Category: History

ONE: DISCOVERY

An invitation to participate in a seminar held by the Oral History Society in September 2017, based on some work from thirteen or so years before, got me thinking about oral history and differing walking practices. Obviously, many people record their walks – but I wanted to seek examples of projects and ideas beyond that admittedly admirable practice.

So I joined the Walking Artists Network and introduced myself with a question: I wondered if any walking artists carried out oral history projects as part of their approach. Some examples follow, but first I thought I might outline my experiences and ideas.

The work which was so well regarded was for www.irespect.net – the website seems a bit creaky now, but my perspective was that the lives of ordinary people were as necessary to any transmission of ‘Heritage’ as the lives of the powerful: a form of ‘Counter-Heritage’, in a way. I also put together a whole series of worksheets and lesson plans for schools. What I/we haven’t done is to walk the streets of Gloucester, using those testimonies and questions for walking and discussion: the great thing about devising questions with testimonies is that it stops those oral testimonies becoming inert. The questions promote engagement – that is especially so, of course, with young people.

My next involvement in oral history was with my local community: writing poems and recording local history textually, as well as with a microphone. This was a new development for me: taking a recording, making a transcript, and then writing a prose-poem, which would then be read back to the contributor. These testimonies and consequent writings can be embedded within different media, so as to contribute to further group walking and further recordings.

Here is a case study: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9xohBrBpr5w together with https://radicalstroud.co.uk/ls-lowry-and-local-landscape/

A search for the genius loci of my area (the Stroud Valleys: five valleys with fast flowing streams) followed. Fast flowing streams powered the water wheels of local industry – and those streams came from the plethora of springs issuing forth in the Stroud Valleys. That led to my cataloguing the names of local springs; then moving into a Blakean take on it all, whilst collecting memories of local springs too. This melding and conjoining of genres can be found at https://radicalstroud.co.uk/springs-from-research-to-blake-to-oral-history/

Since then, my practice has moved to a radical history of landscape and locality, in an EP Thompson style of rescuing the anonymous from ‘the enormous condescension of posterity’. This contributes to performative, historical walking. My approach involves research (sometimes primary sources); imaginative re-creations of first person voices based upon that research (a sort of one step beyond oral history); a planned, performative walk, with performers briefed beforehand; with factual, historical accounts, too, to act as a counter-point; followed by the recording of the walk textually and visually, with a posting on www.radicalstroud.co.uk

The website has a number of categories – accounts are placed accordingly. Here are two examples of recreated first person voices: https://radicalstroud.co.uk/the-last-words-of-thomas-jubiter/

https://radicalstroud.co.uk/i-was-baptized-josephine/

TWO: PRINCIPLES

Performative Walking and Oral History

Doors of No Return

Historic, documented, liminal places,

Not gone with the wind, but both visible and invisible,

Spaces and places in the Stroudwater hills and valleys

With messages and mementoes from a riotous past

Open doors to the truth –

A counter-narrative:

“A performative counter-narrative … a ‘guerrilla memory’”,

“Lieux de memoire, sites of history, torn away from the moment of history”

(Pierre Nora),

Memorialisation that moves beyond the empirical,

The documented, the evidenced and the historical,

To a counter-heritage, a counter-memorialisation…

For further reinterpretations,

And re-imaginings,

As we move art and monument

From object to process,

And from ‘noun to verb’,

As we create new museums of the past, present and future…

Beyond the Empirical!

Beyond the Documented!

Guerrilla Memorialisation!

THREE: CALIFORNIA

Three or four people or so replied to my question on the Walking Artists Network – here is an example of a different approach from Blake Morris, from California:

In terms of approaches to oral history, I work with the Ancient Greek technique of memory palaces to gather stories through walking. One example is my project Former Fresnans (2012-Ongoing) in which I do walks with people who formerly lived in Fresno, California, but now live elsewhere. We create a memory image for a Fresno-based memory palace after our walk, which records our story of walking together. I then take people in Fresno through the palace and show them the imaginary images and convey the stories of former Fresnans. You can find out more here, http://archive.fresnobeehive.com/2015/12/23/the-beehive-interview-blake-morris/,

FOUR: GLASGOW

TS Beale also replied from Glasgow:

She has been looking at the role of women in industrial actions and protest movements, ‘trying to recover/trouble/nuance/and otherwise mess with the “accepted” narrative about women’s roles in protest movements and industrial actions.’ There has been a walk alongside this:

https://www.facebook.com/events/131081357525702/?acontext=%7B%22action_history%22%3A%22[%7B%5C%22surface%5C%22%3A%5C%22page%5C%22%2C%5C%22mechanism%5C%22%3A%5C%22page_upcoming_events_card%5C%22%2C%5C%22extra_data%5C%22%3A[]%7D]%22%2C%22has_source%22%3Atrue%7D&__mref=mb

FIVE: ARIZONA

Post-Script

I have just seen Christopher Jagmin’s ideas for Scottsdale, Arizona; for us in Britain, a sort of mix of Mass Observation, and ‘A Day in a Life’ /‘Good Morning’ from the Beatles. I could fancy doing this as oral history/sociology – people convene; walk out; record; reconvene for a collective recording. It could also be a way of doing a new form of pub crawl – walkers allocated different pubs to record life; then reconvene for the collective fusion.

For one evening, Christopher Jagmin, Museum of Walking, and Scottsdale Public Art asks the community to join Museum of Walking to take a special historical walk around Scottsdale.

Meet at The Livery where you will receive a map of the area to get you started. Then you will be sent on your way to wander Old Town Scottsdale on a solo, self-guided journey for about 15-30 minutes.

While walking, we want you to explore and discover new experiences; say hello to a stranger, listen to the birds or a conversation taking place, take a photo of a place or person that looks interesting, walk down an alley, open a door for someone going into a building, turn off your cell phone and find a bench and enjoy the moment that you are having.

If you have been here many times you may have some memories of the place. If you are here for the first time everything is new. The hope is that you find or experience a moment to remember.

With your map, we ask that you document an experience from your walk, by marking the time, and the exact spot it happened. When you return to the Livery, we will pinpoint your experience on a map of the area, and we will also document them as historical document of Old Town.

I contacted the Museum of Walking and was delighted when Chris got back to me – see below

Hello Stuart.
The good people over at the Museum of Walking forwarded your email that you sent to them. Sorry it took a bit to get back to you, but was on vacation last week.

Your projects sound very intriguing and interesting. I wish I was closer to participate myself.

I am glad that you were interested in my project, and would be happy to talk more about my project and any thoughts. A collaboration is always possible.

A little bit about my collaboration with the Museum of Walking, and the residency that I am currently participating (I hope not too confusing). I also attached some photos of the signage that I have done for my History Project.

