, two cats, around fifty chickens, and Marmite the pony, along with three acres and a massive vegetable plot, whilst also trying to grow two kitchen-table businesses. Having achieved some early success with her Tree House Kitchen jam business and a Ryeland-sheep enterprise, presently consisting of her sheep and five bags full of very fine fleece, the biggest problem for Kati is combining the demands of a five-tonine job (not a typo), at the same time as trying to invest time in her sheep and her jam. I met her on a Sunday afternoon at her home where she was manically chopping down trees with husband Dan. Kati explained their reasoning: “Sitting in our terraced house in Manchester ten years ago, reading John Seymour’s Self Sufficiency, this is what we dreamed of doing. At the time, we didn’t think we would still have to work; we came into it thinking we could give up our full time jobs – but the reality is different. Having bought the house and land, and fallen in love with Ryeland sheep, we’ve realised it’s important to slowly build the ventures, at the same time as working the corporate jobs, knowing that we aren’t sacrificing anything. I always wanted to have little ventures that would supplement our main income, so I could ease up on my corporate life. So I looked at the things I could do that would supplement our main income, and eventually perhaps enable me to take my foot off the work accelerator.” Dividing time between work in London, a smallholding and a family in Shropshire might not be the most ideal scenario for many people, but the reality for Kati is that her job supports her in being able to cultivate her real passions. As with most new businesses, The Tree House Kitchen came about as a result of an enthusiastic hobby, along with an excess of vegetables in the

garden. “I’ve always made chutney and jam. I used to give it to friends and family at Christmas, and a friend of mine suggested I sell it. So I just set up a Facebook page last November and have had orders from customers from all over the place.” The Ryeland-sheep business, however, is slightly more complicated. Kati’s original intention was for the sheep to keep the grass down and to slaughter the lambs for their meat. The problem this year, is that they have only had one surviving lamb; another possible problem is that she has given Sandra, Sybil, Susannah, Trevor, Stanley, Tiffany and Lady Penelope names and she delivered the lamb (Percy) herself. “Sentimentality is a disaster. I think I will be ok, eventually, about killing the sheep, but at the moment I’m not quite there.” So how did Kati metamorphose from living in a terraced house in Manchester to shepherdess and sheep-birthing partner? Revealing that all of her knowledge of the animals comes from a book called Practical Sheep Keeping, she commented that she was confident that she knew what to do. “I was lying in my sleeping bag in the garage where the ewes were penned, and I was reading the lambing chapter. So when Percy was born I had a good idea of how to manage. Although it took 20 minutes to pull him out, it was just amazing.” So, although the intention had been to send Percy for slaughter, Kati’s lamb-bonding experience led her to reconsider her plans for the sheep and switch to wool. Fortunately, as one of the oldest breeds of sheep in existence, Ryeland’s were traditionally bred for both their meat and wool, and their wool is considered only one step down from merino. Once sheared (hopefully not from instructions in Practical Sheep Keeping) the fleece was taken to a mill in Derby, set up especially for small holders who only want to process small amounts. The result is beautiful skeins of undyed, natural wool in rich earthy colours, worth around £10 per ball. There are plans (eventually) for manufacturing natural-fibre country clothing made from Ryeland wool. Although there is much potential for both the Ryeland business and The Tree House Kitchen, Kati’s biggest hurdle at the moment is the balance of time, especially when she freely

admits that what she makes is nothing compared to what she can earn in London per day so, for the moment, it’s a price she will have to pay until she reaches a situation from which she can make the leap. And, when it comes down to it, it’s a pragmatic approach to growing a business, especially bearing in mind that businesses begun at home are more likely to succeed when started as a sideline, especially in a difficult economic climate. What about the contribution of small businesses to Ludlow’s local economy? Kati sees this element as a very positive part of the plan. “With the jam for example, I’m buying the raspberries from Kirkenel Orchards, and Tracey Stone from Pykefield Signs does my signage and logos. You have to use local suppliers. I could use someone online or order frozen raspberries from Asda, but that’s not the point. It’s the ethos of living here. Everything I earn from the business or am paying out is going into a ten-mile radius of where I live. That’s important to me.” To return to the six-million-dollar question then: What is the actual viability of kitchen-table businesses? This seems to depend on a good product, hard work, personal goals, and a sprinkling of luck. Camilla’s answer is to “grow it like a child. You basically make one jar of jam, you sell it, then you use the profit to make two jars of jam. That sounds simplistic, but it works.” On the other hand if, like Kati, you want to run your kitchen-table start-up alongside an existing job as a slow-burner, then that’s possible too. “At the moment it’s a lifestyle choice,” says Kati. “We could make it easier by renting some land for the sheep and living in a flat, but why bother? To carry on working and be able to live here with so many options for making a living from our land, means that, ultimately, we can have a lot more fun and live our lives our way.” Which nicely sums up the entire nature of a kitchen-table venture – how far you want to take it depends very much on your focus. If you feel inspired, there’s only one way to start – clear off that kitchen table and get busy. It could be profitable, just a lot of fun, or maybe both. It really depends on what you want to do.

