Edition 75 - December 2001

It was an old, old, old, old lady and a boy who was half-past three,
And the way that they played together was beautiful to see.
 
She couldn't go running and jumping, and the boy, no more could he,
For he was a thin little fellow with a thin little twisted knee.
 
They sat in the yellow sunlight, out under the maple tree;
And the game that they played I'll tell you just as it was told to me.
 
It was like hide and seek they were playing, though you'd never have thought it to be,
With an old, old, old, old lady and a boy with a twisted knee.
 
The boy would bend his face down on his one little sound right knee,
And he'd guest where she was hiding in guesses one, two, three.
 
"You're in the china close," he would cry and laugh with glee.
It was not the china closet, but still he had two and three.
 
"You're up in Papa's big bedroom in the chest with queer old key."
And she said "you are warm and warmer but you're not quite right" said she.
 
"It can't be the little cupboard where mama's things used to be,
So it must be the clothes press, grandma," and he found her with his three.
 
Then she covered her face with her fingers that were wrinkled and white and wee,
And she guessed where the boy was hiding with a one, and a two and a three.
And they never had stirred from their place right under the maple tree,
 
The old, old, old, old lady and the boy with the lame little knee.
The dear, dear, dear old lady and the boy who was half past three.

Author Unknown

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SWEET AND SOUR

As some of you may know, I now live in the Colchester area, close to the Essex-Suffolk border. At one time, I lived about ten miles from here, in a village near another village. Now it was rather strange, because if I ever asked anyone, "Excuse me, please, but could you tell me the way to Tudwick?" they would nearly always reply, "Oh, you mean Tudwick Treacle Mine." Then they would walk on. I thought at first they were having me on, but since so many people said the same thing, I though it would be interesting to explore the matter.

I began to delve into books, old records, documents and even had the full co-operation of Gelderstein University, who were most helpful. Gradually, I pieced together a picture of what had gone on many years ago in the early 1800's.

  Illustration by: Paul Swailes

Samuel Truneon was a much respected man in the Tudwick area and was a quite substantial landowner. He had large grounds to his fine house, of which he was very proud. In a very wet winter, between showers, he would take a stroll around his garden to admire the fine shrubs, trees, rockeries and so on. It was on one of these days, when he was about half way on his usual walk, that he was startled at finding a huge subsidence. An area about 30 feet across, more or less circular, had dropped some 15 feet, showing a 'cliff of sandstone'. Mr. Truneon called his gardener, who was bending weeding and totally unaware of things.

"Go and get a long ladder Olley, " Mr. Truneon ordered, and before long Olley had returned with the longest ladder he could find. "Will this do, sir?" he enquired. "It certainly will! Now put it down there and go and have a look." Olley duly obeyed. "While you are down there, have a look at that line across the sandstone and tell me what it is."

Olley scrambled across and examined the line. Thinking of oil, Truneon told Olley to put his finger on the line and to taste it. Olley did. but it was sweet - and this was the beginning of the treacle mine!

Samuel Truneon, being very astute, and after much testing of the substance, formed a company to go into production. Due to the nature of the very soft sandstone. only small tunnels were driven and only shortish people could be employed. His advertisement for staff even reached Zurich, and several people [under 5 feet tall] came over to work. The pay was good and they sent a lot of money home where their relatives opened banks.

Production survived for quite a number of years, upsetting the local bee keepers, who found the competition difficult. But, thirty years on, the treacle was beginning to diminish. People were made redundant and the works became run down. Luckily, in 1847, a new black treacle seam was discovered and production and prosperity bucked up. But nothing seems to go on for ever, and gradually this, too, dried up. Employment shrank to nothing and the mine was closed. In later years it became a rubbish tip, then it was filled in and grassed over. Today, sadly there is no sign of the old mine, people walk their dogs over the site and only have any knowledge of it, because I made the whole thing up!

I should, however, like to mention that the method of collecting the treacle was similar to collecting the latex from rubber trees - using little copper buckets pegged under dips in the seams with six inch nails.

"Mazed as a brish, I be." Cheers!

Tony Beauclerk - Colchester

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RURAL REFLECTIONS - 5

At the top of the Cairn Nature Reserve is a wooden bench, looking down upon the houses of Lower Slade. From it you can still make out the line of the old railway, now a footpath, bending round the valley as it makes its final turn before arriving at its Ilfracombe terminus. The hillside into which it cuts is now dense wood, with sycamores dominating.