—————————————-

RESIDENCY: Safe and Sound
(http://www.scottsdaleindependent.com/news/artist-christopher-jagmin-sets-up-social-practice-projects-at-scottsdale-livery/amp/)

We are living at a moment in time that seems to be filled with high anxiety. I envision this livery space as a place to find comfort, make face-to-face connections, and maybe discover something interesting about ourselves.

The Livery space offers a variety of unexpected projects and opportunities to work with strangers, and express our community’s anxieties and joys without judgment.

—————————————-

P R O J E C T 1

The History Project

Historical markers are small story-telling signs that dot the landscape with sad, happy, or thrilling stories of known and forgotten heroes and villains, and the histories that were made at a specific location. These signs are the basis for a personal history project
that began in 2014.

This is a project that I have been personally working on for a few years. I memorialize important and not so
important times and experiences in my life, or notes overheard conversations and stories from other’s personal experiences. The signs are placed at the locations where these moments actually occurred.

I will ask community participants to remember a specific place (in Scottsdale) other than their home… where they had a profound, sad, joyful, or memorable experience. They would write their story and I would GPS these locations on a large map (at the Livery, and
documented later on a website) with colored pushpins to designate a felt emotion. This map of Scottsdale would show an emotional and alternate historical perspective of the city.

—————————————-

On the map that was given to participants, then follow up with documenting these “histories” on a map of the area, and a recording of these stories:
THE WALKING HISTORY PROJECT

Welcome to Sc be your first visit. Either way, there is a lot to see here and discover.

For this project I am asking you to take a walk around this area for 15 to 30 minutes, and experience new things, new sounds, new people, and maybe even discover something new about yourself.

Here are some suggestions for your journey:

– While walking… really listen. Put your phone down, and listen to the birds, the wind, or the sounds of the community. Perhaps you can have a seat on a park bench and listen to the conversations around
you.

– Why don’t you say hello to someone walking down the street. Or, hold a door open for someone entering a shop. You might want to offer a stranger a compliment, or just give up a big smile.

–  If you want a solitary experience… maybe you can walk down a street that is new to you, or cut down an alley that looks interesting (and safe!). Why don’t you take a photo of an interesting find, but instead of posting on a social media outlet, just share
with a friend in person.

My hope is that you challenge yourself and make a memory that you can tell me and your friends about.
Don’t forget to document your experience by marking the time, and the exact spot it happened on this map. When you return to the Livery, I will document this unique moment as a historical document of Old Town.

—————————————-

Wishing you well, and much luck
Christopher
— 

SIX: MORE IDEAS

PPS

Dear Stuart,

I saw your email on the wan digest mailing list and I thought I’d drop you a line. Your project sounds really fascinating!  I have been trying to use walking interviews as a way to conjure up life stories and geographical imaginations both in Northern Ireland and Spain

Gari

Garikoitz Gómez Alfaro

10-11 Pavilion Parade
School of Humanities
University of Brighton
BN2 1RA – Brighton

Hi again Stuart,

I enjoyed reading this palimpsest of yours. I wish I could escape to the West Country to join you in one of those radwalks!

There are a few other projects I know of that might be interesting to you – do you read Spanish? There’s a couple of really interesting projects in Spain, ranging from the Anarchist Route in Barcelona (with augmented reality) to derives organised by autonomist&feminist groups in Madrid.

I also wanted to draw your attention to an article by Lisa Hill, who is based at Bristol University. The first half of the article is a very useful academic review of approaches to memory/space then quickly turns into an interesting reflection about new ways of writing about life stories and memory. In addition to that, she puts those thoughts into practice in a very useful way. I hope this is useful.

Best regards,

Gari

—
Garikoitz Gómez Alfaro
Ph.D. candidate
—
10-11 Pavilion Parade
School of Humanities
University of Brighton
BN2 1RA – Brighton

SEVEN: DR HILL

I duly read Dr. Hill’s article about walking in the Forest of Dean, with Ron Beard, who provided the oral history – and here is a synopsis.

Dr. Hill spoke of the ‘spectral’: the ‘temporal disjunction’ that can happen when out walking – when landscape and mind intertwine; when memory (voluntary or involuntary) and time conjoin and disjoin, so that the ‘future-present’ is found within ‘the past’. Dr. Hill argues that different styles of narrative and writing are required to describe this mind-landscape fusion: styles that do have a common theme of disrupting authorial omniscience, however: the writer is in the landscape, not some sort of detached, positivist observer.

Hill draws on Proust, Benjamin, Derrida and Sebald as she develops her individual take on cultural geography and then applies this theoretical position to her walk with Mr. Beard.

Ron recollects and speaks of the past while out walking the Dean landscape. Dr. Hill walks, imagines, recreates, listens, records, with an acknowledgement of how important the senses are to any spectral recreations: the smell of coal dust, the whistle of a train etc.: ‘madeleine moments’.

Dr. Hill concludes by stating that she had ‘suggested that walking with memory could provide a more-than-representational perspective on the past. The act of walking creates powerful recollections because it provokes a distinct and familiar tactility with the world’: ‘the spectral … the revenant …ghostly memories … haunting memories … the haunting of the self.’

And this spectral disjunction of time will require a discourse that dispenses with linear narrative. Instead, a narrative should be one that ‘employs a subtle form of literary montage that operates by a process of juxtaposition and discontinuity – in the placing of text and image, and in the changes of topic and style.’ And this writing could well use ‘authentic’ oral history, but might also move towards the ‘fictive’, using a post-modernist multiple voice narration.

Food for thought! And reminiscent of George Orwell’s description of a ‘slum’ in Down and Out in Paris and London, where the initial ‘succession’ of yells first thing in the morning develops into a ‘variegated chorus’ later in the day. ‘Variegated chorus’ …

EIGHT: SPAIN

Talking of Orwell, Gari emailed me further:

‘Here’s the link for the project on walks and feminist memory in Madrid:
http://www.feministas.org/lugares-de-memoria-feminista-de.htmlhttp://www.feministas.org/lugares-de-memoria-feminista-de.htmlhttp://www.feministas.org/lugares-de-memoria-feminista-de.html

Many thanks to Helen Pomeroy at Archway School for the following translation:

We are a group of friends, feminist activists, who are united for the objective and in the interest of making visible and generating collective memorial spaces about the social struggles which have developed over time in the Spanish state. Also we want to contribute to the story of the emancipation of women. We want to know how we arrived here but above all we want share it and spread to others this interest. This is why we have created this group.

