Ampthill
Ringers
2009 Clifton Tower Outing
photographs and article by Peter Overfield
Photo galleries:
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| Westoning | Aspley Guise | Husborne Crawley | Lunch |
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| Soulbury | Mentmore | Edlesborough |
It worked. A few visits to Clifton tower at the appropriate time (using as our excuse the fact that we couldn't scrape together enough ringers to hold practices at Arlesey) produced a repeat of last year's invitation to join their outing. No sooner had we received this invitation than our passengers of last year offered to take us round this one. Makes sense. Last year we had to pass their house on the way, this year they had to pass ours (or almost so). Gratefully accepted. Completed the preparations, fully printed OS maps with the routes between towers highlighted, and we're ready for the off.
Come the day, our transport rolled up, and we tumbled in. We were confident that the driver knew his way to Westoning and didn't need any directions from us. The passenger played hospitable (that was her excuse) and handed round the Werther's Originals. I reckon she was making sure we didn't interrupt by gumming our jaws together.
So, Westoning. We got there to find Police Cones (singles, no 99's) all down the High Street. Had someone tipped them off? Were they fearing total blockage of the road? The answer came later, the sound effects from, and vehicles in, an adjacent field offering strong evidence that a gymkhana was in preparation. Inside the church we found everyone sitting down on the job, sipping tea and munching biscuits. Well, we weren't going to be left out of this, so we too sat down, sipped tea (or coffee, if you're that way inclined) and munched biscuits. Upstairs we found a ring of six, slightly ponderous, with the tenor displaying a propensity to resist standing. Or so one young expert demonstrated. Judging from the lengths of the ropes there seems a strong chance that the band comprises almost exclusively midgets. Anthony was in charge, calling for Grandsire, Plain Bob and Cambridge (NOT all at once) whilst I was there. In my usual manner I soon sloped off to explore the church and its environs. And what did I find? Well, there's one corner of the churchyard devoted to several generations of Mucklestons. There's a headstone dating back to a death in 1716. Indoors, the list of vicars shows one Thomas Pierce having held the post continuously for about 62 years ~ but elsewhere there's a bust of one “Coventry Campion”, and yet somewhere else a memorial board mentioning one “Reverend Coventry Campion” who'd come to mature years about midway through Pierce's tenancy. What am I missing here? And there's one of those diamond “shields” on the wall bearing the motto “AIEN APISTEYEIN”. I could tell it wasn't likely to be Latin: my guess of Greek was confirmed on the Internet. It means “Ever to be the Best”, and is the motto of places like Kelvinside Academy, and Styrling Academy. The big puzzle is to be seen beside the main (south) entrance. Railed steps lead up to a curtained door. What can possibly be behind it? Exploration outside revealed nothing, but careful pacing out showed that the door led directly to........ a buttress reinforcing the wall. It's a dead-end!
On to Aspley Guise. I reckoned that driver would still be competent to get there without help, so I kept quiet. A discussion ensued on the pronunciation of “Guise”, particularly about an announcer who'd pronounced it “Geez”. But shouldn't it rhyme with “Cruise”? After negotiating an unusual set of stairs Phillipa Whittington took command (she does that most competently) with Plain Bob (doubles and minor), Stedman (only doubles) and Original (which Frank conducted, brave soul). In this small tower the bells were lighter, and much better going than Westoning. Unusually, the church was locked, so there's nothing to report from inside. Yes, I can tell you're relieved. Can't hide it, can you? But not so quick...... there's a parting message on the doorstep (parting, because it's right-way-up only when you exit). Yes, you could walk in backwards, but I'm catering for intelligent folk, you know. In the immediate churchyard, which is very, er, compact, shall we say? there was a truly magnificent specimen of an unidentified toadstool. And some of the headstones are so low that either the ground surface has risen spectacularly, or they were terrible short of money to pay for them in those days. It's only on looking across the road from the church that the full extent of the site becomes apparent. Rising from the road is a steep bank, and from the top of this the new? Churchyard slopes gently upwards into the distance. The nearer space is decorated with several trees, so the significance of the area isn't immediately apparent.
Husborne Crawley is an old friend. We visited this one on John Hele's “Walk and Ring”, May 1st 2006. Here Frank Rivett, not satisfied with his touch at A-G, took full control. Grandsire Triples, Cambridge Major, rung rather sedately on this ponderous eight, so that the conductor called for things to be moved along a bit. Later touches included Stedman Triples and Little Bob Major, plus Rounds and Call Changes for those less confident with change ringing. Meanwhile I was about my explorations again. That's a magnificent marble tomb they have in the corner. The wall decoration by the West End is rather more unusual: a pair of bayonets and a couple of cartridge-holders. These latter were curved to what looks like waist-size, and all four were apparently found, in someone's loft, as I recall, and put up with an explanatory notice. The chairs remind me of Sunday School in the 'fifties, plain wood, with rush seats, fastened together with rails. There's a magnificent metal-bound chest in one corner, so metal bound that there's hardly any wood to be seen. The font has the plainest column I've ever seen.