The hilltop provides me and my two black Labradors with a well-earned rest, our climb having been ascended from the steeper western side. It is here that I often sit for some time, my mind deliberating over any matters that concern me. Recently, I've been 'chewing the cud' over perhaps the biggest issue of them all: the theory of evolution. Was all that I saw around me created in just 6 or 6 trillion days? As I glanced around at all the patchwork fields, I suddenly realised that both theories agreed on one matter - that the land upon which we depend, and the animals and plants that live with it, were all here before us. That, I then concluded, makes them older than us so doesn't that make them wiser? The more I considered this, the more I realised that the notion 'the older the wiser' can be seen in abundance in the countryside around us.

Re-cycling is just one example. whereas we have only just realised its environmental benefits, nature has been doing it for years. Around us at the moment, trees are shedding their leaves, becoming compost for the ground below. More than this, nature re-cycles life itself: as a dandelion dies it metamorphoses itself into seeds that glide in the wind to ensure its species survive. Man, in the form of transplants, has only just learnt this technique.

When a dead tree falls, it provides a natural home for woodland insects - no surveyor solicitor's fees required; no consultation with the tree's branch advisor and no terms and conditions - who's the wiser of who lives there? The twigs of that same fallen tree provide the bricks and mortar for the building of a bird's new home to raise its offspring - without any planning application having to be sought!

Of course, it is man that nature depends upon when it needs help, the law of the jungle being the survival of the fittest. This I could see for myself, sitting on the top of the nature reserve, where sycamore trees are dominating proceedings, preventing light to penetrate through for smaller plants.

With this thought in my mind, I looked down at my two dogs, Bourton and Gifford, the former sat up alert, whilst the latter was laid beside him, licking Bourton's coat as though it tasted of his favourite dog meat!

"If you were in the wild right now," I said to them, "You might not know what to do if one of you became ill; but at least you wouldn't intentionally hurt each other without reason. You're the wise ones, not man." Bourton just turned his head slightly, gave me one of his casual glances, then returned his attention to the high, circling buzzard he was concentrating on. In contrast, Gifford stood up, wagged his tail profusely and started licking my hand, not caring what I said, just pleased I had paid him some attention.

With that, a cold wind suddenly took hold, so gradually we began descending back through the wood. As we walked, I listened intently to the old trees, swaying and creaking in the wind. Just for a moment it was as though they were trying to speak to me.

"If these trees could talk," I thought, "They really would have some tales to tell."

Then I realised it would be more than just tales they could tell us; moreover, it would be the lessons they could teach us about the value of life itself.

Steve McCarthy

Illustration by: Peter Rothwell

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THE CHARACTER OF BERRYNARBOR

I had the fortunate experience of spending my youth in a pretty village called Berrynarbor in North Devon. It is a typical English village setting - a summer's evening, the sun going down to the sound of church bells echoing through the sweet smelling air, and a sense of peace surrounding this picture postcard rural view. I have reflected on this many times, wondering why God had been so kind to this cockney lad in giving me an experience of this vision so many times in my life.

St. Peter's Church - the centre of the village - holds many memories. There I was a choirboy and attended Sunday School services with people with whom I had grown up. One person I looked up to was a mate called Colin Leworthy, who was very talented in art, writing and sport. Whilst he was Captain of the school football team at Combe Martin, they remained unbeaten for two years. He was nicknamed 'the Mighty Atom' by the many that followed his football progress. Unfortunately he is no longer with us, having died of multiple sclerosis - a sad ending to a young life.

A place which also holds many memories is the Manor Hall. Here there was dancing every week during the summer months, to the Densil Butler band, fetes, whist drives and a badminton club. We had a team in one of North Devon's lower leagues. The ceiling of the hall was low for this game, although with practice we got used to it, but not so our visiting teams whose shuttlecocks hit the ceiling many times!

Near the Manor Hall was the Men's Institute where we played snooker.

In the Ilfracombe & District Snooker League, we had two teams - Berry A and Berry Z - and our captain was an ex-London police officer called Bill Kingdon. Bill watched over his young team like a hen looking after her chicks. When playing away in Ilfracombe, he would very often buy us fish and chips after our match. This went down a treat with growing lads like us!