We believe that feminist story is collective, historical, rich, diverse and multiple. A memory which for the most part is not part of any textbook nor in any official stories in history, nor is it reflected in the streets of our city or our museums. It is a memory which is found nowhere, a memory which remains open and active in the heads and in the hearts of those people who are given to the moment of seeking alternative reconstruction who seek to transform personal sentiment to collective and public meaning.

and here the one for the barcelona project, which is probably less relevant as it isn’t directly related to oral history but might be interesting due to the possibilities the technology used offers:
http://cierto.org/pdf/tactical_tourism.pdfhttp://cierto.org/pdf/tactical_tourism.pdfhttp://cierto.org/pdf/tactical_tourism.pdf

NINE: TIM INGOLD

Also, I can’t believe I forgot to mention Ingold’s introduction to “Ways of Walking”: https://quote.ucsd.edu/sed/files/2014/09/Ingold-Ways-of-Walking-Introduction1.pdfhttps://quote.ucsd.edu/sed/files/2014/09/Ingold-Ways-of-Walking-Introduction1.pdf  ‘

Again, I duly read this and here is my synopsis:

This ethnographical overview provides a salutary lesson, with a global perspective on walking. It takes us away from a European and/or urban textual modernity, to walking as a social activity – footprints interwoven for some cultures with the transmission of ‘knowledge’, storytelling and oral history. It may be time to resurrect such an approach here in this country – ‘walking’ can become over intellectualised and dry as dust academic; it’s time to bring back the vernacular, when occasion demands.

And that’s what I am trying to do with the writing of a DIY guide to performative walking for my locality – writing with a voice that appeals to everyone. The hope is that there will be a widening collective sharing of experience, beyond the usual suspects.

More of that in the future – Christmas, in fact.

TEN: TOBY BUTLER

Almost finally, now …

Gari also drew my attention to the Memoryscape work of Toby Butler along the bank of the Thames (oral history in the landscape, rather than in museums or as transcripts) and an article at http://www.historyworkshop.org.uk/memoryscape/

I tried to contact Professor Butler but he has left UEL and they have no forwarding email address.

ELEVEN: DR CORDER

Dr Kate Corder also contacted me about HOW (Heathrow Orchards Walks):

When I was planning my HOW events, I observed old maps of the Heathrow area and delved in to histories and archives. From 2014-2016 there were approximately 19 HOWs, three of which were not made public, but I had arranged to talk to people about the area history on route. Oral history of the area was an ongoing dialogue before, after and during the HOW event. Participants spoke to historians, activists and volunteers about the regional history met on route during the event. Even though I am not currently doing more HOW events, I am still working on things connected to HOW, (at the moment two publication essays and my work is included in the Alternative Document group exhibition touring to Stoke, Sydney, Bath and Brighton in the next year). 

TWELVE: SAPPERTON TUNNEL AND THE CANAL

As regards the Stroud area, our next performative walk, recording and podcasting will be on October 7^th, when, inter alia, Uta Baldauf will perform a piece about legging through Sapperton Tunnel on the Thames and Seven Canal, right there in front of the tunnel. https://radicalstroud.co.uk/i-was-baptized-josephine/

This piece is an exercise in oral history of sorts: a first person voice of guerrilla memorialization that challenges historical orthodoxy and heritage. This recording of a transgressive account (‘Presentism’?) runs alongside (albeit in a parallel universe) official recordings on the Stroudwater and Thames and Severn canals.

But ours are the invented voices of oral history – authentic and valid in a different type of way from the voices of canal restoration.

Beyond the Empirical,

Beyond the Documented:

Guerrilla Memorialization.

On the way back on the train, Uta and others asked me about what happened to Joe/Josephine. I explained that I had invented her/him.

Uta turned round and looked at me:

’But, I felt she was a real person when I spoke her words. To me, she was a real person. I think she did exist. She did exist.’

https://www.facebook.com/100009938981619/videos/pcb.2372736622951837/534860346855260/?type=3&theater

https://www.facebook.com/100009938981619/videos/pcb.2372736622951837/534860333521928/?type=3&theater

‘We think place is about space but in fact, it is really about time.’
(Rebecca Solnit)

When I first went in search of the soul of FGR,
I wandered through fields and lanes and hills and hedgerows,
Trying to find FGR’s elusive genius loci,
A topographical version of the soul,
Interwoven with local history,
Only to reach the conclusion that this soul
Might just be found in the imagination,
An invented fey ley line,
Emanating from the Jovial Forester,
Stretching up to The New Lawn Another Way
Down through the old hamlet of Forest Green,
And along the valley to the River Frome,
And thence to the River Severn,
A gateway to a world far beyond the Five Valleys:
In short, a Janus-like conjoining
Of both introspection and extrojection.

But a reading of Tim Barnard’s FGR history:
Something to Shout About
Gave me something to think about,
And grounded me further in time as well as space,

Viz:

1. Late 19th century Stroud Journal football reports used an eccentric first person approach from the point of view of the football: for example, ‘The goal Forest Green got was … a very lucky one. I was quite by myself, and the Stroud goalkeeper rushed at me … Signed: The Ball.’
2. Woodchester Priory had a team in 1895, and players readily switched clubs: Woodchester, Nailsworth, Forest Green, Stroud, and so on.
3. On the other hand, playing for Forest Green passed through the generations; the same names appear – Marmont, for example; or, the Browns: ‘Don’t you dare sign for Shortwood – Browns play for Forest Green …’ There was the ‘exaggeration of small differences’ syndrome: Newmarket, Shortwood, Forest Green.
4. A village like Amberley could put out a team before the Great War; so could the M&SWJ Railway – it makes you think about how that war ripped the hearts out of so many villages. (No one smiles in early 1920s team pictures, as a rule, do they?)
5. What’s in a name? Forest Green and Nailsworth teams seemed to almost serially swop names before the Great War: ‘Nailsworth and Forest Green United’ standing out as an archetypal period piece of footballing nomenclature.
6. Extracts from Trenchcoats for Goalposts: ‘Fancy a pint, Ernie?’ ‘Don’t mind if I do, Ernie.’ Lights shine on sign – Both: ‘The Jovial Foresters!’ ‘Home of Forest Green. Changed in here every Saturday. Its very quiet tonight though isn’t it.’ ‘Well … that’s old Kitchener for you.’ Both: ‘Your Country Needs You!’

   Who’s for the Game? by Jessie Pope:

   Who’s for the game, the biggest that’s played,
   The red crashing game of a fight?
   Who’ll grip and tackle the job unafraid?
   And who thinks he’d rather sit tight?
   Who’ll toe the line for the signal to ‘Go!’?
   Who’ll give his country a hand?
   Who wants a turn to himself in the show?
   And who wants a seat in the stand?
   Who knows it won’t be a picnic – not much-
   Yet eagerly shoulders a gun?
   Who would much rather come back with a crutch
   Than lie low and be out of the fun?
   Come along, lads –
   But you’ll come on all right –
   For there’s only one course to pursue,
   Your country is up to her neck in a fight,
   And she’s looking and calling for you.

7. Lilian Northwood lived close to the pub and looked back to the post-war years in Forest Green Lily. She spoke of the team’s successes; marching behind the Nailsworth silver band; ‘The Rovers’ black and white flag fluttered proudly in the breeze’; music and dancing in the street outside the pub:

   We are the Forest Green Rovers
   Our forwards are hot on the ball
   Our half-backs and full-backs want beating
   And the goalie they can’t beat at all
   Chorus
   Where will they be when the Rovers take the running?
   Where will they be when they’ve done their level best?
   Where will they be with all their strength and cunning?

