August 2004


 

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The Society and the Journal editors do not necessarily associate themselves with the views expressed by contributors and correspondents.


This and That

If you are interested in attending the sun festivals at Stonehenge the dates are September 22nd, December 21st and March 20th.  Entry is in time to enjoy the dawn and there is no charge.  I’m told the summer solstice event went off really well helped by there being fewer people there, only 20 odd thousand as opposed to 35 thousand last year.  If you go you should always see a few members there.

I’m pleased to see that Grey Wolf seems to have had a crop circle produced for him this year.  The formation at Milk Hill, nr. Alton Barnes resembles a bee.  The formation was reported on 26th June.  You never know we might yet see Tracy’s bed appear.  (Did that go up in smoke with her tent I wonder?)

 


 

July Talk by Grahame Gardener.

Grahame’s talk was rather different to the usual ones his has given for the society in the past, being based on the life of John [Jack] Parsons, who was a scientist specialising in jet propulsion, and also a member of Aleister Crowleys Ordo Templi Orientis.  He also became very involved with L. Ron Hubbard for a time.

An extremely interesting talk, with so much information that it took me a couple of days to really take it all in!

Barbara Withers has some interesting and thought provoking comments on the talk in her article below.  S.C.


July Field Trip.

This was organised by the Earth Energies Group which is an offshoot of the B.S.D.  The Wyvern Dowsing Society was invited to partake in the event, as in previous years.

The format was similar to that of last year, when those who wished to look at and dowse crop formations could do so, and the others could join the other group which visited a number of local ancient sacred sites.  This group was led by Shaun Ogbourne.  Sites visited over the two days included Oliver’s Castle, Windmill Hill, Marden Henge and the now missing mounds, which were similar to Silbury Hill, although smaller, and West Wood, including the barrow and part of Wansdyke.

West Wood is part of Savernake Forest and is beautiful in its own right, quite apart from the dowsing possibilities.  The barrow is thought by some to be a long barrow, but some authorities suggest that it may have been a “diamond” or lozenge shape.

The weather was excellent for the whole weekend, and the crop circle dowsers were able to investigate a brand new formation. S.C.


July Talk (Another View)

I would like to thank Grahame Gardner for his fascinating talk about Jack Parsons on Monday 19th July.  On the way home, I was reminded of a visit to the Museum of Witchcraft in Boscastle, Cornwall.  This museum is well worth a visit if you’re ever in that area, as it contains a wealth of information about the history of witches, both the white and darker sides, including the hideous persecutions they suffered as a result of practising their craft.  There was also a cabinet containing some of Alistair Crowley’s magical equipment, which sent shivers down my spine, as these items still exuded his powerful personality many years after his death.  There is a motion-activated tape recording of his voice as you approach the display, and that too made me want to hurry past the cabinet.  It made me realise just how charismatic and influential he must have been in life, not to mention plain scary, until his drug addiction finally took its toll.

During Grahame’s talk I was struck by the similarities between Jack Parsons and L. Ron Hubbard, and John Dee and his associate, (whose name I forget) and I began to wonder if Dee’s ‘angel’ wasn’t some darker entity tricking him, because would a ‘heavenly being’ really encourage wife swapping? 

Sadly, power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely, which usually leads to the ‘chosen’ person’s downfall! 

This proves what powerful energies are at large in our world, and how they can affect mere mortals.  This also begs the question, what could mankind achieve if only the greater good for all were ever sought? 

For me, this reiterates the need for personal protection, especially if dowsing, as (to slightly mis-quote Shakespeare) ‘There are more things in heaven and earth than ‘ere we dream…’

Barbara Withers.


Something Brewing

Family legend has it that my great grandfather was at least mildly drunk on every day of his working life. By trade he was that other kind of alchemist: a master brewer.

He continued in business until the age of 77 when, riding out of the north gates one evening on his new penny-farthing, he overbalanced and sustained the injury which shortly afterwards brought his life to an end.

Brewing being a remorselessly convivial and celebratory trade, in his honour a new ale was introduced for the autumn, the famous Penny Farthing (ABV 4.3%).

By that time, the family fortune was long established. Ales such as the Clarion, the Soothing Drop, and the Angel had created a new demand in the South of England and the famous Stoute Brewery in Malmesbury had been built to satisfy it.

The very latest technology was employed, in the form of dray horses and steam engines, and the far corners of the empire brought forth the huge amounts of copper needed to make the three vats in which the hops are, to this day, boiled with the wort (unfermented beer).

Ironically, we never produced stout and, since the 1960s, hardly any Mild which now has only a few strongholds left, mainly in the Midlands.

Dark ales are easily adulterated with left-overs by unscrupulous pub landlords and, in any event, the public's taste has moved towards lager.

Lager is being brewed in industrial quantities by industrial methods in vats acquired from the petro-chemical sector, so I'm told, to meet the demands of the new female drinking market and younger, not to say under-aged, consumers.

But Stoute's proudly maintains its market share among lovers of traditional cask-ale. The age-old combination of malt, hops, sugar and yeast can still satisfy the age-old requirement for intoxication.

And then there is the water, of course, and my earliest acquaintance with dowsers. Almost every Victorian brewery was founded on a sweet well or a similar private, uncontaminated source of water. Burton on Trent, I need hardly say, is rich in accessible aquifers.

In 1963, an unfortunate act of pollution put paid to the Stoute well. These days such an event would produce a flurry of litigation but at the time it was put down as just one of those things, for we were a much rougher people then, more violent in our ways, more accepting of disaster.