The annual summer fete in the Rectory gardens, to raise money for the church, was sell supported by all, with various stalls, tombolas and many games to entice people to part with their money in the hope of winning a prize - a goldfish or a cuddly toy. The ladies of the parish clubbed together to provide home-made food of all kinds - scones, jam, clotted cream, cakes and pasties and I always made for those stalls, being a growing lad! Two of the main attractions were pony and trap rides, up and down the Rectory drive and a skittle competition for the men with a live pig being the prize. The whole place was decorated with bunting, Union Jacks and floral designs. This festive time seemed to attract fine weather and a good time was had by all. It still gives me a glow and a lasting memory.

The Old Globe Inn was a pub in the olde worlde style of brass ornaments, oak beams and log fires. I have spent many happy hours in the winter evenings with my mates, talking over the activities of the day.

I must mention a landmark of the village - the first television! Miss Cooper was the owner of the village store and she obtained one and invited a party of people to watch the Stanley Matthews Football Cup Final at WembJey. She very kindly put on a buffet and drinks at half time and everyone had a wonderful time.

When visitors ask, "What did you find to do in a quiet place like this?" I often smile and explain to their amazement, the various activities I have described to you.

There were many characters in the village and it was never dull with them around! Deaf Jimmy, 'Arffer' Edwards - Rustler to us - Pop Smith, who had an answer for everything, but the one who stood out in my memory was Uncle Jack Draper. At Christmas he played the part of Father Christmas for the children's parties and he needed very little help, apart from a red costume. For with his twinkling blue eyes, red face and white beard, he could have come direct from Santaland! Jack had a scar on each cheekbone, the result of catching smallpox in the First World War when he was in India. I believe this nearly cost him his life.

Jack was a jobbing mason and much of his handiwork can still be seen in the village today. I remember seeing him many times in my youth going about his work, with an aroma from his pipe which was pleasant to the senses. He had two fingers missing from his right hand, but I never did find out how he lost them. His favourite pastime was to be in the Globe Inn, talking about the history of the village, with more than one pint before him, his face becoming more and more flushed by the heat of the log fire! I can picture him now, that weathered face with so much character to cover an interesting life. He knew the passage links from Watermouth Castle to the sea, used by smugglers of old, collecting bounty from shipwrecks caused by the treacherous seas around our coastline. One could imagine oil lamps, or naked flames in these tunnels, with men struggling with their ill-gotten gains. I wonder if Jack's spirit is wandering around his beloved Berry, proud and content with his lot of this beautiful place.

Having been born in London a foreign place to country folk in those days - being included as one of the village gave me a sense of belonging, because Berrynarbor is my adopted home and the people I grew up with I am proud to call my friends.

John V - Ilfracombe

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LOCAL WALKS NO. 69

"When the clouds are on the hill-tops." R.D. Blackmore

A frieze of cows stretched along the horizon. On the grey stone of an ivy-clad table tomb, a red admiral spread out its wings. As it was now mid November, this was likely to be the last we should see until next year.

The yellow flowers of the winter jasmine contrasted brightly against the autumn sky.

Neat clumps of cyclamen grew beneath the sycamores outside the churchyard; an intricate tracery on their heart-shaped leaves.

We should be visiting the church later but first we descended the narrow lane in search of a footpath which we had not taken before. A black cat stood watching a pair of tweedy dunnocks in the hedge bank; turned its attention to us and marched along beside us down the lane; its jaunty, bushy tail held high like a flag.

The helpful animal led us to the waymarker arrows, which were rather hidden away and there across a muddy yard was the footpath sign. Once out on the high field, sloping down to a meandering stream with woodland extending along the other side of the valley and several more small mixed woods ahead, the scenery was wonderful lovely rolling countryside.

Behind us there was a fine view of the village of Marwood, with its church tower rising above a varied roofscape of hip roofs and dormers, a late Georgian house, a thatched summerhouse and part of the famous Marwood Hill Gardens.

Pied wagtails and larks were flitting about the field. A jay emerged from the woods with a raucous screech and a solitary grey wagtail stood by the stream. Suddenly we heard distinctive liquid notes approaching; a call evocative of estuaries and there, flying over the next field, were three curlews.

At the far end of the field, a sheep was struggling desperately to free herself. She had gone under an electric fence, then under some barbed wire and finally pushed her head through the square mesh of a wire netting fence. This in turn was against a hedge of spiky blackthorn. The poor creature appeared to have been there for some time - a lot of wool was deposited on the wire and the grass had been entirely worn away around the sheep, exposing a large patch of shiny, slippery earth.