Top and middle: Kati’s Treehouse Kitchen: Oak Tree House, Ashford Carbonel, Ludlow, SY8 4LD; Bottom and previous: Camilla’s What A Pickle: Whitbatch Farmhouse, Whitbatch, Ludlow, SY8 3DU

This issue in facts

page 5 in England during 2011-12, there were almost 2,000 hospital admissions as a result of pleurisy, though the total number of cases is likely to be significantly higher as people with pleurisy often do not seek treatment. Pleurisy can affect people of all ages, but older people (65 years of age or older) are most at risk because they are more likely to develop a chest infection. The most common symptom of pleurisy is a sharp chest pain that feels worse with breathing; other symptoms include shortness of breath and a dry cough.

page 11

Woofferton railway station was a station and railway junction near Woofferton (just south of Ludlow) where the Tenbury and Bewdley Railway joined the Shrewsbury and Hereford Railway. The station opened on 6th December, 1853 and closed on 31st July, 1961. Woofferton is also known for its transmitting station (pictured) – the last remaining UK shortwave broadcasting site – which was built by the BBC during World War II to house additional shortwave broadcasting transmitters.

page 15

You don’t need to be involved in farming to be a Young Farmer – just someone who appreciates the countryside and enjoys rural life. If you would like more information about joining your nearest Young Farmers’ Club, visit: nfyfc.org.uk/joinus

page 18

The Ryeland is one of the oldest English sheep breeds, going back seven centuries when the monks of Leominster bred sheep and grazed them on the rye pastures – giving them their name. Queen Elizabeth I was given ‘Lemster’ wool stockings and liked them so much that, from then on, she insisted on ‘Lemster’ Ryeland wool.

page 20

Following his death at Ludlow Castle, the bowels (euphemistically known as ‘the heart’) of Arthur, Prince of Wales, son of Henry VII and older brother of Henry VIII, were buried in a lead box in the choir of St Laurence’s church. Admiral James Vashon is also buried at St Laurence’s as, too, are the ashes of the poet A E Housman.

page 24

Ivory Dominoes were routinely used in 19th century rural England in the settling of disputes over traditional grazing boundaries, and were commonly referred to as ‘bonesticks’.

Ron’s month off school for Richard III

Playing Edward V in Ludlow, 1968

Doghouse the British pub magazine

text} Ron Powell | image} Salopianbooks.co.uk – EVENTS – In June 1968, at the age of 13, I was one of five local schoolboys chosen to take part in the Ludlow Festival production of Richard III. I was to play Edward V, the elder of the two ‘Princes in the Tower’, murdered (in Shakespeare’s version, if not in real life) by their wicked Uncle Richard. At that time, the Shakespearean play was very much the centrepiece of the Festival fortnight. The setting (in the inner courtyard of the castle alongside the Norman chapel) was tremendously atmospheric, especially at night. I’m sure it was one of the major factors in attracting a prestigious list of directors and actors over the years, not to mention 1500 people to each of the two, daily performances. I remember the whole process with great fondness. In 1968, the director was Joan Knight. I’d never met anyone like her, a stereotypical theatrical luvvie (darling this and darling that) and the first woman I’d ever seen smoking cigars. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen many since. Richard III was played by the major draw, Alfred Lynch. Alfie had appeared in films such as On The Fiddle (alongside Sean Connery) and 55 Days in Peking (alongside Charlton Heston) but, at the time, he was most famous for television dramas such as Hereward The Wake, and Manhunt, in which he played a Royal Air Force pilot trying to escape from Second World War France. Other actors, relatively famous at the time, included Michael Graham Cox (the voice of Boromir in both the BBC Radio adaptation and animated film of Lord of the Rings); Valerie Lush (Auntie Flo in And Mother Makes Three alongside Wendy Craig); Heather Stoney (Z Cars and Softly Softly); and Ronald Herdman, a delightful man who dubbed me Little Ron to his Big Ron. Many years later, he played a vicar in a moderately successful film called Four Weddings and a Funeral. With rehearsals, the other four child actors and I had a month off school. It was great. David Cadwallader, who still lives in the town, played my younger brother, the Duke of York. At that age Dave was the archetypal cheeky chappy and, given the chance, he could have beaten Jack Wilde to the part of the Artful Dodger in Oliver; although, like me, I think the Festival was the high point of his acting career.

