Bourne Diary - June 2007

Saturday 2^nd June 2007

Rubbish blocking the Bourne Eau - see "Drawing attention to . . . "

The status of Bourne Town Council has been debated in recent days and there are two schools of thought, one that it should be expanded and another that it should be abolished.

Contributors to the Forum, for instance, have been quite scathing about its existence suggesting, quite correctly by the way, that it is little more than a glorified parish council. It was also pointed out that although councillors would like more media coverage of their debates and decisions, the public is not impressed by their activities and have no sense of involvement with them and even when a large number of people attend, as happened in the cemetery chapel debate earlier this year, the opportunity to capitalise on this interest appears to be lost on individual members and indeed the council as a whole. In fact, the entire proceedings were dismissed as “pompous”, and that perception cannot be good for the council’s image.

The proposition for enlargement comes, naturally enough, from the council itself for all local authorities are proponents of the various clauses of Parkinson’s Law, in this case that those employed within a bureaucracy wish to multiply their numbers irrespective of the amount of work to be done.

The authority has fifteen councillors, although one seat is currently unfilled, covering two wards, the East and the West, but members have decided to approach the Electoral Commission seeking a review of the parish boundaries with a view to establishing a third ward, a change that would allow for the creation of yet more seats. They claim that the additional representation is required because the building of the 2,000-home Elsea Park residential estate has resulted in the East Ward becoming bigger than the West Ward, thus creating an imbalance in representation and the formation of an additional ward would remove this anomaly.

Electoral boundaries are normally reviewed every ten years but the last one for Bourne took place in 1996 and so councillors argue that a revision is long overdue and that three wards will more accurately reflect Bourne’s increasing population, currently estimated at around 15,000. Whether electoral expansion of this nature is a wise alternative to simply redrawing the boundaries to even up the two existing wards is open to conjecture but it certainly does not appear to win public approval.

With fifteen seats on offer at the local elections only a few weeks ago, there were only just sufficient candidates to call an election in the East Ward but even less in the West Ward where seven candidates were returned unopposed and there is still one seat vacant and likely to be filled by co-option because interest in standing is at such a low ebb.

It seems obvious, therefore, that before undertaking drastic changes to the very heart of the electoral system in Bourne, the town council ought to be making efforts to stimulate a greater interest in its activities in the hope of drawing more people in rather than embarking willy-nilly on empire building without laying the required foundations. After all, it is not an important local authority in the wider scheme of things, having little real power and a budget hardly as big as that of a corner shop, although it is the first point of contact for the electorate and does have an input on planning and other matters handled by South Kesteven District Council.

The priority would appear to be a makeover by the town council to rid itself of the clique reputation that has built up in recent years and although the new faces that have appeared as a result of the recent elections will help in this direction there is still much to be done on this front. For instance, there are some councillors whose time has come to retire gracefully and to persuade the younger people in this town that this is their opportunity and they be offered every assistance to assume office. Until that happens, there should be no talk of expanding boundaries and increasing seats in the council chamber because they will either be empty or filled with the friends of those already there and this cannot be good for either democracy or for Bourne.

Drawing attention to black spots littered with rubbish and areas defaced by graffiti is not welcomed by those who run our affairs because it highlights their shortcomings whereas an efficient administration which kept our town tidy would preclude such criticism. But we do not live in an ideal world and as most public bodies are rarely that competent, they are likely to face continual complaint.

The state of the Bourne Eau where it runs through the Wellhead Gardens is a particular area of concern that has been publicly condemned many times over the past few years yet nothing is done, especially to that section of river alongside the site of the old water cress beds that has become a dump for all manner of debris which is blocking the free flow of the waterway as well as turning the area into an unsightly mess. The problem was highlighted as long ago as June 2003 but the situation has since become far worse as my latest photograph demonstrates.

There was a time when the Bourne Eau was an attractive watercourse, when people walked its banks on Sunday afternoons and anglers fished there, and on special occasions, decorated gondolas provided pleasure trips and courting couples walked along the footpath. But none of this happens today. The banks are overgrown, there are few fish and boats would have great difficulty in navigating any distance.

This is a river of which we should be proud because it is part of our heritage. Around this water source sprang up the communities that have lived here over the centuries when it gave vital supplies to the Romans and Saxons, the Danes and the Normans, and now the people who live here today. The very name Bourne stems from this water supply because St Peter's Pool, which lies at its source, is possibly one of the most ancient of artesian wells in the country and has figured prominently in the development of the town.

Bourne takes its name from the Old English word burna which was common in the early Anglo-Saxon period and is found in its modern form, particularly in Scotland, as burn meaning stream or spring. Many other English place names have a similar derivation with burn, borne or bourne as an ending to denote a river or stream in the vicinity. The river is therefore part of Bourne's history and it is our duty to look after what has been handed down to us.

The blame for the current situation lies with those responsible for its upkeep, whether they are riparian owners such as Bourne United Charities or a public utility such as Anglian Water, which is only interested in the water produced, yet it is up to them to honour their commitments and keep this waterway in good order, not only for the benefit of the community but also as a matter of good housekeeping. But it has become obvious that what was once a delightful feature has become an eyesore and, regrettably, on past record, the prospect of some improvement appears to be most unlikely.

What the local newspapers are saying: There has been another case of criminal damage at Bourne Football Club’s premises on the Abbey Lawn, this time on Wednesday night when intruders broke in and set light to a red canister of petrol on the grandstand. In a front page report, The Local says that a vigilant member of the Bourne Town Bowls Club, which has greens nearby, spotted the blaze and raised the alarm and so serious damage to the property was avoided (June 1st).