By now a light mist had turned to drizzle. My walking companion managed to free the sheep's head without spiking himself or the sheep on the thorns, although he did receive a couple of mild shocks from the electric fence. [It was also necessary to duck under this electric wire in order to reach the stile and footpath beyond.]

On being set free, the sheep gave a sort of somersault baaaed once and went off to rejoin the rest of the flock below.

We crossed the stream at a footbridge, climbed up the hill on the other side and reached a quiet lane with an old mill nearby. After a short distance, another footpath took us back over the fields to the village.

Both the Reverend Sabine Baring Gould in his 1907 Guide to Devon and the architectural historian, Nikolaus Pevsner praised Marwood Church and its attractive settings. It is noted especially for its sixteenth century screen and carved bench ends.

Unfortunately, only the part of finely carved Renaissance screen, which stands in the north aisle, has been preserved. The section above the nave and the chancel was destroyed in 1852 under the instruction of a clergyman carrying out 'restoration' work. Outside on the South Porch, is a stone sundial made in 1762 by John Berry and similar to one he made for Tawstock church. Its unusual feature is that it indicates the time in Paris, Madrid, Vienna, Berlin, Jerusalem, Tenerife and Quebec.

It is interesting that a still small and secluded village had such global aspirations two and a half centuries ago.

Sue H

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IS THE GLASS HALF EMPTY?

Or, is it still half full? It doesn't change the amount of our drink in the glass, but it is our perception that makes us sad that it is half gone, or glad that we still have half a glass to go.

As we near the end of this year and look back at so many bad and worrying things that have happened - foot and mouth, inadequate and insufficient services, and the situation in the Middle East - it is easy to become pessimistic going into the New Year. But, out of all these bad things some good has, and will, emerge. The farming community has come a lot closer together in crisis: those who have no involvement in farming have helped support those in desperate need; many countries have united against terrorism, where previously they distanced themselves from America and Europe. So, we can look forward to good things in 2002, or we can perceive everything with doom and gloom. The choice is ours.

As I walk around this village I think, every day, that this is a truly beautiful place in which to live. When we pass the time of day, isn't it better to say something nice rather than to moan that it is raining, or it is too windy, or too hot? We need all the elements, so let's leave our friends and acquaintances with a positive word to send them on their way. Where my son lives, the temperature will soon be -30 or -40C, animals will be dying of cold and starvation because there is not enough rain to keep the grass growing, his medical aid is 1000 miles away! We are just so fortunate to live here - a temperate climate, a train to take us farther afield, roads that enable us to travel quickly [most of the time!] to see family in other parts of the country, and a hospital just 12 miles away.

So, what I am trying to say is 'try to be a smiley person and not a misery'. Not only will we feel better ourselves, but we will help cheer others and leave them feeling happier for having met us.

Happy Christmas and a contented New Year.

Brian Hillier

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SNOW

Feather soft and quiet the snow;
It covers the road
and the walk
and the rooftops
and whispers to the world:
Shhh!

Margaret R. Moore

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LETTER FROM THE RECTOR

The Rectory
Combe Martin

Dear Friends,

A friend of mine loves Christmas and its true meaning. He recounts the story of one Christmas when the family had strict rules about not going down early on Christmas morning to look at what 'Father Christmas' had brought. The rule was for the first person awake to rouse the others and all the family to go down together. Well, at 4.30 a.m. on this one particular Christmas morning, the youngest member of the family, her eyes filled with excitement, came into their bedroom shouting: "Mommy, Daddy, come quick! It's lovely!"

My friend guessed that she had been downstairs and found the bicycle she had wanted. Feeling cheated and disappointed, they duly roused the other members of the family and went downstairs, being led by their youngest daughter.

Full of excitement, she went straight past the Christmas tree and the bicycle, to the eastern window, where she pulled back the curtains to reveal the night sky. "Look, isn't it lovely? The Star! The Star! I've seen the Star of Bethlehem!"

It seems a shame that many people have forgotten the wonder, awe and beauty of Christmas. Perhaps that is what Jesus meant when he said "Unless you become like children you will never enter the kingdom of God." Perhaps he was waking us up to the wonder and magic of God's world which is all around us, if only we had the eyes to see and the ears to hear!

Truth to tell, the most wonderful and beautiful thing about Christmas is that God's love became flesh and dwelt among us, to reveal our true nature and our final destiny.