Dave and I became firm friends, but he was a terror. During our major scene together, I noticed that he walked on stage waving his right hand in a small circle, an affectation brought on by nerves – I made the mistake of pointing it out. During the next performance, he pursed his lips and accentuated the hand action into a camp sashay. We collapsed in fits of giggles, not very professional in front of 1500 paying customers. Thankfully, he never did it again, but for the rest of the run, we were always on the verge of laughter. The production was performed in the open air and so was at the mercy of the British summer weather – something that led to many cancelled performances over the years and ultimately, in 2012, led to the demise of the play as the centrepiece of the Arts Festival. A sad loss. I don’t think we missed a performance in 1968, but there were occasions when we were very wet. I remember one especially – in the final scene of the play, the body of Richard III (who was killed at the Battle of Bosworth Field) was left on the stage whilst the Earl of Richmond (by then Henry VII) made a victory speech. Alfie Lynch had to lie there, perfectly still, throughout a very long speech. One very wet afternoon, Alfie, who was already suffering from a heavy cold, fell to the stage in a large puddle. It continued to pour down and the puddle grew and grew, until, halfway through Richmond’s speech, the dead king rose from the stage, turned his bedraggled head to the audience and, with the words “Enough is enough,” stomped off. Again, not very professional, but it raised the biggest laugh of the production and was something the audience that afternoon would never forget. I wonder if they, like I, thought of that moment when Richard III’s body was discovered under that car park in Leicester. He must have been covered by a lot of puddles since ending up there. Like all good things, my moment in the spotlight came to an end, but it finished on a suitably theatrical high. At two o’clock in the morning, after a magnificent party, the whole cast and crew met under the castle battlements in front of the cannon, and performed the Hokey Cokey. Marvellous!

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Image (p19) of Gerry Davey at Woofferton’s Control Room} taken by Jeff Cant: January 25th 1977

– COVER STORY – < continued from the front page Taking some 10,000 hours to master, Shaun gave his first professional concert when he was 17. But you don’t stop, he tells me. “I still have piano lessons now.... You have to keep your hand in.” But that seems easier said than done, to my untrained eye, as Shaun addresses St Laurence’s confusing organ console of rosewood, oak, beech and mahogany, and performs a rendition of the theme from Dr Who: “It works brilliantly, doesn’t it, with that repetitive rhythm in the bass part, and those big chords.” Working the brass, ivory and cow heel bone (250 keys and pedals in total) it’s musical complexity at its height, as Shaun trains his feet to do something different to his hands – sometimes playing with both feet, and both hands too. A tour of the John Snetzler-built organ itself involves heading down a narrow walkway, with one of the church’s ancient walls on one side and, looming up on the left as far as you can see, the largest machine in Ludlow – built in 1764 and paid for by the, then, Earl of Powys. It was originally on the screen under the main tower – which makes you wonder: how on earth did they move it in 1860 to its present position in the North Transept – all 15 tons of it? The previous instrument was destroyed by order of Oliver Cromwell; during the Commonwealth, in 1649, he decreed that all organs should be destroyed. “People literally walked into the churches, ripped the organs out and walked through the streets blowing the pipes.” How the present organ survived as it is today, is a total opposite to the wealth that first provided the town with this musical statement – it fell into disrepair and, therefore, remained untouched from the 1860s to the 1980s, by which time it was fairly unplayable. “That’s part of its charm; that there was no money. It’s the same with the church, the timber, the stained glass – it survived because Ludlow had a financial depression.” Clamber up a small set of hardworn wooden steps and the door of the largest organ in the county opens, with a sturdy wooden beam cutting the doorway in half. Facing that narrow

entrance the photographer and I tucked our stomachs in and slithered on to the first-floor belly of this beast, causing a level of panic as my coat-tail brushed dangerously close to a cluster of pipes (circa 1764) made of lead, zinc, brass and pine. We were politely asked to watch our backsides and we climbed up a very steep set of steps on to another level. The warnings continued, and rightly so, with around £1.3million wrapped up in this magnificent machine, rebuilt by Gray & Davidson in 1860. We were surrounded by around 4,000 pipes in total, with the biggest of them all reaching 20 feet in height, and around a foot and a bit in width (as a point of comparison, the smallest stands just 10mm high by 4mm wide). As we stood, admiring the many metres of felt and leather, and miles of copper cabling, the air was suddenly shocked out of me as the organ burst into life below. Shaun invited former student Thomas Heakin to continue with a few chords, to demonstrate the vocal range of pipes, while Shaun sat smack in the middle of this landscape of trumpets, telling one story after another: “I love it when I have to open something like a business account for the church, and it says ‘when was your organisation founded? ’ And you put 1199. It really puts the whole thing into context.” Up a further agonisingly steep set of steps, at the very front of the machine, we faced the back of the triumphantly vertical pipes (38 at a rough count) and were able to explore them up close within their 24-carat gold covers. And then back down – we carefully shuffled under beams, around vertical supports (again without touching any one of the pipes), through the engine room and down the old wooden steps to ground level. At the back of the organ, in the far left corner amidst a tumble of flower arrangements, a mop and broom, there is an old fireman’s ladder that goes up, at an alarming angle, to the very top corner of the church – its tip was dancing on the old stonework as we very steadily put one foot above another to reach the top platform. Looking down over the Swiss-built organ as a whole, is a privilege; one which, I’m sure, is rarely granted (we’re probably not covered by insurance, and wouldn’t stand much of a chance if we