For Lunch Stan had organised a buffet at the Rose and Crown in Ridgemont. Unsurprisingly our driver knew the way there as well. The Lounge Bar had been reserved for our exclusive use, and the Back Room as well. Tables were laid ready for us, and the Board in the Back Room was fairly groaning with goodies. No-one needed any prompting to raid it, and soon satisfied campanologists were chompingly raising their satisfaction levels. Repeat visits were undertaken, especially after the Board was reloaded with the desserts. But try as we might, we couldn't finish it. That was a darned good meal for the money.
On, now, to Soulbury. For the first time our driver expressed uncertainty, shall we say, about the appropriate route. This gave us a chance to shine, using our maps to good effect. Russell Brown bravely took charge at this Ground Floor six with an impressive draught. Fortunately the ropes were stabilised at about ten feet up, with a most unusual circular guide frame that was the only substantial part of the rig. All the bracing and positioning of this frame was implemented using thin steel cables. Plain Bob Minor was followed by Rounds-and-Call-Changes and Grandsire Doubles. David Bailey photographed the historic tenor-wheel and Wooden-hafted Clapper in the Ringing Bay, then transmogrified into Doctor Livingstone and went exploring. An impressive Tudor Memorial on the chancel wall. A handsome model of the church, housed in a transparent case (I nearly said glass, but it's very likely plastic these days). An unusually smart treasure chest made by John Winfeild (sic) in 1731 while John Chew and Barnard Collins were Churchwardens. A notice in one corner of the Ringing Bay forbidding access to roads for Horsemen, unless they were Hunt Servants. Snooty! The records by the door show the Lovett family to have been patrons of the benefice since 1313. Apart, that is, from a brief period when some self-important upper-crust individuals horned in on the act. Like Henry VIII, for example. And in the churchyard a row of gravestones that MUST be part-buried. Those inscriptions, and especially carvings, couldn't POSSIBLY have finished at that level. Perhaps the ground at A-G HAD risen spectacularly, should we call in Time Team to explore further? In the meantime Russell had been making folk work with Stedman and Cambridge.
The journey to Mentmore involved further and detailed navigation. Sheila Ashton was in full swing when we arrived. Ok, the BELLS were in full swing, with Sheila directing operations. Happy now? Most folk seemed to agree that the bells sounded quite off-key, but whether it was the 3, 4 or 5 was open to heated discussion. I heard Grandsire Doubles (this is a ring of five, counter-clockwise just to make them more interesting) and Rounds executed (or performed, if you prefer, it wasn't that deadly), before going off to try and determine why the organ is tucked away in the South Aisle. Getting no solution to this puzzle, I went instead to admire the attractive font, and especially the beautiful bas-relief of Mother and Child behind it. Most appropriate. Outside the War Memorial is quite unusual. Instead of the traditional rectilinear edifice there's a simple slab of rough-hewn rock, bearing a circular tablet naming the heroes of WWI, and below it a rectangular tablet for those of WWII. We also arranged the crowd for the traditional Group Photograph, postponed from Soulbury because of the late finish there.
When it came to move on to Edlesborough, driver expressed some uncertainty. A little prompting “go here, then along there, turn left onto the whatsit” produced the response “Ah, yes, got it now. Then turn off at the roundabout onto the A-oohjah”. Bang on, so we got there without further ado. This church is a “first” for me. It's a redundant church, and in the care of the Churches Conservation Trust. Vernon (I don't need to say which, there's only one) was sorting out Stedman Doubles, Plain Bob Doubles, Cambridge Minor and R&CC. Another long draught, with sallies that can only be described as “well packed”. Inspection around the inside revealed some very good reasons why this church hasn't been totally abandoned, all of them beautifully decorative. Wall paintings above the columns supporting the side arches. Delicate tracery in the rood screen, painted for further effect. The carved wooden pulpit, with bays and pedestals that must have held carved saints during past times, and with a steepled and carved cowl over it all. Some ancient painting, darkened almost to invisibility, that might have been an ecclesiastic or a chinaman. Extensive wall painting smothering the space between the Chancel Arch and the roof. And in one corner the smallest stained-glass window I've ever seen. Outside it proved impossible to get a decent view of the church as a whole. This place is set on top of a narrow hill, the ground falls away almost immediately you step out of the door. There's a magnificent view across to Ivinghoe Beacon, limited by the trees growing around the church, and spoiled rather by a line of power pylons marching across the intervening field.
Fortunately, driver knew the way home ~ an exceedingly useful skill since I had omitted to plot this element of the route on our maps. One impression brought home from this trip was just how many churches run their clocks slow. I could understand them running fast ~ chivvy up the congregation a bit and help them get in on time. Heaven forbid that it's a case of tardy incumbents who want to hide the fact that they're perpetually late? But the final impression is of a good tour with an interesting range of churches, through handsome countryside, impeccably organised and properly timed. For all that, Stan, my hearty thanks and congratulations. I might even wangle another trip next year?