With every Blessing for Christmas and the New Year,
Your Friend and Rector,

Keith Wyer

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MANOR HALL MANAGEMENT COMMITTEE

The Village Get Together on the 14th November would seem to have been a success. There were certainly plenty of villagers in attendance, the noise level as they chatted away was quite something, and the many and varied displays around the hall were much appreciated.

Many thanks are due to those people who set up their interesting exhibits and to all those who helped. Indeed, thank you to all of you who turned up I hope you enjoyed the occasion.

More 'thank you's' - thank you to everyone who has supported the various functions and groups who have used the Manor Hall during the past year. May you continue to do so.

Sadly, during the summer between the Berry Revels and the Church Fete, two bags containing the balls, pins and wedges for use with the skittle alley went missing from inside the Manor Hall. They are not likely to turn up again now and will have to be replaced. If anyone knows where we might acquire suitable replacements - condition not all that important - please let me know.

Christmas Cards for distribution within the Parish may again be left at the village shop from Friday, 14th December. Please include at least 10p per card donation for charity.

The collection will conclude with a sherry, mince pies and coffee morning in the Manor Hall at 10.00 a.m. on Saturday, 22nd December, when the cards will be distributed. If anyone has suitable Christmas items for sale, then tabletops can be 'hired' at £5.00 a time.

Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy and Peaceful New Year.

John Hood - Chairman

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THE OLD SAWMILL INN

We are now running our Two-for-One offer on bar meals throughout December and January, Monday to Friday, Lunchtime and Evening.

We also have a four-course Christmas Menu available for bookings of up to 60 people, priced at f,9.50 per head, from 1st December until Christmas Eve.

On Friday, 14th December, we have Gary Songhurst and his newly formed band, The Elderly Brothers, performing hits from the '60's.

Friday, 21st December, is our Killer Games Night, including pool, darts and skittles, with prizes on offer. Saturday, 22nd December, will be your last chance to buy tickets for the Christmas Draw as we shall be making it that night, with prizes including a Mountain Bike, a Week-end Away for Two, and, of course, alcohol! We will also be holding a Quiz that night.

We shall be open on New Year's Eve from 7.00 p.m. and there will be a buffet available, karaoke between 11.00 p.m. and 2.00 a.m., with a disco either side. The bar is open until 4.00 a.m. Fancy Dress is option, but there will be a prize for the 'best dressed'! Tickets for New Year's Eve are now on sale.

A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year
from All at The Sawmills

38

IS THERE A SANTA CLAUS?

As far as is known, no species of reindeer can fly, but as there are 300,000 species of living organisms yet to be classified, this does not completely rule out flying reindeer.

There are 378 million Christian children under 18 in the world. At an average of 3.3 children per household, that's 91.8 million homes and one presumes that there is a least one 'good child' in each home.

Santa has 31 hours of Christmas in which to work, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels east to west which seems logical. This works out to 822.6 visits per second. That means that he has 1/1000th of a second to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney, get back into the sleigh and move on to the next house. Assuming that each of these 91.8 million stops are evenly distributed around the earth [which of course we know to be false, but for our calculations, we will accept], we are now talking about 0.78 miles per household, a total trip of 75.5 million miles, not counting pit stops. This means that Santa's sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second, 3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man-made vehicle on earth moves at a pokey 27.4 miles per second - a conventional reindeer can run, tops, at 15 miles per hour.

The load on the sleigh adds another interesting element. If each child gets nothing more than a medium-sized Lego set [2 lbs], the sleigh is carrying 321,300 tons, not counting Santa who is invariably described as 'overweight'! On land, reindeer can pull no more than 300 lbs, and even granting that 'flying' reindeer could pull 10 times the normal weight, we cannot do the job with 8 or even 9 beasts. We'll need 214,200. This increases the load, but does not include the sleigh, to 353,430 tons. This is four times the weight of 'The Queen Elizabeth'.

353,430 tons travelling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance, heating up the reindeer in the same fashion as spacecraft reentering the earth's atmosphere. The lead pair will absorb 14.3 quintillion joules of energy, per second, each. [No wonder Rudolph's is red!] In short, though, they will burst into flame, exposing their colleagues behind them and create deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire team will be vaporised within 4.26/1000's of a second. Meanwhile, Santa will be subjected to centrifugal forces 17,500.06 times greater than gravity. At 250 lbs Santa [which seems rather slim] would be pinned to the back of his sleigh by 4,315,015lbs of force. In conclusion, if Santa ever did deliver presents on Christmas Eve, he's dust now!