missed our footing and fell back down to the flagstone floor). Up there, surveying the land, Shaun talks just as much about the future as the remarkable preservation of the past, which is all around us. “We’ve got real aspirations this next year, to carry on with our green energy project, and install solar panels and bio-mass boilers, but people keep telling us that we’ve got to try and hide them. Why have we got to try and hide the solar panels? As a nation we have to embrace green energy. We should be shouting from the rooftops that we are doing this. You can’t have energy without paying a price. If you can see the solar panels, so what?” It’s a good a time as any to broach the subject of change – considering the plans afoot to enhance the building with an altered floor plan, a more flexible seating arrangement, and a revised approach to the church as a coherent community space. But not everyone’s on side. “We’ve still got some work to do, convincing the Victorian Society for starters, but they need to understand that this building has always grown; always changed so, given a fair wind, in three years’ time, we could be sat in a building that is totally transformed.” I find it genuinely exciting that one could, potentially, reinvent the church’s space, to accommodate a pop-up restaurant perhaps, a semipermanent stage for concerts of all styles, and maybe (if Ludlow Festival does make another comeback) hosting some dramatic theatre in here, in the dry. But, above all, I’m most intrigued about how well this building tells the story of the town, in one way or another; a building that is still used for its original purpose, all these years on – which is what makes it so unique. And talking of unique: “Ludlow has enormous opportunities that many market towns simply don’t, because there are so many people here willing to give their time; so it can achieve wonderful things. But it’s still rooted in what it is, which is a small market town. I love, when I’m in London, getting lost in the city, but I also love walking into the Rose & Crown and Paul saying: ‘Mr Ward, your usual I presume?’ That’s what it is all about.”

Shaun is the 52nd organist of St Laurence’s since 1492. The 15ton Organ stands at 59ft high, 39ft deep, 26ft wide, with over 4000 pipes

Obituary Aubrey

Rice cakes and strawberries to the rescue

Orleton school’s snack attack text} Joanne Roach | image} Richard Stanton – EDUCATION –

THE first thing Aubrey ever said to me, as I stood at the bar of the Church Inn, was: “Love the suit - shame about the shoes.” A day or two later, he walked up to my girlfriend saying: “Wow: if he ever decides to leave you, just you let me know.” With a wink he later brought over a sample of beer he thought that I may like. Over time we learnt more about one another, with small samples of beer making way to full pints, and whatever else Aubrey thought may interest me – be it books, magazines, photos of old, introductions to certain people, or trips to pubs. I think he did much the same for many other people, whether they too drank as regulars in the Church, the Nelson, the Queens or the Charlton Arms, or in and out as passing trade. This kindness – without bias – wit and humour much the same, worked systematically with a genuine blend of sense and guidance. On April 29th – four days after issue 1 of this paper was dished around town – Aubrey addressed a postcard, for the attention of Ludlow Ledger c/o The Church Inn, on which he wrote: “Congratulations! Interesting corners of current activities. Good humoured journalism. At times revealing ‘not a lot of people know that’. Power (with enjoyment) to the pen.” I shall continually imagine such pointers and praise, with each passing endeavour, as I will his impromptu tap dancing, his animated delight at a good tasting beer, and the cold felt from his hands – insistent, as he was to prove them upon you; his honed American accent at times too. Aubrey seldom sensationalised his family affairs, as he did his time on and off the silver screen and, indeed as a 45 Commando Royal Marine, so it seems quite telling that, unlike his fulsome life, Aubrey’s resting was marked with a quiet family gathering. As far as I know: no actor chums, no jazz players, no salutes from fellow soldiers. But that’s not to say that they haven’t since celebrated Aubrey’s life in their own special way: Richard Gere, perhaps, throwing a dart in his memory, down Ye Olde King’s Head?

In a world of permanent global summertime, where you can buy a staggering array of foods from all over the world, all year round, you might be forgiven for assuming that children must have a more varied and interesting diet than at any time in history. And for some children this is undoubtedly true. But for many children (and adults) the dinner plate holds an illusion of variety rather than the real thing. Children often eat different versions of the same small numbers of foods over and over again. Look at the children’s menu in five different restaurants and you’ll see a surprising overlap with the same meals turning up everywhere. Look in a school full of lunchboxes and you’ll be amazed by how small the range of foods are across hundreds of households. In some ways this is not surprising. Many children are naturally suspicious of new foods – a reflex we evolved to spare us from eating poisonous wild food. Left to their own devices, a large proportion of children would stick to a few familiar favourites for every meal and would shun new tastes. But a life without variety, especially in food, is a life without colour, texture and surprise, and it is the role of adults to help children to see how exciting their life can be if they have an open and adventurous attitude to food. One local school, Orleton C of E Primary School, has translated this duty to inspire and delight children’s tastebuds into a new venture – their “Pick and Mix Healthy Tuck Shop”. Started as a twice-weekly pilot after Easter this year, it has now become a daily affair at the school and over half the children snaffle up one of the exciting snacks every day. The Pick and Mix Tuck Shop aims to tempt children to experiment with new tastes in a positive and encouraging way by providing three foods each day in interesting combinations, and then supporting children to try tiny bites of new foods. The Tuck Shop runs every morning break for around fifteen minutes. The food is prepared by an adult but served entirely by Class Five students who work on a rota. The project was set up by the previous year’s Class Five with the support of a parent from the school, Joanne Thorley and the Foodies website. They brought in two children’s entrepreneurship trainers, Jodie and Ben Cook from Clever