Similar incidents have occurred on the club’s premises several times over the past few years and officials of the six sports clubs who use the ground are anxious for something to be done. Terry Bates, chairman of the Abbey Lawn Action Committee which is currently considering increased security arrangements, articulated their desperation and the feelings of the public when he told the newspaper: “Strong, decisive and immediate action has to be taken by the powers that be. They will receive the utmost support from the clubs. How many times do we have to plead for action?”

Problems with damage to the Abbey Lawn and its facilities have escalated over the past three years and Mr Bates said that Lincolnshire Police should combat the vandalism. He told the newspaper: “Unfortunately, the Community Support Offices (CSOs) who currently patrol the town have little authority to deal with all of the problems and recent publicity about the success of neighbourhood policing had a hollow ring. They are paying lip service to the problems. Parents also need to support us. I am sure many of them don’t know what their children are getting up to.”

Few would argue with this and it is now feared that the nine foot high metal fence currently planned around the grounds by Bourne United Charities which administers the Abbey Lawn will not deter the culprits and the first act of vandalism that occurs after it has been installed will prove that the £50,000 expenditure will have been wasted. Only increased police supervision and stricter parental control will solve the problem.

Another book about our Saxon hero has appeared but as The Legend of Hereward is a work of historical fiction rather than factual research, it takes us no further forward in establishing whether the rebel who excelled in derring-do actually existed or owes his romantic reputation to past novelists with a colourful imagination.

The author of this latest work is Mike Ripley, a writer of crime fiction, and the book has received an excellent review from Lincolnshire-born author Colin Dexter, he of Inspector Morse fame, in the June issue of The Oldie magazine, who writes that the author tells his tale of circa AD 1100 through Thomas of Ely, with added commentaries a century later by Gerald of Wales who has been commissioned by a minor nobleman, Baldwin Wac (should that be Wake?), to supply a family tree traceable back to Hereward, all of which sounds rather like the many requests I get for help from amateur genealogists in the United States anxious to establish similar claims.

Was he a Saxon hero?, asks Dexter and then answers his own question: “Well, he was moody, merciless and occasionally magnificent - a bit like Achilles, I suppose. Like Odysseus, too - rich in martial craftiness in both Flanders and East Anglia, short and stocky, with blond beatnik-style hair, he seems to have mesmerised his enemies with a pair of mysterious eyes and a deadly unpredictable smile before joyously dismembering men and horses alike with his heavyweight sword. A born leader, and a loved leader; yet his brutal life was dominated by a genetically selfish passion to repossess estates at Bourne, to which, it appeared, he had no legal rights whatsoever.”

The book is published by Severn House at £18.99 and will no doubt be on the shelves when Walker’s open their new bookshop in North Street later this summer. Whether you believe in the Hereward legend or not, Colin Dexter suggests that this fierce tale will appeal to youngies and oldies alike.

Thought for the week: Nurture your mind with great thoughts; to believe in the heroic makes heroes. - Benjamin Disraeli, the first Earl of Beaconsfield, British author, statesman and prime minister (1804-1881).

Saturday 9^th June 2007

Repairs to the roof of the Old Grammar School - see "What the local
newspapers are saying . . . "

Vandalism and anti-social conduct at the Abbey Lawn and elsewhere has shocked many people but it is by no means a new phenomenon. There are many similar cases recorded over the centuries and the stigma of public censure was generally regarded as the best solution.

Like all towns, Bourne had its stocks where wrongdoers would be locked in by the legs and pelted with stones, rotten fruit and bad eggs. They stood at the edge of the market place at the top of what is now Abbey Road together with a whipping post and an entry in the register of the Bourne Quarter Sessions for 22nd April 1688 records one such punishment by this means.

Daniel Summerby, a slater, who was perhaps our most infamous tearaway, was brought before the justices for rowdy and disorderly conduct in the town on a number of occasions, and the magistrates ordered that he ". . . being a person of an ill life and conversation and also being very malicious, desperate and unruly, so that complaint hath been made by the inhabitants his neighbours made unto us this day. It is therefore ordered that the constable of the said town of Bourne do upon his next excursion or disturbance seize and carry him to the common whipping post, there to be whipped till blood come, and so at all times hereafter, serve him as shows himself dangerous or desperate to the hazard or trouble of his neighbourhood."

It is not known when the whipping post disappeared but we also had a set of stocks that were dismantled around 1850. A tradesman in the town, well known for his practical jokes, was passing the churchyard one night and saw some bricks and mortar close to a small cottage which then stood nearby and he used them to block up the windows with the result that the occupants were late rising next morning, thinking that it was still dark. The Stamford Mercury subsequently reported "this dastardly outrage" and suggested that the culprit should be apprehended and put in the stocks but a few nights later, the same tradesman and a companion dismantled them and threw them in the moat section of the Bourne Eau. Thus ended the stocks in Bourne and with no one regretting their disappearance, they were not replaced.

Birching was another public punishment that survived well into my lifetime and I can remember, as a schoolboy in the 1930s, three classmates who had been involved in a murder being sentenced to be birched followed by a spell in Borstal. The last known case in Bourne was recorded in 1923 when magistrates, sitting at a special children’s court on July 26th, “deplored the depravity” of a boy charged with indecent assault on a girl under seven years of age and ordered him to be punished with four strokes of the birch rod and bound the father over in the sum of £5 for his boy to be of good behaviour for six months.

Physical punishment and humiliation is still practised in many parts of the world during the dispensation of justice but has long since disappeared in this country in favour of rehabilitation and re-education although there is still a lively body of opinion that regularly puts the case for its return as a quick and effective means of retribution.