   Ten to one on the Rovers and nothing on the rest.’

8. FG yo-yoed up and down Chestnut Hill from The Lawn to Nailsworth and back in the 1920s. Pitches included Tanner’s Piece (now Park Road); Enoch’s Field (now King George V’s Playing Fields); Hayes Road (near the Jovial Forester), owned by FG Congregational Church – they had a team too, and The Lawn. You could spectate from a bedroom window, or crawl through hedgerows, or retrieve footballs from the same hedgerows, or help cut the grass and keep the ground tidy.
9. The British Empire transmitted its racial tropes: one ‘mascot’ would dispense with the customary black and white stripes, top hat and tails, and would, instead, ‘black up’, climbing Spring Hill, frightening children, armed with a shield and a spear.
10. Society transmitted its gender tropes: wives, sisters, aunts, mothers had to wash and iron all the football kit, on top of everything else.
11. 1936 was a year! Abdication Crisis … Hitler’s gamble on marching into the Rhineland … FG decide to buy the football ground at auction, without the necessary.
12. Local derbies attracted crowds of some seven hundred, otherwise ‘just a smattering’ (Peter Vick). People biked and walked over the commons for the derbies, Brimscombe being the key game for both FG and Brimscombe.
13. The sun shone, lawns were being mown, pillboxes at Framilode built facing the wrong way: ‘What a day for a war.’ During WW2, Lord Lee (resident at Avening) paid for a cup for a local league; it was won by Nailsworth Rangers and placed on a shelf at the Britannia; from where it mysteriously disappeared. Other matches took place against the RAF at Aston Down; the Home Guard kept watch; my old friend Peter Tickner was evacuated to Eastington from where he witnessed the night sky turn red when Coventry was blitzed; the football pitch at The Lawn was turned over to pasture. Players such as Ronnie Clift (killed in Crete) lost their lives.
14. After the war, Peter Vick would regularly cut his nose when heading the ball – his glasses were of steel, made to sit inside a gas mask. Other consequences of the war included Polish refugees and service people living in camps. (Remember the Polish contribution to the Battle of Britain and ‘The few’) They had a team in the Stroud League in the early 50s.
15. 1948-49 saw programmes sold for the first time – the night before a match at the George Hotel in Nailsworth and the Jolly Forester.
16. 1951: a colour change almost occurred, from black and white stripes (established 1919) to green and white stripes.
    

    ‘and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.’ TS Eliot

17. And the swinging sixties? 1965: Ready Steady Go!(?) No – Points West. FG on TV for the first time with the opening of the new grandstand.
18. Welcome to the 1970s: Punk comes and goes … The Falklands War … the New Romantics … and … … Mrs. Thatcher … and … ‘WEMBERLY, WEMBERLY, WE ARE THE FAMOUS FOREST GREEN ROVERS AND WE’RE PLAYING AT WEMBERLY’ 1982 FA Vase Final FGR 3 Rainworth Miners Welfare 0. The poignancy of that name! Rainworth Miners Welfare – little did we know exactly what was just around the corner … Miners’ Support Group(s) in Stroud …
19. And after that for FGR? Gates below 200; a team picture from 1986-87, back row, 2nd left: ‘unknown’.
20. And a name change … 1989, FGR rebranded as Stroud FC. A shock to all, one year before the FGR centenary. A couple of years later, and, money was owed to the Inland Revenue, the brewery was ‘after them’, the coffers could barely run to turning on the floodlights, debts kept mounting, a fanzine was launched and closed after two issues and the threat of legal action … But! There was a return to the 1970s black and white kit! And in May 1992, the name reverted back to Forest Green Rovers!
21. Frank Gregan was an old school manager – his training routines included sending the players up and down Chestnut Hill to report back on the price of an onion bhaji; there’s something of the Empire about this … did the restaurant continually alter the price under Mr. Gregan’s orders? Was inflation that rampant? Or was it an easy gig for the players … ‘Same price as last week, boss.’ Anyway, now that Girish is selling his vegan curries up at the New Lawn, life gets easier on the training ground.
22. A new stand in 1996; gates more than doubled in a couple of years to 500 … and a history of local, regional and the quaintly named ‘Hellenic League’, together with back-to-back promotions brought the demands of modernity to the table: promotion to the Conference would mean further ground improvements: more seats; more covered terracing.
23. The end of the millennium meant FGR’s second visit to Wembley, with a whole series of multiple miraculous escapes from relegation from the Conference in the new one. Last Minute Goals! Results improbably going FGR’s way on the final day of the season! Goal Difference! Other club’s malfeasance or inadequate stadiums! Glued to teletext and ceefax! You couldn’t make it up, folks! Safe for another season!
24. Meanwhile, in a parallel universe … ideas for a new stadium at Stonehouse; or along the Avening Road; instead … plans for a new stand at The Lawn to satisfy Conference rules and regulations. And in another parallel universe … coaches from Worksop for a fixture against FGR went to Forest Green, near Gatwick. You couldn’t make it up, folks!
25. And in yet another parallel universe … a repeated line: ‘The FA Vase and FA Trophy double would have to wait for another year.’
26. And back at the ranch … Stroud College objected to any expansion of the ground … that would mean that FGR could face relegation as the ground would not satisfy Conference regulations … so attention turned to the aptly named Highwood playing fields … work started 2005 … But debts continued to mount, indeed, spiral. And even though initial discussions with Dale Vince in 2009 about sponsorship were fruitless … like a windblown Topsy, the discussions grew … as did the involvement of Mr Vince, as chairman; as did the sponsorship of Ecotricity, as did the environmental awareness re cuisine and transport … and the team’s colours changed once more …
27. And now here we at The New Lawn, in the Football League, and with the possibility of a change of home to Eastington: there’s something typically FGR paradoxical about going west to Eastington; ‘Another Way’.

Conclusion

‘and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.’ TS Eliot

‘Pub team with money, you’re just a pub team with money.’

When the Eastleigh fans sang that, did they know that they were referencing the Jolly Forester?
Or was there an ambient, subliminal force at work?
A fey ley line working its magic, channeled from the old Jolly Forester?
The spiritual home of FGR.
The soul of Forest Green.

FGR have had an equivocal relationship with Forest Green and the local landscape; Newmarket, Shortwood, Nailsworth, Stroud, the Five Valleys; a part of it and apart from it. The topography has always meant a pressure on space and the capacity of stadiums. Climbing the football ladder has constantly meant a questioning of the utility of the stadiums at The Lawn and The New Lawn. Heraclitus: ‘The only constant is flux.’

Ditto, team strip and colours.