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Tykes, to teach the children all about setting up a business. The children undertook market research with the other classes, developed a marketing plan, created some branding, and launched the Tuck Shop to parents and children in May. The current Class Five are now picking up the baton and developing the service further, adding weekly pre-payment, learning all about customer service and investigating local and seasonal sources of foods to offer. The focus is very much on variety and experimentation. Each day the Tuck Shop provides a starchy food, a protein-based food, and a fruit or vegetable, which can be combined into a snack of any two or all three items. So on Monday you might be offered half an English muffin, a little ham and some slices of cucumber, on Tuesday you could choose rice cakes, vanilla yoghurt and raspberries and on Wednesday a cone of popcorn with raisins and pumpkin seeds. Children might only choose two of the items in any combination they like, although most children plump for all three. But here’s the catch: children can’t just ask for one item, which means that on most days a good handful of children have to select something unfamiliar or previously disliked. They are allowed to start with the smallest nibble of the new food, but they can’t just fall back on a single old favourite. This is handled in a warm and encouraging way which has resulted in many children discovering new flavours that they had no idea they would like. Nine-year-old Alex Baxter agrees: “I think the Tuck Shop is great because it’s getting loads of children into the idea of buying healthy food. And children are always trying new foods, which is really good. Plus it’s brilliant that us children get to run it. My favourite snack so far was the tortilla wraps with cream cheese and strawberries.” Although it is still developing, the Tuck Shop is a great success. The school sent out a questionnaire to parents after the pilot. “The feedback from parents was very encouraging,” says Headteacher Adam Breakwell. “Over half the parents reported that their child had either tried something new or had come home exclaiming that they liked a surprising food. Several parents commented that the Tuck Shop had changed the way their children ate at home – asking for healthier snack choices after school and showing more willingness to eat

fruits and vegetables. It’s great to be able to support parents with their children’s health in a fun and positive way.” The price of the snacks is deliberately low – two items costs 20 pence and all three items cost 30 pence – because the school believes it is critical to keep the snacks affordable to everyone, and also to be able to compete with the price of less healthy but cheap snacks, such as multibag crisps or multipack chocolate bars. Over time, the school hopes to be able to discourage such junk food being brought into school, but it is very important that there should be a viable and affordable alternative available on site. As with any food the school serves, the Tuck Shop choices have to comply with national standards for healthy school food. And portions are modest to leave room for free fruit or milk and to ensure children are hungry when the school’s delicious homecooked school dinners are served. The Pick and Mix Tuck Shop is just one of the ways that Orleton School

engages children with their food. Each class grows, harvests and eats a different fruit or vegetable each year, and children regularly cook or sample foods in class, linking food into other subjects such as geography, maths or science. And the school is building on the children’s new enthusiasm for trying new tastes, by sending cooking and growing ideas home to parents. “It’s all about encouraging a spirit of adventure,” says Joanne Thorley. “It is easy these days for parents to focus on what children shouldn’t be eating and for the children to get drawn into a lifetime of categorising foods into Good and Bad, which can be a very negative way to approach something that should be a pleasurable part of life. But the simple fact is that if your plate is crammed with lots of different foods from every food group, it is much harder to eat unhealthy levels of poor-quality food. Being adventurous with food is a good way to stay healthy, and it makes life more interesting too.”

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Text on front cover and p20} Jon Saxon; images} Richard Stanton | Aubrey Weller’s portrait, p21} Richard Stanton