What the local newspapers are saying: A front page comment feature in The Local highlights the dangers to some of our old buildings and the tenuous chance they have for survival (June 8th). Under the banner headline “Save our heritage”, editor Lisa Bruen cites the case of the Old Grammar School which is Grade II listed yet neglected for the past 30 years, and although roof repairs are now being carried out to make it watertight, the work will not secure its future. The present owners, Bourne Educational Foundation, stress that the £5,000 being spent is merely a means of helping to find a buyer although restricted access through the churchyard does not add to its appeal to any prospective purchaser. The property is part of this town’s history, dating back to 1678 and a reminder of the beginnings of secondary school education, but maintenance has not kept pace with its important status while the future remains uncertain and reliant entirely on philanthropy and goodwill rather than hard cash.

The newspaper also mentions the Victorian cemetery chapel, recently listed Grade II to prevent the town council from pulling it down and although it should now be seeking ways of preserving it for future community use and finding the necessary finance through grant aid, progress is extremely slow and councillors appear to lack the will to speed things up even though public feeling about its restoration has been amply demonstrated on more than one occasion. There is a similar air of despair over The Croft in North Road, once a grand family home from the 1920s but now empty, derelict and slowly deteriorating because of a dispute over planning permission for new homes on the adjoining meadowland.

Lisa Bruen makes the significant connection between the present and the past in our town and comes to a conclusion that ought to be obvious to all who run our affairs because she writes: “With new buildings appearing at a rapid rate in Bourne, the importance of preserving our heritage and the character of the town has become even more pressing.”

But who is listening? The future of all of these buildings is in doubt, even the cemetery chapel which was listed by the Department of Culture, Media and Sport (DCMS) on the recommendation of English Heritage specifically because plans were afoot to pull it down yet we are told that the town council is under no obligation to restore it. Indeed, the Stamford Mercury reports the clerk to the council, Mrs Nelly Jacobs, as saying that although the chapel had been listed, this did not mean that it could not be demolished (June 8th).

This is indeed possible although listed building consent would be required but the town council would place itself in an untenable position were it to revert to the previous policy of destroying the chapel. Councillors must remember that the people, and indeed the government, have spoken quite vociferously on this issue and only a concerted and dedicated effort to refurbish the building and restore it for future community use will ensure that the authority has any credibility in the future.

Among those national newspapers printing indignant accounts about the misuse of telephone charges last month was our most revered publication The Times. On May 10th, for instance, it reported public concern about the high costs being foisted on viewers and that the use by broadcasters of exorbitant charge numbers was being investigated by both Ofcom and Icstis, the two organisations regulating communications and premium rate services, after a series of scandals involving popular programmes, including Richard & Judy.

It was then with some dismay that we opened our copy of this revered newspaper on Saturday to find a scratch card enclosed offering a £1 million prize and various other cash incentives if the hidden symbols matched which, surprise, surprise, they did and we were then invited to telephone a given number to claim. But the small print at the bottom informed us that calls cost £1.50 a minute and “would last no longer than 6 minutes” which by my reckoning is £9 for a prize that would obviously not materialise.

This is an outrageous method of extracting cash from the gullible, the trusting and the unsuspecting perpetrated by what was once a highly respected and influential newspaper. Imagine the result if children, who are particularly susceptible to this type of invitation, were to find the scratch card and used the telephone to file a claim. The Times has enjoyed a reputation as the nation’s moral arbiter and has been bought with confidence by many people with families but to find this insertion has cost them their reputation in this household and I imagine, many others.

A few days ago, the newspaper carried a leader about our banks in relation to overcharging and other suspect practices under the heading “Dirty, rotten banks”, a description I never expected to see, having been brought up in a world where these financial institutions were the acme of propriety and client respect. Newspapers have enjoyed a similarly honourable reputation of reliability but this too has been eroded in recent years and now we see them grubbing for money along with the deceitful, even criminal, companies that frequent the public communications systems, whether it be telephony or the murky recesses of the Internet while the public is continually being financially coerced and intimidated by central government, local councils, the public utilities and commercial organisations.

If the newspaper truly wishes to join the crusade against the scams and rip-offs that haunt our daily lives then this type of inducement should be railed against rather than embraced. In the meantime, those who continue to buy The Times should beware of Greeks bearing gifts.

After shopping on a hot afternoon in Bourne on Tuesday, my wife suggested that we buy an iced lolly and enjoy it in the cool and green surroundings of the Wellhead Gardens, our regular haunt for a seat in the shade throughout the year and especially in the summer months, and so we popped into McColl’s in North Street and joined the crush of schoolchildren around the refrigerated cabinet at the front of the shop.

It was packed with ice creams of every shape and size and, totally bewildered by the array, I pointed at a fruit concoction on a stick while my wife chose a similar offering of chocolate and coconut. But anticipation turned to dismay at the till when the assistant demanded £2.50, an exorbitant amount for what was little more than frozen water with added confection and so they want back into the cabinet and we departed empty handed.

Where, I thought, were the iced lollies of yesteryear, both for little more than a penny in old money, when they were 240 to the £, and no doubt tasted much better and made without so many strange ingredients to keep them looking fresh and appetising. We still went for our sit down in the Wellhead Gardens and after pondering on the soaring cost of these small luxuries and wondering who on earth could afford to buy them, decided to have our treat on the patio at home and so we called in at Sainsburys and bought a whole tub of strawberry and vanilla ice cream for £1.65, enough for a couple of servings each on several days, and a small tin of strawberries into the bargain which between them did not amount to the same money demanded by McColl’s. By all means have your pleasures but shop wisely and you will enjoy them without that nagging feeling that you have been robbed.