Ditto, getting to and from the match. ‘O tempora, o mores!’

The tales of LS Lowry-like women and men, girls and boys, matchstick dogs and cats … walking or cycling over the commons … and now … all those cars jamming the local roads … despite a brilliant local bus service.
It would be great if FGR could promote a healthy life style not just through diet and energy, but also through promoting walking, cycling and using public transport to the match.

I think it was Perry Anderson who said that nations were ‘imagined communities’. The same could be said of FGR – but having read, thought, wandered and wondered, my ultimate conclusion is that the heart and soul of the ‘imagined community of FGR lies by the Jolly Forester. (Singular? Plural?)
I shall walk up there sometime and re-imagine the band playing in the street outside, the dancing in the lanes, the singing, the celebratory recompense that FGR could give after the devastation of the Great War.
(See point 7 above.)

‘and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.’ TS Eliot

‘Pub team with money, you’re just a pub team with money.’

If and when the move to Eastington takes place, I hope there could be some heritage boards constructed at the new ground. And if the owners agreed, a plaque at the house which was the pub and changing room. There is a post box in the wall there: wouldn’t it be marvelous if when the ground switch happens, fans posted a memory of The Lawn/New Lawn to the new ground. There could be a changing display.

‘and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.’ TS Eliot

Post script
Stuart, I’ve been reading an e-copy of this. Fascinated by FGR’s early amalgamation with Nailsworth Thursday FC

FOOTBALL by Jean Philippe Toussaint
‘Toussaint is carving out one of the most fascinating literary oeuvres of our times.’ – Nicholas Lezard, Guardian
‘This is a book that no one will like, not intellectuals, who aren’t interested in football, or football-lovers, who will find it too intellectual. But I had to write it, I didn’t want to break the fine thread that still connects me to the world.’ (Jean Philippe Toussaint

Emerveillement
‘Le football, comme la peinture, selon Leonard de Vinci, est cosa mentale, c’est dans l’imaginaire qu’iI se mesure et s’apprecie. La nature de l’emerveillement que le football suscite provient des fantasmes de triomphe et de toute-puissance qu’il genere dans notre esprit.’

Wonder

‘Football, like painting according to Leonardo da Vinci, is a cosa mentale; it is in the imagination that it is measured and appreciated. The nature of the wonder that football provokes derives from the fantasies of triumph and omnipotence that it generates in our minds.’
(With thanks to Helen Aubrey for the translation)

Radical Stroud’s Entry on the History Workshop Journal Page

Stroud – that ‘mill town in the Cotswolds’ – together with its hills, valleys and Gloucestershire tracks, has a long history of radicalism: a Digger community down the road at Slimbridge; Parliamentarian supporters in the Civil War; illegal tobacco cultivation; food riots; weavers’ riots; Captain Swing; poaching; Chartism; agricultural trades unionism, Quakerism, a Tolstoyan community nearby – and, uniquely, an arch to commemorate the end of slavery.

I could go on, but there is another side to this this coin: ‘Stroud Scarlet’s imperial history. That cloth stretched out on tenterhooks, red-coated the British army; was traded with the Iroquois and by the East India Company; some of that cloth must have made its way down to Bristol, Bunce Island, Sierra Leone, North West Africa and …

Radical Stroud celebrates, recreates, challenges, and reimagines this history through collective performative landscape walks, fusing the performing arts, ‘history’, ‘literature’, psychogeography and counter-heritage. We go beyond conventional sources by creating first person prose and poetical accounts, giving a voice to those ignored by the ‘enormous condescension of posterity’. We blur the genres of History and Literature, of Fiction and Non-Fiction.

I will provide just a few examples here, but a browse through our website will give a fuller picture of our practice. Past shows and recordings include No Pasaran! – a history of west country involvement in the Spanish Civil War; Fair Shares for All – a history of the co-operative movement in Gloucestershire, and Trenchcoats for Goalposts – our current show about the 1914 truce, and local football clubs.

As regards collective walks, we had over one hundred people on our Weavers’ and Workhouse Walk, while our most recent walk saw sixty people walk five miles to commemorate a meeting of 5,000 people in support of Chartism on Selsley Hill, near Stroud in 1839. This featured the christening of a new Chartism beer remembering John Frost (he was selected as prospective Chartist parliamentary candidate for Stroud, some eight months before the Newport Rising) at Stroud Brewery; a walk along the Thames and Severn Canal, with songs and poems; and then the climb up to Selsley with a recreation of the 1839 speeches up there, together with more song against a sun-splashed Severn sunset.

We have received funding from Stroud Festival for our Chartism project, and a film about the 1839 meeting called Day of Hope is in gestation this year, and will be screened in the Stroud Fringe Festival next August. This is a community-based production, with local actors, scriptwriters, musicians, historians, and community involvement through public meetings and invitations via both traditional and social media.

As part of this project, we are also walking the Thames from source to Kensal Green, to commemorate the Chartist Allen Davenport, who was born by the infant Thames at Ewen, and who features on the Reformers’ Memorial at the cemetery.

Finally, a new Waterscape section will appear on the website in January: a radical history of our local canals and rivers, with radical boat trips as well as walks.

Brooklyn and the Slad Brook Conjoined Historically and Inter-Textually

I remember so well that day at Wallbridge in Stroud,
Seeing the man whose name I do not know,
Yet with whom I always share the time of day
Whenever our paths cross in the street;
He was leaning on the canal bridge,
Gazing out over the waters,
Beyond the information board
Which portrays Stroud Scarlet,
Stretched out on tenterhooks
In Rodborough Fields;
He was staring at the Cainscross Road,
Where the Slad Brook enters the canal –
In a reverie about the old brewery, I thought –
‘Remembering the smell of the beer?’ I asked;
‘No, I’m just thinking about all of these cars,
Where they all comin’ from, and where they all goin’ to?’

I thought of him, the canal, the cars and the picture today,
When striding out into New York City;
Some of that Stroud Scarlet stretched out in Rodborough Fields
Might well have ended up in New York,
Nearly two hundred and fifty years ago,
A spreading splash of crimson on Brooklyn Heights;
It had already been traded with the Iroquois,
A century before that,
And slaves, both north and south of the Mason-Dixon Line
Would have been bought with Stroud Scarlet back in Africa;

Back home, locals might well have gathered to gaze and chat on the bridge,
Talking of the war in America,
And of the new Stroudwater Navigation,
Watching the coaches and the Severn trows,
Wondering where they all comin’ from,
And where they all goin’ to;