Ludlow’s Marmite chef: Martyn Emsen

A taste of things to come and gone text} Mia Davis

– FINDING LUDLOW – Until very recently, Ludlow was strangely devoid of one of the world’s most popular cuisines. Although a small town with a big reputation for food, anyone seeking authentic Italian carpaccio, antipasti or grappa would have had more luck 30 miles away in Shrewsbury or Hereford. Happily, just as it’s typical to wait hours for a bus before they all turn up at once; the situation has now been resolved with the opening of one Mediterranean and two new Italian eateries within the last few months. Aside from the existing Pizza kitchen at the Marches, the all new Pizza Ten, The Smokehouse Deli and Cicchetti Bar and, more recently, Wildwood, have made it possible to enjoy the food of La Dolce Vita here in Ludlow – fountains, scooters and sunshine excepted, of course. Thanks to the quality of the food, quirky interior and the presence of larger-than-life owner, Martyn Emsen, it is the Cicchetti Deli and Bar which has, perhaps, caused the greatest stir. Brimming with a capacious array of Italian food sourced directly from Italy itself, the compact interior of The Smokehouse Deli and Cicchetti Bar offers, for those unfamiliar with Italian cuisine, cicchetti – small snacks or side dishes, typically served in traditional ‘bàcari’ bars in Venice; an Italian version of tapas, if you like. Yet, whilst Martyn has excelled in plates of bite-sized cicchetti deliciousness, the best coffee this side of Venice, tantalising cannoli pastries, insalata and antipasti, not only has his eatery helped transform the town’s existing choices, but his uncompromising personality and controversial views seem also to have caused something of a commotion. As Martyn freely admits, “I’m the Marmite chef. You either love me or hate me.” For those unfamiliar with his character, the ethos of the restaurant – small plates, big conversations – could easily describe the man himself. Martyn is straight talking, uncompromising and swears quite a lot, so it’s not hard to see how his outspoken views, wry sense of humour and colourful vocabulary could be open to misinterpretation. Gordon Ramsey would probably be a fan but, in the small town of Ludlow, Martyn’s business, demeanour and opinions haven’t been welcomed by everybody. Martyn is well known and admired from his 12 years running the excellent Jolly Frog in Leintwardine, but the reception to his Cicchetti Bar hasn’t been overwhelmingly positive and he has found it quite different to doing business in rural Leintwardine. Although many of the objections to the business seem unfocused and perhaps more to do with challenging a traditional ‘tea, scone and doily’ type mentality, much of the rancour appears to have been directed at the tables and chairs he has placed on the street outside, despite the fact that he is fully licensed to do so. Incredibly, Martyn relates incidents where disgruntled locals have objected so violently to his venture, that they have done everything from shout “I hope your business fails” across the street at him, to throwing the chairs and tables into the road. The council too, seemed unconvinced about the business. “We really had to fight for this. We had to fight for the licence, for the tables and chairs outside. We had objections to everything. We wanted to use the little garden at the back for sitting, but we had to relinquish that idea in order to get permission for the other things.” However, Martyn remains philosophical. “It’s not just us.

Everyone in Ludlow gets this type of thing. On the plus side we’ve met some fantastic people and had a lot of support. Our base customers have been brilliant.” So what exactly does Martyn think are the reasons for some of this extraordinary behaviour? As his opponents aren’t other businesses, what could possibly be the problem with opening an Italian bar? “They just don’t want Ludlow to change. I’ve had people saying to me, ‘I might as well move down South.’ So I just tell them to crack on. I don’t argue anymore, I’ve had to calm down. You could say, what are they trying to protect? Do they want an empty town full of charity shops? Because that’s what they nearly had before.” Yet Martyn does see Ludlow changing – and for the better. Indeed, one of his more controversial views is the fact that Ludlow’s reputation as a foodie capital has, until the last few months, been undeserved. “We had Shaun Hill, who was brilliant, and Hibiscus for a while. But that was about it. The new places here, such as Pizza Ten, Harp Lane Deli, Bistro Seven, Wildwood, the new Charlton Arms and The Fish House mean that, finally, Ludlow is growing the reputation it’s always professed to have. Finally, Ludlow is becoming what it has always professed to be.” So how did Martyn end up attempting the Dolce Vita in Ludlow? Having worked all over the world and with a long career in the food and drink industry behind him, he has come back to his roots. In 2000 Martyn bought The Jolly Frog in Leintwardine, which at the time was called The Cottagers Comfort. It was here that he sealed his reputation for local culinary excellence, with a menu based mostly around fish. After selling The Jolly Frog at the right time, Martyn set up The Ludlow Traditional Smokehouse, smoking fine quality foods to perfection, until deciding he needed a new venture to get his teeth into. “We’ve holidayed in Italy a lot, and love the whole family thing, the big table. We wanted to do aperitifs, so you come along for a drink after work and get free food, then shut about 8, just as they do in Italy. That was the thinking behind this.” Aside from the objectors and the problems with the tables and chairs, the quality of the food and drink at the Cicchetti Deli and Bar is beyond doubt. Be warned however, fish and chips are famously not on the menu, thanks to an unfortunate review on TripAdvisor which added fuel to the fire about Martyn’s manner. All is revealed, however, when Martyn explains that the incident in which he told the TripAdvisor complainant to “f––k off”, after an innocent request for fish and chips, was actually a case of crossed wires. “Only the previous day, someone had asked me for fish and chips, which we obviously don’t do. So when only a short time later I was asked again, I thought it was someone just joking and taking the piss.” So that clears that up then – for the record, it’s probably best not to ask. Fortunately, Martyn’s occasional gruffness belies a wicked sense of humour and surprising diffidence. Rather than wanting this article to be concentrated on the bar, for instance, he was eager to make the point that his concern is largely for Ludlow as a whole, and those who have a problem with change can just get on with it. On the opening of Wildwood for instance, he is full of praise. “They’ve had to fight as well, so just having them here makes a difference. Even though they’re doing a lot of things we’re doing, they need the credit for having a go. Anything that brings people into