[Please do not tell me these calculations are incorrect! Ed]

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CHRISTMAS AT THE POST OFFICE

The Post Office and Village Store will be closed for Christmas and the New Year:

• Sunday & Monday, 23rd & 24th December - Open Morning, Close 1 p.m.
• Christmas Day & Boxing Day - CLOSED - No Papers
• Thursday & Friday, 27th & 28th December - Open All Day
• Saturday, Sunday, Monday & Tuesday, 29th December - 1st January 2002 Open Mornings, Close at 1.00 p.m.

For the Christmas season we shall be stocking up on cards and annuals, gifts, wrapping paper, etc., as well as seasonal foods and goodies! Christmas trees will be on sale and orders can be placed to ensure that you get YOUR tree. Once again we shall be holding a raffle in aid of the Salvation Army and the Hospice.

We thank you all for your custom and wish everyone the Tidings of the Season.

Alan, Nora and all their Staff

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The Cancer Research Campaign - Combe Martin Branch

CHRISTMAS BAZAAR

Saturday, 8th December, 2.00 p.m. Combe Martin Town Hall

Cakes - Bric-a-Brac - Craft Stalls Tombola
Lucky Dip Raffles
Tea and Mince Pie or Biscuit 50p
Singing with the Primary School Choir

Come and meet Father Christmas
Children Bring and Post a Letter

Come and Enjoy Yourselves!

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GLOBE NEWS

Our Quiz Nights continue every Sunday, all winter, and everyone is welcome, 8:30 p.m. The Barnstaple Carnival was a great success. Our Bill and Ben float won Best in its Class, and the title of Best Float in the Parade.

A wonderful evening was held to celebrate Colin's birthday on the 16th November - what a celebration as Wendy and Colin had tied the knot earlier in the day! Colin asked for no presents with donations going to Children in Need, and a cheque for £375 has been sent to them.

Christmas at The Globe

On Monday, 17th December, at 9.00 p.m., a group from West Down will be performing their Mummers Play [about 20 minutes], which will be followed by a sing-a-long.

On Christmas Eve we shall be open from 11.30 a.m. to 2.30 p.m. and again from 7.00 p.m. to midnight. There will be carols by candlelight in the back room at 7.30 p.m. and the Christmas Draw will take place at 9.30 p.m.

Christmas Day -- we hope you will join us for a Christmas drink between 11.30 a.m. and 1.30 p.m.

Boxing Day we shall again be open from 11.30 a.m. to 2.30 p.m. and in the evening from 7.00 p.m. to midnight, when we shall be holding our annual Boxing Day Quiz Night with special questions all about the last year!

New Year's Eve we shall be open at lunchtime and at 7.00 p.m. the festivities begin! 'Friends, Romans and Countrymen lend us your ears and get your togas on! There will be merrymaking in the Forum until 4.00 a.m.

New Year's Day - opening times as normal.

Phil, Lynne and Staff would like to wish you all

A MERRY CHRISTMAS and a HAPPY NEW YEAR

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AN ORDINARY SUNDAY EVENING AT YE OLDE GLOBE

JD

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AT-A-GLANCE DIARY

Manor Hall Diary:

Mobile Library:

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BERRYNARBOR PARISH COUNCIL
COUNCILLORS NAMES, ADDRESSES AND TELEPHONE NUMBERS
AS AT NOVEMBER 2001

• COUNCILLOR GRAHAM E ANDREWS - Treetops, Old Coast Road, Berrynarbor, EX34 9RZ. Telephone: 01271 883385 Fax: 01271 883375 E.Mail: Andrewsgraham@Talk21.com
  Chairman of the Parish Council.

• COUNCILLOR ANTONY (BUD) R RICE - Leewood, The Lees, Sterridge Valley, Berrynarbor. EX.34 9SD. Telephone: 01271 882051. (Day) 01271 883034 Mobile Number: 07768223522 E.Mai1: antonyrice@AOL.com
  Vice Chairman of the Parish Council.

• COUNCILLOR BOBBY BOWDEN - Lower Birdswell, Birdswell Lane, Berrynarbor. EX34 9SF Telephone: 01271 88 3887.
  Liaison Officer with Local Highway Authority.

• COUNCILLOR LEN COLEMAN - Swan Cottage, The Village, Berrynarbor. EX34 9SG Telephone: 01271 883763
  Representing the Parish Council as Footpath Warden.