Charles Mason, of the Mason-Dixon Line,
Was born back home:Wear Farm, Oakridge Lynch:
Baptized at Sapperton Church, May Day 1728;
Thomas Pynchon imagined him over at Randwick,
Watching a cheese rolling, admiring Susannah Peach,
Dreaming of the wealth in her father’s Minchinhampton house –
Samuel Peach, ‘a growing Power within the East India Company’;
But Charles met and fell in love with Rebekah –
‘he went toppling on to the grass …
As he arose, holding his head … her Voice first reached him.
“Were it Night –time, Sir, I’d say you were at Star-Gazing.”…
Her looks had him stupefied’,
There near ‘The towns around the Golden Valley’,
where
‘The precise Geography of the Water-shed was now primary,-
where Races might go, for Wheels to be driven and Workshops
to be run from them… ‘twas like coming before the Final Judge’,

Which is why whilst Mason and Jeremiah Dixon were making their line,
Twixt Pennsylvania and Maryland,
Manufacturers and surveyors and the traders of Stroudwater
Were dreaming of a line, a cut and an inland navigation,
Stretching from the Severn at Framilode, and so on to Stroud;

But in the year when General Wolfe and his Stroud Scarlet troops
Stormed the heights of Quebec,
Rebekah,
Mason’s first wife, died:
A memorial tablet stands upon a tombstone at Sapperton,
To recall her life,
When a few short years before,
Colonel Wolfe had ridden down striking weavers
in the valleys around Horsley and Stroud,

And even though he professed some sympathy for their plight:
“The people are so oppressed, so poor and so wretched,
that they will, perhaps, hazard a knock on the pate for bread and clothes… the poor half-starved weavers…beg about the country for food…the masters have beat down their wages too low to live upon,
and I believe it is a just complaint”,
He was in charge of six companies of foot soldiers
Enough “to beat the mob of all England”;

He reported that
” Those who are most oppressed have seized the tools
and broke the looms of others who would work if they could”.
And so he obediently awaited orders
from “the magistrates to use our weapons against them” –
and so, the production of Stroud Scarlet resumed,
Laid out on tenterhooks, in that picture down by the canal,
Ready for ‘The American War of Independence’,
‘The American Revolution’ –
For in 1775, General Howe stiffened Loyalist New York’s resolve
With over 30,000 soldiers:
Stroud Scarlet troops landing at Staten Island and Long Island;
Ready for George Washington’s march south from Boston,
To the tip of Manhattan, across the East River, to Long Island,
And Brooklyn Heights;

Washington was eventually forced to retreat
After the redcoats’ stealthy advance up what is now Park Slope,
(With just one solitary victory to his name, at Harlem Heights),
Back across the East River, once more into Manhattan;
Then further along roads on the west bank,
Across the Hudson River to reach New Jersey,
Across the Delaware, and so into Pennsylvania;
The British army and Stroud Scarlet would occupy New York
For the rest of the conflict,
But it was a hollow victory:
The British army would depart in ignominy,
Seven years later, on November 25th 1783;

Five more years would pass,
Until King George the Third would lose his mind,
The year in which he would start talking to the trees,
Lamenting ‘The loss of my Colonies’,
The year in which he visited the locks at Wallbridge,
And the tunnel at Sapperton,
The year before the French Revolution
Would subsequently lead to more war,
More tenterhooks,
And more Stroud Scarlet,
And yet more crimson spilt:
Families on tenterhooks,
Hoping husbands, sons and brothers would return,
Uninjured, in one piece
(Rather than forced to beg in tattered red),
To Stroud, its looms, its springs, its brooks and streams,
Its scarlet, and its crimson,
Up there in Rodborough Fields,
Above the Slad Brook,
Unaware of the fate of Nathan Hale,
A generation before,
Arrested in Queens as a spy,
‘Hanged by the redcoats’
In Manhattan in 1776, aged twenty-one:
‘I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country’:
The Slad Brook and Brooklyn conjoined.

Places to visit:
Saint Paul’s Church, downtown; Morris-Jumel Mansion, uptown;
Rivington Street, named after a Loyalist printer who acted as a spy for Washington and as a double-agent;
MacDougal Street, named after Alexander MacDougal, who founded the New York Sons of Liberty; Hannah MacDougal, his wife, led a Broadway march against his imprisonment for his ‘To the Betrayed Inhabitants of the City and Colony of New York’;
Murray Hill , remembers Robert Murray and his Wall Street shipping company and Murray’s Wharf, but even more his wife, Mary, who detained British officers with a fine meal, thus allowing American troops to escape pursuit;
Francis Lewis Boulevard – Mr Lewis, the merchant, signed the Declaration of Independence as a representative of New York. The Declaration was declaimed on July 9th 1776, in what is now City Hall Park.
It is interesting to reflect on the fact that New York is named after James, Duke of York (after the Dutch gave up ‘New Amsterdam’). The Duke, the future King James the Second, was a leading light in the Royal African Company. So much so, that slaves were branded DY before the middle passage to the Americas and the West Indies. There seems to be some amnesia about this: King’s County; Queen’s County; Prince Street …

New York …

Francis Spufford Golden Hill Faber and Faber 2016:

‘The Broad Way … was a species of cobbled avenue, only middling broad, lined … with small trees. Wagon-drivers, hawkers with handcarts … Beyond Broad Way … the lanes descended there to an uncertain shore, where rowing boats were drawn up in clumps of yellow grass, and wading birds stalked on mudflats exposed by the tide …

‘river-schooners from up the Hudson and coasters from all along Long Island and Connecticut, and wherries plying across from Jersey …

It’s odd to think that the Chartist mass meeting up on Selsley Hill
Contributed to the formation and spread of public libraries.
But it’s true, after a fashion.

The Chartist decade of 1838 to 1848,
The ruling class fear of revolution,
The threat to private property and profit,
The association of freethinking with ‘intemperance’,
All helped lead to the 1850 Public Library Act,
The cult of municipal museums too,
And the Victorian emphasis on private study,
Within a public or familial space:
The familiar trope of the Victorian working class male autodidact.

‘We must educate our masters’,
Said Home Secretary, Robert Lowe,
After the urban working class gained the vote in 1867,
But self-help, the 3 R’s, libraries, museums and schools
Didn’t necessarily mean universal conformist thinking:
Fiction fostered the imagination, and non-fiction the frown:
Reading could lead to questioning, and such questioning,
Coupled with the study of a book’s bibliography
Could lead to the polite request that the local library
Might order a required book –
Not on the shelves –
Either as new stock,
Or from another library,
Out of town or county:
This was a public, national service,
Not just a municipal one.

Public libraries, public housing, public houses, public services,
Public footpaths, public baths, public broadcasting, public space,
Public health, public transport, public reading:
Children clutching their four books under their arms,
On their fortnightly visit,
Learning the nature of youthful citizenship
When paying their fines if overdue,
Studying the stamps and dates at the front of the book:
Wondering about who might have had this book before,

What were they like?
Were they just the same as me?
Would we ever meet, and discover that…
Once upon a time …

Or gauging the popularity of a book,
How could it be that no one had taken this book out for two years,
Two months and twenty-six days!
And when receiving a book through the out of county service,
The seemingly random nature of geography
And one’s own personal taste,
Resulting in strange affinities and remembrances:
How did Stroud know this book I needed
Was in Lewes Public Library?
In that faraway county called Sussex.
Why Lewes?