From the archives: John Close, a labourer, aged 22, appeared before the county sessions held at the Town Hall, Bourne, on 3rd April 1838, accused of breaking into the Eastgate shop of William Watson and stealing five loaves of bread, a pound’s weight each of cheese, tobacco, tea, sugar, candles and other articles, and of stealing an earthen pancheon [a shallow milk bowl], the property of John Phillips, a grocer of Church Street, and of stealing thirteen fowls, the property of John Osborn, of North Street. He was sentenced to be transported for 10 years and sailed for New South Wales in 1839 aboard the ship John Barry.

Thought for the week: House prices in Britain could rise to the equivalent of ten times the average salaries by 2026 and to avoid this, more homes must be built in order to boost supply. - results of a study by the National Housing and Planning Advice Unit, a newly-established government think tank, quoted by BBC Online, Thursday 7th June 2007.

Saturday 16^th June 2007

Fictional villages are the stuff of English literature and can be found in many novels, the authors not wanting to identify perhaps with their home territory and finding it easy to create characters and events without running the risk of clashing with reality.

It was therefore inevitable that the Internet would eventually be blessed with a make believe place of bucolic charm and this has arrived with a web site devoted to Gypping in the Marsh, the cabbage capital of Lincolnshire, its exact location indeterminate but probably lying somewhere in the fenland brassica triangle which embraces the black soil growing areas around Boston, Spalding and Market Deeping. Somewhere, in fact, quite close to Bourne.

Someone, purportedly Gilbert Murray, has been burning the midnight oil to produce this excellent spoof because it is elegantly written and professionally produced and anyone from within the area that I have described will find something that matches their own locality because the author appears to have trawled every village web site to source and then parody his material.

We are told that Gypping in the Marsh is an ancient village where artefacts that have been unearthed are proof of its antiquity while Charles II granted it an earldom which resulted in the construction of Hemlock Hall where his descendants [not ancestors, Gilbert] still live today. The potted history of the village takes us through the familiar territory of the Dutch engineers draining the fens, the industrial revolution and the coming of the railways and thus into the 20th century and although it remains small and remote, industries abound although failing to disrupt the slow, quiet pace of life.

The village church is dedicated to St Bodkin, dating back to Saxon times and we are informed that the vicar is particularly proud at having the largest organ in Lincolnshire and never misses an opportunity to show it off to anyone who is interested. However, the vast majority of villagers now adhere to the writings of the Great Prophet Noel, founder of the Church of Zeal or No Zeal and as well as enjoying the benefit of ritual scourging and excoriation once a month to rid them of their sins, the congregation prove their loyalty by donating one quarter of their earnings to the church and agreeing to leave their entire estates to the Great Prophet Noel after their deaths.

Important dates in the life of Gypping in the Marsh include the Feast Day of St Bodkin and the May Day Wicker Bunny Burning while Hemlock Hall remains one of the grandest stately piles in the county and currently home to Lord Murray, the 18th Earl of Gypping, and his wife, Lady Elizabeth. When he succeed the 17th earl, Lord Murray inherited substantial debts but has striven to maintain the house and prevent it from sinking into a state of total dereliction by pursuing a number of promising business deals, most of them hailing from West Africa, for some reason. The 18th Earl regularly opens Hemlock Hall to the public during the spring and summer months and although all are welcome, the public are requested not to walk on the grass or pick the cabbages.

Local businesses are given their own page but ownership is dominated by Gilbert Murray who is listed as running an introduction agency, a poultry processing plant, rubber company, hotel, bakery, butchery, brewery and undertakers, while filling in his spare time as a sign writer and running a massage parlour and a clinic for people with sexual problems.

This web site is an absolute delight and I would be flattered to think that some inspiration has come from this one. I would also hazard a guess at the creator but perhaps his real identity is best kept secret.

Anyone who has been trapped inside a revolving door will know what it is like to telephone the BT Broadband Helpline because the experience is time consuming, frustrating and eventually gets you nowhere. The advice suggested is utterly useless to the point of hindrance and it is incredible that an enormous and wealthy corporate organisation should allow this totally unhelpful facility to even exist unless it is their contribution to the relief of Third World unemployment because it operates from a call centre in far away Mumbai, better known as Bombay.

How someone from a distance of almost 5,000 miles can help when problems develop on a home computer in South Lincolnshire is difficult to imagine but when that happens then appeals to BT are automatically put through to this beehive of inactivity in India where politeness rules but technical ignorance reigns.

When my router began to flicker and cut off intermittently, I sensed a problem and rather than let it develop into a crisis, used the BT Helpline chat facility to find a remedy but the palaver that ensued convinced me never again to go down that road. During my consultation, the person dealing with it changed twice and I had to go through everything again and the replies were little more than a repetition of various sections of the instruction book that came with the equipment, all of which I had tried but had failed to solve the problem.

Patiently, I explained this and after two hours we agreed that the fault was either with the router or the telephone wiring at which point Mohammed (for it was he) unbelievably told me that I needed to hire an engineer to check it out. It was at this point that I knew I was wasting my time for the thought of engaging a local electrician to shin up the telegraph pole in the street outside the house and check on the cables would have given BT management apoplexy and probably landed the tradesman in court.

I therefore terminated the consultation, and not wishing to be churlish, said that I would leave the case open but report any further problems immediately. Imagine then, when I noted the closing comments on my consultation from the call centre which said: “Case successfully resolved”. And so BT’s case history is unblemished by my frustrating Sunday morning encounter and the troublesome router continues to flicker and occasionally cut off. Ah well, win some lose some!