CANNON – Ludlow town garage conceals working Civil War field gun, owned by Sealed Knot’s Charles this end of the town is good.” His position, then, on the proposed new out-of-town supermarket is also unexpected; far from erupting with indignation, he holds mixed views. “We have to face the fact there are more people in Ludlow now, and Tesco didn’t affect trade despite the fears. On the other hand, we may all struggle. We do have to protect the independents here. It’s tricky. But at least there would be somewhere to f–––––g park.” Again, the supermarket is a contentious issue, but he makes some good points. A new supermarket could well prove to be a storm in a tea cup. Although Ludlow now sports a Tesco, there is still a strong trade at the independent food retailers. Will devotees of the independent shops in Ludlow really take to buying their cheese elsewhere? The unique charm and character of Ludlow is precious, yes, and must be preserved, but it could also be seen as a case of adapt or die. Treading a line between ruination and development in a place as historically appealing as Ludlow isn’t always easy, but moving with the times could also be seen as necessary for breathing fresh life into the town. As Martyn puts it, “Everyone’s got something to say. But if places don’t progress, what are they going to be?” So how does he see the Cicchetti Bar itself progressing? “We’re aiming to stay open later, and possibly open another one elsewhere. In Shrewsbury possibly.” This is certain to be good news for the residents of Shrewsbury – provided, of course, that they have no objections to tables and chairs.

What’s your Ludlow story? What was it like growing up in Ludlow? How did you end up here? What do you feel needs addressing in this town? Or perhaps an amusing story, whether old or new?

Please send your letters and emails to} Ludlow Ledger, Hillkroft, Bromfield Road, Ludlow, Shropshire, SY8 1DW editor@ludlowledger.co.uk

From design to distribution

Publishing the stats of Ludlow Ledger text} Jon Saxon

– FACTS & FIGURES –

Gerard’s Regiment: this replica gun weighs three quarters of a tonne and operates on a shotgun licence

Ludlow Ledger was conceived on on an Arriva Trains Wales carriage; heading back from Liverpool with photographer Richard Stanton, on January 8th 2014, after a few days in the city, working on edition six of Doghouse – the British pub magazine. What started as an exercise in timewasting, turned into a spoof-event poster campaign to generate a bit of PR for both Richard and I. Between the stations of Church Stretton and Ludlow, it was decided to have a go at producing a newspaper. The first draft was sketched out on January 11th and proposed as a mini newspaper (180mm x 260mm on 60gsm stock), before plumping for a traditional tabloid format. Very little has changed from the original layouts, other than Richard’s suggestion of framing the images with a thick black outline; inspired by the Scottish Herald. Another change was switching the front cover from being predominantly image only, to including a centrallyjustified, three-column format, subtly inspired by The Telegraph’s gardening supplement. Text columns of issues 1 to 3 were 49mm in width, admired in fellow independent paper, Drawbridge. The fonts used are Arial and Times which (along with the uniformed story-header boxes) were lifted from one of my in-house motoring titles, called Keep Your Distance, which was developed yet shelved in March 2012. Ludlow Ledger was chosen as a working title for the 16-page dummy copy, until a proper name could be decided on. Printed on January 28th it was showcased at Ludlow’s Eclectic Sofa (hosted at The Sitting Room) where its title was praised. Organiser Dulcie Fulton offered to letter-press the masthead on a 1950s Vandercook cylinder press with traditional letter

blocks – helping the paper’s identity. Ludlow Ledger is delivered on a pallet wrapped in bundles of 100. The total stack of papers, minus pallet and plastic, weighs roughly 990kg. The first issue was printed on traditional newsprint, with subsequent issues printed on 52gsm improved newsprint, which is 100 percent recycled and also much brighter – offering greater clarity. The previous three issues of Ludlow Ledger have been printed in Peterborough on a traditional, web-offset printing press by The Newspaper Club. From this issue our printing affairs are being handled by the Guardian Print Centre North, based in Manchester... with Ludlow Ledger being bolted on to an evening’s run of the Guardian and Observer, on the only MAN Colorman press in the UK, worth £80m. It is also worth mentioning that Ludlow Ledger has grown considerably in words: 15,658 (issue 1), 17,327 (issue 2), 19,589 (issue 3); this issue contains a total of 26,220 words. To retain our strong use of photography, whilst growing in the written-word (without the expense of extra pages), the decision was made to repackage this paper as a 470mm x 315mm Berliner – unique to the Guardian presses and midway between a tabloid and a broadsheet. Print has increased too, from 9,450 to 10,000 copies; this will increase again in 2015. Ludlow Ledger is produced in an office on Ludlow’s Bromfield Road, under the banner of Son of Saxon, and is wholly reliant on advertising: each issue currently costs £2,670 to produce (around 27p per copy) which covers commissions, print and distribution to 55 outlets in and around Ludlow. Distribution takes 4 hours – with just under 2 hours taken up with driving over 40 miles.