And back then,
There were libraries in all the suburbs, towns, cities, villages
And counties in our country, and travelling libraries too
For hamlets and isolated homesteads in the back of beyond,
Back in the time when England, Wales,
Scotland and Northern Ireland
Were not called Amazonia:
Use it or Lose it.

This posting, about Chartism in Wotton-under Edge, was kindly shared by Richard Barton, after our Weavers and Workhouse Walk during the Stroud Fringe: the original focus was upon the family history of the Lacey family, and this section has been taken from that overall family history research. Many thanks again to Richard.

 E.S. Lindley in ‘Wotton-under-Edge’, page 110:

‘Lacey’s diary also has some account of the mild Chartist agitation of 1839. He (Henry Ratcliffe Lacey of the Tabernacle), with his brother Rowland (whom we meet in other connections) made themselves prominent, but their brother Newton had to keep quieter, being master of the British School. There was a large meeting on the Chipping, addressed by Henry Vincent, a noted national leader then out on bail, who was very soon gaoled at Monmouth over a great riot of the Newport miners. At half past five on Saturday morning brother Rowland came to tell Henry that Mr. Cogswell and two others were waiting for him downstairs, and he had a warrant served on him for attending an unlawful meeting. After telling his mother he was going for a walk, he persuaded Mr. Cogswell to go on and he would follow. A little down Nibley road a fly was waiting and he took them to Dursley for examination. Friends had brought bail, and it was accepted; at assizes on the Wednesday they succeeded in getting postponement till the Spring Assizes. The prosecution wanted them to come to terms, and their friends persuaded them to plead guilty and enter into recognizances to keep the peace for two years. Nothing more happened.’

Feb. 28 to Mar. 9: Bristol, Cirencester and Stroud

WEDNESDAY, March 6. — Weather cold — took coach for Wootton-under-Edge in Gloucestershire. A very heavy fall of snow commenced as the coach left Bath. We had a bitter cold ride. Arrived at Wootton by one o’clock. The snow had ceased falling. Dined with Remy Lacey, a real good Radical and founder of the Wootton Association. After dinner Burns and I walked to the room of the Association — spoke to the people briefly, and were loudly applauded. The Wootton people are very intelligent and will soon upset the aristocratic power of the neighbourhood. At three o’clock a procession was formed, consisting of about 3000 persons, headed by an excellent band of music, with beautiful banners, flags, &., and proceeded through the town up to the Chipping, where a wagon was placed as accomodation for the speakers. [Meeting chaired by Henry Lacey; Burns and Vincent spoke] We returned to our inn in procession, and spent the evening in the company of 200 ultra rads. “Fall, tyrants, fall” was sung by the whole company in famous style. We separated about eleven o’clock.

THURSDAY, March 7. — Rose at seven — broke our fast in the cottage of Richard Skelton. Skelton is a stout, sturdy, six-foot Radical. … At ten we left Wootton for Cirencester, Gloucestershire. We reached Cirencester about three. The town is very neat and clean — the population about 7000. A meeting was convened for six in the evening, in the Market-place. At six, Burns and myself walked to the place of meeting. We found upwards of 4000 persons assembled. The agricultural labourers poured in from the surrounding villages. The town was in a very excited state. One man said such a stir had not been created since the town was taken by Prince Rupert. …. Burns and myself addressed the meeting at great length. An attempt was made by half-a-dozen “gentlemen” to interrupt the meeting, by throwing stones at the speakers. I had one capital knock — it did me more good than an electric shock. The people soon silenced the “gentlemen”. Al the resolutions were carried unanimously, and measures were adopted for obtaining signatures to the petition, and for collecting the National Rent. Burns and myself were elected Delegates. We had a great number of ladies present. God bless them!

Henry Vincent, ‘Life and Rambles’, in the Western Vindicator , no.4 (16th March 1839), p.1

Teetotal Chartists
Looking for the Charter “at the bottom of a glass of water”?

Both Lovett and Henry Vincent (an abstainer since 1836) appear to have been confirmed in their anti-alcohol beliefs by their experiences of prison, and in December 1840 Vincent would initiate an address arguing that the aristocracy ruled only because of the vices of the poor and that Chartists must therefore become teetotallers.

The address was widely disseminated, being published in full in the Northern Star, English Chartist Circular and the Odd Fellow, and it produced an enormous response, encouraging Chartists in many parts of the country to establish teetotal Chartist bodies alongside local branches of the National Charter Association, or to incorporate abstinence from alcohol within the objectives of their NCA branch.

Among the 135 signatories to the address were such other Chartist luminaries as Charles Neesom of the London Working Men’s Association, the bookseller and publisher John Cleave, and Henry Hetherington, the veteran campaigner against a stamped press and key ally of Lovett.

In “Teetotal Chartism”, a paper for the journal History (vol 58 no 193, June 1973) Brian Harrison wrote of the address:

“Judging by its signatories, Teetotal Chartism was strongest in the North of England. One hundred and thirty of the 135 signatories are known; of these, 48 came from Yorkshire, 26 from Lancashire, 20 from the Midlands, 13 from the Potteries, nine from London, four from Scotland, three from Ireland, two from Sunderland, two from Wotton-under-Edge and one from Brighton. But London had at least five Teetotal Chartist societies – at Bermondsey, Lambeth, Cheapside, Beak Street and East London.”

The East London Chartist total Abstinence and Mutual Instruction Society was led by Charles Neesom and his wife Elizabeth Neesom, who also founded the London Female Democratic Association and was the leading light in an East London Female Total Abstinence Society.

Teetotal Chartism was also strong in Scotland. In response to Vincent’s address Scottish Chartists used the Chartist Circular of 9 January 1841 to issue their own call to “dedicate this year to total abstinence”. Their own address was signed by 101 Scottish Chartists, including some of the movement’s leading figures.

On the other side of the argument, Peter McDouall would condemn the teetotal movement at the National Charter Association’s 1842 convention as “more of a religious than a political body”.

His views were firmly in line with those of Feargus O’Connor, who in the face of a rapid advance by teetotal Chartism and Lovett’s New Move denounced church, teetotal, knowledge and household suffrage Chartism as “trick, farce, cheat or humbug”. All were, he warned, distractions and potentially divisive, raising the spectre that those who were not Christian Chartists or teetotal Chartists might be judged not good enough for the vote.

His intervention was enough to prevent Warrington Chartists establishing a teetotal body, but marked a decisive split with Lovett and his supporters.

But the anti-teetotal line was about more than the personalities of leading Chartists and their positions within the movement. More politically advanced Chartists believed that Chartism could triumph only by organising and confronting its opponents in the ruling class.