What the local newspapers are saying: Bourne seems to have missed out yet again, firstly on a new town centre and now on a second petrol station. The Local devotes its front page to the latest fiasco with a report (June 15th) on the termination of negotiations between South Kesteven District Council and Henry Davidson Developments who were supposed to be building this much needed facility on three acres of commercial land in South Road, together with other roadside amenities including a drive through restaurant and family public house, proposals for this site that have been under scrutiny since 1999 when it was originally mooted as a £10 million business park.

Henry Davidson, you will remember, is the company ditched by SKDC for the redesign of Bourne town centre in August 2006 and eyebrows were raised when the company was chosen for this development. But they were dropped from that too last October because of delays in exchanging contracts although by January they were back in favour and in May, outline planning permission was granted and preliminary work began. Now the company has been ditched yet again after the council’s six-member cabinet met in secret last week and decided to pull out of the deal.

Council leader Linda Neal (Bourne West) explained to the Stamford Mercury, which also gives the story front page treatment, that a deadline had been set for the exchange of contracts and the developers missed it. “We gave them an extension and then they missed that”, she said. “We have to act in the best interests of the council tax payers.”

The question now being asked is why SKDC continued to deal with this company after it had pulled out of the town centre development, thus delaying the project by several years. This decision has never been fully explained and the authority has a duty to the electorate to provide more details on both counts while the cost of these delays must be growing by the month. Newly elected councillor Trevor Holmes (Bourne West) expressed this concern when he told The Local: “The fact that the council has allowed negotiations to go on for so long and allowed the prospective buyers to work on the land only to abandon it at the very last minute will cause great distress. A lot of public money has been spent so far, all to no useful outcome.”

It is therefore back to the drawing board and as the council starts again to find a new developer, Bourne remains a one petrol station town.

Queuing achieved notoriety during the Second World War of 1939-45 when waiting to be served in shops became a way of life because rationing had created so many shortages of food and the other necessities of life. The nation even learned to laugh at itself and queuing became the butt of music hall and radio jokes.

When peace came and supplies were more readily available, waiting an interminable time to be served soon became a thing of the past although those days are slowly coming back but for different reasons. Higher salaries, shorter working hours and the quest for more profit has resulted in reduced staffing levels and so the wait for goods and service has been re-created with a disdain shown by many shop and service providers who know that they have captive customers because often there is nowhere else to go for what they have on offer.

Queues now form in many places around Bourne as one or two assistants battle to cope while other available checkouts are firmly closed. The main culprit in this long wait is Tesco Express in North Street which not only serves newspapers, drinks and groceries but also petrol and as this is the only fuel retail outlet in Bourne, the wait at the check out at any time of the day can often be a long one with the queue winding back down the shop and into the aisles while the forecourt and often the road outside is clogged with vehicles.

There is a system of mobilising help at busy times when harassed assistants at the checkout ring a bell to summon more staff each time a long queue forms but colleagues often do not hear or even ignore it and carry on stacking shelves or drinking tea in the staff room while customers patiently wait their turn.

The post office in West Street is another black spot with long queues in the late afternoons as local businesses send their mail for despatch and a ten or twenty minute wait for service with only two or three of six checkouts open is quite usual. Market days and Saturday mornings are similarly fraught yet nothing is done to increase the number of counter staff at peak times and so a long wait is inevitable.

Budgens have particular problems, having removed a number of their checkouts and often, when only one till is operating, customers queue up at the cigarette counter whether they have bread and meat and other groceries for here at busy times it is a case of all hands to the pumps. Sainsburys also has its off moments, particularly on Saturday mornings just before midday when half of the checkouts are for some reason closed while customers with loaded trolleys jockey for a position at the remaining outlets.

There are many more places in and around Bourne where a long wait is necessary and it is becoming such an accepted part of the retail world that special barriers are springing up daily in shops to ensure that no one jumps the queue. Yet the strange thing is that few people ever actually complain to the management. I have seen customers walk out of the post office or drive away from Tesco Express rather than face a long queue for service but in the main, most are complaisant and wait patiently for their turn without comment. This was the attitude during the war years when there was no alternative but today there is little need to put up with poor service when, in modern parlance, customers can vote with their feet. But that is not the English way and the result is that the queues will continue and even get longer.

Thought for the week: Always be a little kinder than necessary. - J M (James Matthew) Barrie, Scottish novelist and dramatist, best remembered as the creator of Peter Pan (1860-1937).

Saturday 23^rd June 2007

The King's Head after the fire - see "What the local newspapers are saying . . . "

Heavy rain over the past few days has brought flooding to some streets although it has not been extensive, a significant change in the situation of past times when downpours of this nature caused serious problems in many parts of the town.

The turning point came in 1960 when the sewage and drainage system in Bourne was upgraded for the first time in over a century at a cost of £90,000 [£1.5 million at today’s values], mainly due to the influence of Dr George Holloway (1905-67), a member of Bourne Urban District Council and Kesteven District Council and, most importantly, chairman of the county public health committee which enabled him give a guiding hand to the project.

Until then, torrential rain frequently flooded the town centre area and tradesmen had difficulty in preventing water from gushing into their premises. Sewers were unable to cope with the increased flow and as raw sewage floated into the streets there were always fears of a health hazard with the result that Bourne Urban District Council, then the local authority responsible for these matters, sent out squads of workmen to spray disinfectant over the affected areas.

Shortly after completion, the new system was tested to the limit on Wednesday 5th October 1960 when a mid-week downpour occurred and three inches of rain fell in ninety minutes. Although it was early closing day, shopkeepers had to return to their premises to mop up and traffic was brought to a standstill as roads quickly turned into lakes, cars were stranded, shops and houses flooded and daily life totally disrupted by the downpour. The fire brigade worked non-stop in an attempt to keep the floodwater at bay but were powerless to stem the inundation.