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Our darts league has disappeared, but dominoes seem determined to stay

Why not join the dots? text} Mia Davis | image} Richard Stanton

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– SPORT – As the world’s least likely sports correspondent, my knowledge of the game of dominoes is limited to having played the picture version with my son, some 15 years ago, so I have absolutely no idea what to expect of the Ludlow Dominoes League. As it seems unlikely that they’re trying to match two ladybirds and a zebra with their pieces, it’s with some curiosity that I take myself along to the Rose & Crown, on a Tuesday evening, to meet the League. Greeted by Marion (Ludlow Dominoes League organiser, passionate player and undisputed champion of organisation), I note a patchwork of green baize boards on the tables and wooden-peg scoring apparatus, set against a loud soundtrack of riffling pieces. Above the clatter, I manage to establish that tonight they are playing against the Rose and Crown in a semi-final. And what’s happening on the boards looks complex. “Oh it is, it is,” agrees Marion, “there’s a lot to it.” So, without much optimism of my being able to comprehend the complex rules of dominoes, I start with questions about the venue. “We normally play at the Burway Bowling Club,” Marion explains. “At the moment, though, we’ve got two teams at the Bull Ring Tavern, normally meeting on a Thursday. We also play at The Swan, and at The Castle in Richards Castle. The Ludlow Club in Tower Street have a team, as well as the Rose and Crown. In winter, The Wheatsheaf and Queens Head also join in.” So far, so good then. Marion continues: “In the past, each pub had a team, but not anymore. Back in the Seventies and Eighties dominoes in Ludlow was popular, but it’s dying now as we don’t have the youngsters coming through like we used to. Every year there are fewer teams, and you

wonder how many are still going to be there the next time – the faces you see get older every year. It is a shame.” And Marion, who has been playing the game for 37 years, is more qualified than most to note that the social appeal of getting together in pubs to play games has all but gone. “We don’t even have any darts teams in Ludlow now. That finished a couple of years ago. Quoits is another pub game dying out. There used to be several pubs in Ludlow where you could play Quoits, but not anymore.” So even here, in the town that time forgot, this rather sad fact would seem to reflect the conspicuous change in the role of the traditional British pub. Gastropubs and wine bars are unlikely settings for the continuation of what is now viewed as a ‘heritage’ activity, and the majority of ‘generation selfie’ are far more likely to be found pointing their iphone cameras at each other than getting down to a board game. The idea of playing dominoes is risible to a large proportion of the under sixties – up there with piano sing-a-longs, beer and skittles and pickled eggs. An exception to this, of course, can be found in certain fashionable city hipster hang-outs, where pub regulars are attempting to revive these pursuits for a new generation keen to embrace the retro-style fun of their grandparent’s generation. Diminishing popularity and the closure of pubs doesn’t seem a great advertisement for the game, but there are still 70 keen members in the Ludlow Dominoes League, most of whom wouldn’t dream of missing a fixture. The stalwart League remains the real deal – still flying the flag for the traditional pub game, without any trace of irony. To set up the season Marion calls the AGM, then, when she has done the fixture list, it is sent out to the teams;

the games are played on a home-andaway basis over a 14-week period. Are they extremely competitive? “Absolutely,” says Marion. “Players win trophies and small cash prizes, and we all take it seriously. It’s very complex and it’s very technical; you have to go up and down the board and get out precisely. You’ve got to know how to play them.” What about arguments? Are there any disputes or dominoes-at-dawn grudge matches? This she considers. “There are sometimes arguments if they think the league table isn’t right for instance, but everyone gets on.” Indeed, one of the things that strikes me most is the sense of community the League engenders. And I can’t help thinking that, grappling with domino rules and scoring systems aside, joining would instantly make anyone a whole group of new friends. “Oh yes,” Marion agrees when I mention this, “it’s one big family. We all have a laugh and a joke. We even go on holiday once or twice a year together, when I organise a coach trip.” Fred, who recently lost his wife, backs this up, making it clear that sociability is a large part of the appeal. “More and more it’s a social thing for me. I’m at home on my own now, so I like to come out and play dominoes. I do enjoy it.” As the evening draws to a close, and I recover from the mistake of cheering on Angie, who is playing for the Rose and Crown as an opponent, I’m left with mixed feelings: sadness that the game appears to be going the same way as quiffs and smoking, but heartened at the League’s existence, despite the lack of appeal to a younger crowd. If a beer and a game isn’t what the pub was made for, then what is? A pint and a game of dominoes... anyone?

Next Issue

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