Much later, speaking in Manchester on 20 October 1850 after his release from prison, the Chartist leader Ernest Jones told the crowd: “Some will tell you that teetotalism will get you the Charter: the Charter don’t lie at the bottom of a glass of water.” In the same speech, he marked his change of political stance by warning the authorities that before his imprisonment, “I spoke of a green flag waving over Downing-street.  I have changed my colour since then—it shall be a red one now”.

Signatories to Henry Vincent’s address on teetotalism

Members of the late General Convention
Henry Vincent, late Resident in Oakham Gaol
John Cleave, 1 Shoe Lane, Fleet Street
Henry Hetherington, 126 Strand
C H Neesom, 76 Hare Street, Bethnal Green
W Rider, Leeds
J Harris, London (late of Brighton)

Political victims
Rev W J Jackson, now of Lancaster Castle
W Shellard of Ponty Pool, Wales; now resident in Oakham Gaol, Rutlandshire
W Edwards of Newport (Mon.) now in Oakham Gaol
G E Boggis, Brick Lane, London
Messrs Williams and Binns, Sunderland
Isaac Johnson, now resident in Chester Castle
RD Lacey, Wotton under Edge
H R Lacey, ditto
G M Bartlett, Bath
R Spurr, London

Perry, ‘Wotton-under-Edge, Times Past – Time Present’, 1986, pages 136 –6:

‘Within a few years the desire for further reform found expression in the People’s Charter, calling for votes for all adults, the payment of M.P. s and the secret ballot. The driving course was the London Working Men’s Association. Henry Vincent, a fiery orator, was sent to do missionary work in the West of England and a Chartist newspaper, the Western Vindicator, published in Bristol, circulated in this district. Early in 1839 branches of the W.M.A. and its complement, the Radical Women’s Association, had been established in Wotton.

The moving spirits were Henry and Rowland Lacey, sons of a prosperous local family, and Joseph Witts, a weaver. On Whit Tuesday a great Chartist meeting was held on Selsley Common, near Stroud. The Wotton contingent marched there in good order led by a band and members banners inscribed ‘Liberty, Equal Rights and Equal Laws’, a slogan alarmingly reminiscent of the French Revolution though harmless enough to modern ears. The meeting was addressed by Witts, who stressed the importance of action within the law, and by Rowland Lacey, calling for economic sanctions such as the mass withdrawal of savings from banks and a general strike. At the close, the Wotton members reformed and marched home as a disciplined body.

Lord Segrave (Colonel Berkeley’s new title) wrote to the Home Office that Wotton was the stronghold of Chartism in Gloucestershire. Joseph Witts was busy founding Chartist branches in Uley and other villages. In July Henry Vincent came here to address meetings on Wotton Hill and in the Chipping; he belonged to that section of the Chartists advocating violent means. ‘Pull down the Palaces of Tyranny with your own hands… pull down their castles’. Lord Segrave, feeling himself threatened, wrote again to the home Office asking for leave to recruit a troop of Berkeley Yeomanry, to be commanded by Grantley, to combat ‘the spreading poison’ which was beginning to infect agricultural workers as well as unemployed weavers.

Henry Lacey and Joseph Witts were charged with attending an illegal meeting and were sent for trial to Gloucester, but the case was postponed until spring. Those leaders of the Wotton establishment, including Eusebius Foxwell and T.S. Childs of the Tabernacle, who had given evidence against them, were the objects of noisy demonstrations in the town; they were followed around by a crowd of up to two hundred persons, ‘abusing them in the coarsest terms’, kept within bounds only by the extraordinary authority of Rowland Lacey.

In the meantime Henry Vincent had been tried in Monmouth and committed to Newport Gaol. Chartists in Wotton were in daily expectation of a national rising. Three secret meetings were held at the Red Lion and a delegate was sent to the clandestine Chartist headquarters; the proceedings were reported by a government spy. Though there had been talk of joining, no one from Wotton took part in the Chartist march to Newport Gaol, in which twenty-four persons died. When, early in 1840, many Chartists involved in the Newport attack were imprisoned or transported, the movement in Wotton seems to have died. Though Chartism continued in the eighteen-forties, the emphasis was on peaceful propaganda; there is no information about its survival in Wotton. Henry Lacey and Joseph Witts were bound over to keep the peace.’

I knew of Mick and I knew of Nick,
But I didn’t know of your existence,
Until early one morning on the number 46 bus,
When I was reading a Swindon Town programme.

It was back in 1992,
And you told me that Nicky was your nephew,
And I looked at you, someone I had never met or seen before,
And I asked you the next obvious, but risky question:
And it turned out that, yes, you were a boyhood hero’s brother,
You were the brother of Buzzer:
You were Mick Summerbee’s brother!

And it was the best conversation I have ever had on a bus
With someone I had never met before,
It was electric empathy and just the ticket,
As I told you of how I had seen best mates Mick and Ernie Hunt,
Grave-digging, back in the close season maximum wage early 1960’s,
When I was train spotting on Swindon Junction’s Milk Bank,
And how I missed some important engine numbers,
Just so I could watch them walk down the street to the café,
And how Mick and Ernie and Donald Rogers were my idols,
And how Mick had given up his time to coach Swindon Boys,
And had actually passed the ball to me in training,
And I didn’t want to clean my boots for a week, oh no,
And all this came out in a stream of consciousness,
And at no point did I ask about you, who you were,
As a person, as an individual, as John Summerbee,
As Mr. John Summerbee.
But it didn’t bother you,
And we always said hello in the streets or on the ‘bus,
Or when out walking the dogs in the valleys and fields,
Or having our hair cut in Summerbee’s salon.

But I knew nothing of your boyhood, until one Christmas,
When I read Colin Shindler’s book,
And it’s then I read of your dad, George,
And his struggles to make it as a footballer,
The dream move from Aldershot to Proud pre-war Preston,
Going sadly wrong, with wage cuts and wage slavery
And demoralising constant reserve team football:
Obscurity instead of fame, the struggle to make ends meet,
The drop down the divisions, as the body slowed down,
The youthful dream of stardom turned to non-league dust,
While your mum, Dulcie, coped with all the moves
And temporary homes of a travelling journeyman footballer.

And I read of your real life as John, your dad’s favourite son,
In whose shadow, Mick nervously walked,
For you were the better footballer and cricketer,
Until you were shattered by George’s early worn out death,
All dreams ruined at the tender age of just forty.
It’s then you turned your back on sport, and used your other talents,
For you were a star carpenter and joiner, too;
And even though I never met your dad,
And have only seen the photographs and read of him in a book,
The handsome dapper young man in his hand cut suits,
With shoes as shiny as a new pin, that you could see the faces in,
I see you in Stroud, immaculately turned out,
And now I know that I am not just looking at Mr. John Summerbee –
But I am also looking at George’s favourite son,
Walking in no one’s shadow, but his own and his dad’s.