Most streets in the town were under water but Manning Road, South Street, Abbey Road and Coggles Causeway were among the worst hit where cars were left stranded at the kerbside, mainly because they were slightly below the level of the other streets in the town. Bourne Grammar School was holding its annual Speech Day at the Corn Exchange and as guests left to go home, they found floodwater swirling around the entrance. Senior pupils volunteered to wade through it and carry some of the elderly people to dry ground while hundreds more waited inside for the water to subside.

The printing firm Warners Midlands plc in West Street had to sweep the floodwater from their premises and the Crown Inn [now Crown Walk] was also badly affected while night shift employees at Messrs Rubery Owen's machine and tool shop in the Abbey Road workshops were unable to start work until the premises had been dried out. Mr Harold Pick, baker and confectioner of West Street, said that it was among the worst storms that he could remember.

Lightning struck Bourne Hospital in South Road during the storm, cutting off the supply and causing serious damage to the electrical installations. Subsequent repairs involved rewiring the entire hospital at a cost of £5,000 [£70,000 at today's values].

But the situation was by no means as bad as it could have been prior to the installation of the new sewage and drainage system which had involved the laying of new pipes and much needed extensions to the town’s sewage disposal station and so even more serious flooding was averted, particularly in North Street. Councillor Holloway told a meeting of BUDC the following week: "If ever a town had cause to congratulate itself on the work of re-sewerage, then Bourne was that town. We cannot even think what the position would have been if we had experienced such an abnormal rainfall in the old days when the foul sewers were carrying the storm water overflow. No town could hope to deal completely with such an occurrence and the installation of sewers capable of coping with abnormal conditions like this would bankrupt the town.”

The drainage and sewerage system remained under the control of Bourne UDC until 1962 when the administration of  water and associated services passed to the South Lincolnshire Water Board. This authority came to an end and its responsibilities were handed over to the new Anglian Water Authority when it was formed in April 1974 and is now known simply as Anglian Water. Since then, the system has been continually improved and although flooding still occurs in extreme weather conditions, it has never been as bad as those scenes from forty years ago.

What the local newspapers are saying: The fire which destroyed the King’s Head at Morton, near Bourne, in the early hours of Monday dominates the front pages of the local newspapers with detailed reports of the outbreak and an assessment of the damage, all quoting police sources indicating that it may have been arson (June 22nd). Neither The Local nor the Stamford Mercury, however, can tell us exactly how old the public house is and even the owners, Charles Wells Brewery and Pub Company of Bedford, were unable to help because their records of its history have been lost and so its age is a matter of speculation.

The inn undoubtedly began life as a beer house, probably the front room of a cottage owned by a farmer and brewer with villagers as his main customers but with the coming of stagecoach travel using the Peterborough to Lincoln highway, the premises would have been extended to cater for passengers stopping for refreshment and later for overnight accommodation and the stabling of horses. In fact, a close inspection of the property reveals the various additions to the original building as it was slowly transformed into the roadside inn of today, with bars and restaurant and all modern facilities.

The name too gives an indication of its age because the King’s Head dates from the reign of Henry VIII in the 16th century. Until 1533, when the monarch was excommunicated for marrying Ann Boleyn, the Pope’s Head was a popular inn sign but all were changed to the King’s Head and this accounts for the large number still in existence today. The Morton pub, therefore, is likely to date from this period but records are few and the earliest mention from my own archive is in 1842 when James Andrew was the landlord. Nevertheless, the absence of documentary evidence should not exclude the possibility that it is much older and may therefore enjoy the reputation of an ancient country inn.

A story of local authority stupidity is reported by The Local which relates that South Kesteven District Council is refusing to empty a resident’s green wheelie bin for the disposal of garden waste because it was not supplied by them (June 22nd). John Young, of Belton Close, Market Deeping, was told that he must buy an official bin bearing the council logo for £10 before it will be accepted by their disposal service. Mr Young is quite happy to buy an official green bin but unfortunately they are not currently available and he is unlikely to get one for at least twelve months and in the meantime he has been told to leave his grass cuttings, leaves and other outside detritus in the black wheelie for dumping in a landfill site. “We cannot continue to fill our landfill sites with recyclable material just because the council want to maintain its rigid and bureaucratic policies”, he complained.

Garry Knighton, who is described as the council's street scene manager, told the newspaper: “There is a waiting list of 5,000 for green wheelies and we cannot collect non-council bins because the owner will not have paid the initial £10 charge. We would love to empty green bins for everyone but we do not have the resources at the moment.”

It is tomfool tales such as this that are not only making a mockery of SKDC’s recycling initiative but are also turning our local councils into a laughing stock. Surely there is someone in authority at Grantham who can come up with an authoritative ruling that will end this insanity.

A news item this week suggested that rose hips could provide an effective treatment for sufferers of rheumatoid arthritis because tests have revealed that seriously affected patients prescribed conventional drugs showed a significant improvement after taking capsules made with them during a six month period.

Anyone over seventy will have been nodding wisely on reading this because the beneficial effects of this remedy were well known during the war years of 1939-45 when many hours of their childhood were spent each autumn in collecting rose hips from the hedgerows. In those days of austerity, when food supplies from overseas were drastically reduced by German U-boats blockading the shipping lanes to England, every avenue to improve our nutrition from the home front was explored and apart from digging for victory by growing vegetables and fruit on every available square inch of land, anything that could be found in the countryside that might have a dietary value was collected and added to the nation’s larder.