• COUNCILLOR PAUL CROCKETT - Berrynarbor Park, Valley, Berrynarbor. EX34 9TA. Telephone: 01271 882631 Fax: 01271 882404 E.Mail: Info@Berrynarborpark.co.uk
  Representative on Claude's Garden Committee.

• COUNCILLOR RICHARD GINGELL - Hempster Farm, Berry Down, Combe Martin. EX34 ONY Telephone: 01271 883306
  Representing the Parish Council as Tree Warden.

• COUNCILLOR MRS G ANN HINCHLIFFE - Castle Hill, Berrynarbor. EX34 9SX. Telephone: 01271 883708
  Representing North Devon Rural Transport Forum; Neighbourhood Watch.

• COUNCILLOR MIKE LANE - Brookside, 63 The Village, Berrynarbor. EX34 9SE Telephone: 01271 883059
  Representing Berrynarbor Primary School Governing Body, Ilfracombe and District Crime Prevention Group, North Devon Police Liason Group, Home Defence Officer.

• COUNCILLOR MRS MARY MALIN - Mill Park Touring Site, Mill Lane, Berrynarbor. EX34 9SH Telephone: 01271 882647 Fax: 01271 882667 E.Mail: millpark@globalnet.co.uk
  Represntative on the Manor Hall Committee.

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• PARISH CLERK; MRS SUE SQUIRE - Haxlea, 2 Threeways, Bratton Fleming, Barnstaple. EX314TG. Telephone: 01598 710526 Fax: 01598 710107 E.Mail: smsquire@hotmail.com

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If you would like to raise any issue, please write to the Clerk who will put it on the Agenda. Even if you have spoken to a Member it is still very useful to write to the Clerk to arrive if possible by the Monday of the week before the Meeting. G.E.A.

The Parish Council normally meets on the second of each month (except during the August recess) at 7.30 p.m. in the Penn Curzon Room of the Manor Hall.

COUNTY COUNCILLOR:

MIKE KNIGHT

Treann, Trenode Avenue,
Combe Martin. EX34 OAJ.
Telephone: 01271 882692
Fax: 01271 882498
E.Mai1. mhknight@devon.co.uk

DISTRICT COUNCILLORS:

PETER SPENCER

Glenwood, Hangman Path,
Combe Martin. EX34 ODN,
Telephone: 01271 882634


MRS YVETTE GUBB

Holmleigh, Woodlands
Combe Martin. EX34 OAT.
Telephone: 01271 882364


Printed and published by Berrynarbor Parish Council

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OLD BERRYNARBOR - VIEW NO. 74

Christmas Past In Berrynarbor

This picture shows from left to right, No. 54 The Village, now known as Dunchideock House, together with the small, barn-like building which, when we first moved into the village was used as a dairy and was where the fresh milk was bottled and distributed by Claude Richards. Then we see the row of thatched houses which are now known as Little Gables [No. 50] on the corner and Bessemer Thatch [Nos. 48 & 49]. The postcard has been sent from Brentford at 5.45 a.m. on 23rd December 1908, and would have reached its destination either the same day, or at the latest on the 24th. In those days there was even a delivery on Christmas Day!




The message on the reverse reads:

'Wishing you & all a Merry Christmas & prosperous New Year. From J.A. Bowden & Sid 1908'.

The picture has, to my mind, been produced for Christmas by the unknown - to me - photographer, and with its borders has an Art-Nouveau touch.

[See original postcard on right including border]






The second and third pictures are from a collection of photographs I acquired many years ago which had been put together by Miss Iris Hebbert, who lived at Beech Leigh during the early part of the last century.

The first of these [on left] shows Captain James and friends, including Iris Hebbert [standing on the far right], dressed in fancy dress for celebrations at Watermouth Castle for Christmas 1916. In the centre can be seen the austere Mrs. Curzon.








The second [ on right] shows a party from Watermouth Castle on Broadstrands Beach', presumably having been rowed across from the Harbour and not having climbed down the 235+ steps down to the beach! Iris can be seen again on the far right, and it would appear that they have devoured their picnic, as the basket looks pretty empty! The picture includes a Major Williams and possibly Captain James.

Wishing everyone a peaceful Christmas and healthy New Year.

Tom Bartlett
Tower Cottage, November 2001
e-mail: tomandinge40@gmail.com

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WISHING ALL READERS

A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY AND HEALTHY NEW YEAR




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