Rose hips were a particular luxury although their harvesting was a long and often painful process. Not only are they small in size but they are the end product of the dog or wild rose, a hedgerow climber notorious for its razor sharp spikes that can tear the flesh of the unwary and even penetrate a protective glove. But experienced hands, even young ones, soon mastered the technique of gathering, usually with a hooked stick to lower the most inaccessible branches and enable the hips be safely plucked, and a couple of hours of dedicated effort could produce several baskets full of ripe fruit that would be rewarded with a few pennies from the local official of the Ministry of Food when handed in at the council offices, central point for collection and a busy place for small boys who knew every inch of the surrounding countryside and were anxious to supplement their pocket money with such pickings.

From there, the rose hips were sent to processing factories around the country to produce a thick syrup, rich in vitamin C and the campaign to collect them during the war years produced two and a half million bottles which contained as much as 25 million oranges which had become completely unobtainable.

Rose hips also contain vitamins A, D and E and their use in powder form has long been known as an easement for rheumatoid arthritis. They are the ingredient for other remedies and are attributed with the ability to prevent urinary bladder infections and assist in treating dizziness and headaches. They can be used in oil form to improve the skin and brewed into a concoction and used to treat constipation. Other uses, well known to those who know country ways, are for the creation of herbal tea, jam, jelly, syrup, beverages, pies, bread and marmalade. Even our most famous herbalist, Nicholas Culpeper (1616-54) advocated the pulp of the rose hip for strengthening the stomach, cooling the heat of fevers, for coughs, spitting blood and scurvy.

In fact, our hedgerows produce an annual healthy bounty that is today largely ignored. What was once a common source of food now seems to be a dying tradition. We rarely see anyone out picking and while the fruit rots on the stem, supermarkets sell their products for high prices. Perhaps people are too lazy to venture out and pick their own or maybe they are unaware that rose hips are a valuable food source. Whatever the reason, they are missing an autumnal treat and once tried in their many forms, will never again be missed.

Message from abroad: Bravo to Gypping in the Marsh. Never thought I'd see such humour in the Bourne Diary. I don't know what JTF would have thought about it but his granddaughter loved it! Why not a weekly joke? There is more to life than reading the daily news even though I MUST read the Ottawa Citizen or feel I have lost part of the day if I miss, some of which is unfit to read and some only serves to heighten our despondency about the present times. A person feels so good after a good bout of laughter, even if the joke is on oneself. Cheers. - email from Ethel Guertin, of Quebec, Canada, granddaughter of Joseph Tye Flatters (1841-85), the Bourne man who emigrated with his family to the New World in 1871.

Thought for the week: You must give some time to your fellow men. Even if it's a little thing, do something for others, something for which you get no pay but the privilege of doing it. - Albert Schweitzer, German theologian, musician, philosopher, and physician (1875-1965).

Saturday 30^th June 2007

The large mansion in North Road known as The Croft is taking on a distinctly dilapidated and neglected appearance, early summer and a prolonged period of heavy rain having accelerated the growth of grass and weeds in the grounds, whilst wire barriers seal off the frontage as a no go area for intruders. In short, it is despoiling the street scene along a road that was once home to the great and the good of this town with many solid houses built at the turn of the 19th century still in serviceable use today.

The dispute over the future of this property, built in 1923 as a large family home for a wealthy local corn merchant, has been in doubt since 1993 when developers applied to build new homes on the adjoining meadowland but the strength of opposition from local residents and planners alike has resulted in permission being repeatedly refused leading to the current impasse between commercial expectation and public hostility.

This is a situation that cannot, and should not, be allowed to continue. There appears to be no consultation between the two sides, the developers and South Kesteven District Council which will have the final word, unless there are ongoing talks behind the scenes to which we are not privy. Unfortunately, our elected councillors do not, or perhaps cannot, tell us what is going on as policy these days appears to be dictated by paid officials with the tacit approval of the cabinet rather than debated by the entire council and so most members as well as the public are totally in the dark as to whether any progress is being made. We must therefore assume that the stalemate continues, to the detriment of the street scene at this point and to the overall appearance of Bourne.

The main complainants in the past have been the residents of Maple Gardens whose properties are within sight of the lush green space around The Croft, a view they are reluctant to lose even though the land belongs to someone else, and in the final analysis it is really not their concern. If they owned it, would they not wish to capitalise on their investment and even be resentful towards those who objected to building houses on it?

This column has in the past resisted residential development but time changes circumstances and we therefore appeal to those who have complained to think again because the current situation is getting nowhere and is doing little for the good of this town which is about to be given the once over for a place in the East Midlands in Bloom competition and so we are hopeful that when the judges embark on their inspection route they will be politely steered away from The Croft which is, fortunately, probably well outside their area of remit.

There is nothing that can possibly happen to this property except residential development, suggestions that it might be bought for use as a hospice, a theatre or perhaps a community centre, being merely pipe dreams because these ideas would founder on the financial rocks, adding to the list of projects around the town needing both money and strength of will to succeed and in the absence of both, destined to join Bourne’s growing list of failed endeavours.

In the long run, the current deadlock can only be broken if both sides make concessions and it is hoped that some form of consultation is proceeding. To do nothing is to leave this site to degenerate further and with it the public’s reliance on those who are elected to represent them.

What the local newspapers are saying: Rarely do our local newspapers have the courage or even conviction to carry an editorial but the defection of our Conservative M P, Quentin Davies, to the Labour Party has produced strong opinions, particularly from The Local which prints its comments under the hard-hitting headline “In the name of decency he should go” (June 29th). By turning his back on his party, says the newspaper, he has no mandate to serve the constituency and should therefore stand down and let the people decide in a by-election.

The Stamford Mercury also carries a few words in a front page Viewpoint but less harsh and even unconvincing, choosing to quote “a barrage of calls for his resignation by people who voted for him in 2005 and view his actions as an act of betrayal”. The newspaper adds: “Bourne will probably not win its call for a by-election but it deserves an MP committed to the town”, a comment which rather misses the point because whatever Quentin Davies has done he has never reneged on his obligations to this town and his constituents who live here.

One of the main objectors to the M P’s change of party is Councillor Don Fisher, now regarded as an elder statesman of local politics, having served on the county, district and town authorities, as Mayor of Bourne on two occasions and, at the age of 73 and not as active as he was, still giving Trojan service to many organisations. He is one of the only surviving members of the selection committee which twenty years ago appointed Mr Davies as the Parliamentary candidate to succeed Sir Kenneth Lewis, who had held the seat since 1964, and has been a personal friend ever since and so he feels particularly aggrieved having been left to hear of the announcement of his change of party on the radio.

“I was astounded”, he told The Local. “Everybody is stunned. I know he has not been happy recently with the Conservatives or the leader David Cameron but I did not expect this from Quentin of all people. I believe any M P or councillor who changes his politics should stand again.”

Ironically, Mr Davies was about to attend a dinner in his honour to mark his twenty years as M P for the constituency, a lavish black tie occasion at a top hotel for 200 guests at £30 a ticket and with the former Tory leader, Ian Duncan Smith, as guest of honour. The event will still go ahead, appropriately on Friday 13th July, but without Mr Davies although in view of the dramatic effects of his defection, I suspect that his presence will still be felt rather like the spectre at the feast.

A seat has recently been installed on the village green at Dyke, near Bourne, in memory of Charles Broxholme, tireless worker for the community for more than half a century. It was dedicated in a simple ceremony conducted by David Stubbs, former chairman of the village hall committee and a long time neighbour, when his life was remembered by family and friends.

Charlie, as he was always known, was born at Twenty in 1920 but moved to the village with his family in 1945 and continued his career in farming, working for Richard Boaler Gibson, the Bourne corn merchant, who owned land in the area. When he died in 1958, his agricultural interests were eventually acquired by the Ash family and he remained working for them until retiring as farm foreman in 1987.

On 11th November 1950, he married Miss Pat Luesby of Bourne and she moved into his stone cottage off the village main street where they had two children, daughters Lynda and Jenny, and remained there until his death in 2005 at the age of 84. The property has been recently demolished and Pat has gone to live elsewhere in the village to enable the site to be cleared for residential development but it will be known in the future as Charlie’s Yard in his memory.

This will be a reminder of his unquestioning willingness to lend a hand, whether preparing the football pitch for matches in which he also played, a fete, or helping organise some other function, and although never a committee man, Charlie was always the first to volunteer for the task in hand. Yet he always had time for his kitchen garden where he raised vegetables of sufficient quality to win prizes at the annual produce show.

For fifty years, his readiness to help became a byword in Dyke and the wooden bench has been financed with money that had originally been contributed by friends who attended his funeral in lieu of flowers, the main beneficiaries being the village hall fund and the Baptist chapel of which he was an ardent supporter.

It is a fitting memorial to a man who became the epitome of the perfect villager and will serve as a permanent reminder of him in the heart of the place that he loved so deeply and to which he devoted so much of his life.

The strawberry season is with us and so we sample once again the succulent red fruit picked from the fields with a generous helping of fresh cream, usually a welcome diversion on a sunny afternoon on the patio but because of this week’s inclement weather, equally delightful at the kitchen table while wind and rain raged outside.

For the past ten years, we have bought our straws from a Norfolk farmer who encamps with his wife every day for four or five weeks in a lay by on the A16 between Stamford and Tallington where they regularly dispose of a van load before mid-afternoon. Until now, his charge has been £1 a punnet, and a large one at that, although the price this year went up by 0.25p but they were still a worthwhile purchase although we decided that the quality was not quite as good as in previous summers.

On Monday, we tried those on sale at Morrisons in Stamford because they were English and a large helping and although priced at £1.49, tasted much better, soft, firm and juicy, and with just the right hint of sharpness. These have been the best so far and as we will try them again, our Norfolk farmer may have lost our business. Certainly, we do not patronise him during the final weeks of his selling season because the straws on offer change to a hardier Spanish variety he grows, obviously because it reduces his costs and they have a longer storage life, but they are not quite so good, perhaps even inferior to those on sale at Sainsburys in Bourne, a store whose stocks of this favourite soft fruit are never quite up to our standard and always wildly overpriced.

When the fresh pick season is over we will revert to tinned strawberries because those which are shipped in from Spain and elsewhere during the rest of the year are usually large, hard, sour and a distinctly odd, deep red colour and have no right to the name and certainly not worth the exorbitant charges. Within a few days therefore, our fresh native straws will be no more and we must be content with the anticipation of sampling the new crop next year.

One of my first assignments as a young reporter over fifty years ago was to write a column called Peeps into the Past, an acknowledgement by my editor that his readers liked nothing better than to be reminded of times past and, better still, to see surviving photographs. Nothing has changed. Nostalgia remains a potent force, especially when it evokes memories of childhood and there is the added appeal of seeing places of memory but now long gone.

My documentary and pictorial records of Bourne expand with each year and should be shared and so I will be adding a photo feature to the front page of the web site from time to time illustrating how things were and inviting recollections from anyone who has knowledge of the places and events. You may even have photographs or documents of your own that you wish to add to our archive, now the largest of any small market town in Britain, and if so, please send me an email.

Thought for the week: Some of the worst men in the world are sincere and the more sincere they are the worse they are. - Quintin Hogg, the 2nd Viscount Hailsham, British judge, Conservative politician and Lord Chancellor (1907-2001).

Return to Monthly entries