The nearby gas holder at Malmesbury leaked from the bottom. You wouldn't think it, but gas is heavier than air, and it sank through the soil into the well, poisoning it for at least 50 years. We have it tested every winter but we're not optimistic it will ever be used again.

Then there is my own role.

Although an annuity from the business has kept me in dog biscuits for almost thirty years, it is the case that, in the day-to-day running of the brewery, no role has yet been found for me.

It is a long time since any of my ideas were welcomed at a board meeting. My postal suggestions seem to fall on deaf ears, although I did hear a rumour that Head-Banger, the 1982 winter ale (ABV 5.6%) was named with me in mind.

I am not, of course, remorselessly convivial and celebratory. Nor do I have a head for figures, despite my university degree in Economics.

When I emerged from the Varsity proudly clutching a Decent Desmond, the board at Stoute's gave me to understand that theirs was an old-fashioned world of indentures and apprenticeships. I may have been the first Stoute in higher education, but I was like a dead rat in a hop vat within the organisation.

At my Aunt Tudy's insistence, they took me on for a while. I was a little too large to go easily up and down the narrow, winding staircases at the Victorian brewery, and after a while I found myself permanently billeted in the old Customs and Excise office on the second floor.

Until some time in the 1960s, every brewery was legally obliged to provide an office for the man from the Excise, who spent every day on the premises checking specific gravities and ensuring that every drop of our expensive flavoured water was as it should be.

These good folk were as popular with businesses and the general public then as they are now, and the smallest, barest office imaginable was provided for them. No bigger than two telephone boxes placed side by side, Stoute's was made almost entirely of glass to deprive the occupier of privacy. An old barrel to sit on, and a mean writing slope were the only furniture.

I got to know the slope very well and, after a desultory summer trying to come up with slogans for the advertising boys, I left. Since then my Aunt Judy has been trying to edge me towards Accountancy or training greyhounds both of which I think would be rather fiddly.

So there I was with my idiot dowsing chums at the Ne'er Do Well and Spring in the Royal Forest of Mean on that night in early summer, gasping for a pint of "superbly consistent cask ale" and having to contend with the Well's unofficial guardians, Henmania Hill and her nine-year-old daughter Morgan.

Thinking back to my great grandfather, he would have tethered his cob to a tree, moved to the plunge-pool with unmistakable entrepreneurial zeal, and staked his claim to the water.

Henmania would have been embroidering at home in one of the new suburbs and Morgan would have been seen and not heard.

One could not help wondering whether she was the most irritating pixie of the modern era. Of course, it was hard to know what the other contenders might be like, but what could not be gainsaid was that she was very slightly beginning to get on everybody's nerves.

At the age of six, the modern child acquires an agent to help them with career and life-style choices. At ten, the agent brings in a scriptwriter and the team works to ensure that the child is always correctly positioned in relation to hipster slang, street credibility, recent audio-visual experience and major consumer trends.

Thus the child is prevented from making the same mistakes as her elders and betters. She is always cool and sassy and fill of attitood.

The same scriptwriter works for every child in the country so that wherever you go, you hear their plaintive cries: How much is that? Why can't I have one? Lizzie Perrett's father bought her one last summer!

There is no off switch. Two hours of the modern child and you want to take them up Silbury Hill in a gale and push them, still talking, over the side.

Still, I like children. They are the future. And isn't Silbury getting to be in dreadful shape? The top is caving in like the battered crown of an old hat.

If I could blame the modem child for this, I would. But I fear the dear old Hill may have been used once too often as a landing site and launch pad for extra-terrestrial vehicles, some of which, it goes without saying, are heavier than others.

Sylvia Plath was a child once, but I didn't want to think about it.

One of the worst things about modem children is the way they only binge-drink on alcopops and lager, and not traditional cask ale.

And this dreadful Continental lager scandal: it's ruining the country, frankly.

Thousands of gallons are being brought in every minute from the Continent, effectively duty-free, by opportunistic working-class men in huge white vans. Most of them have been driven to these desperate acts by the insatiable demands of their children for more spending money and trashy consumer goods.

The booze is stored briefly in lock-ups and garages and is then sold on, as if wholesale, to conniving retailers of one sort or another, who foist the goods on to a public who frankly don't care where it's coming from, as long as it's cheap.

It's just smuggling by another name. It destroys the traditional trading structure and deprives the Exchequer of much-needed income. This, in its turn, leads to increases in the price of cask ales.

Yes, the modern child has an awful lot to answer for.

Dray Wolf


The Cotswold Sundial Trail

If you are at a loose end on one of these sultry August days here is a trip out you might find interesting.  It was written in 2000 by Tony Woods for the Sundial Society, and outlines a trip around the Cotswolds looking at (you’ve guessed it) sundials.

Starting from the Agricultural College in Cirencester first head to Swindon, then to Gloucester/Cheltenham on the A417. Turn off at the roundabout signed A429/A417 ‘Fairford’, and then an immediate right fork takes you to ‘the Ampneys’ and Fairford.

The village of Ampney St. Peter (SP 081015), our first stop, provides two sundials. The first (1703) on a house to the left of the road up to the church and the church sundial itself. The church dial is unusual in having only dots marking the hours and no numerals. It is speculated that this indicates a very early dial based on mass dial practice. There are also two scratch dials on the south wall.

Next stop, Fairford (SP 151012). A large ‘wool’ church, the prosperity of local merchants providing a significant building. Its glory is its stained glass which is well worth visiting on our journey; one good mass dial on a south wall buttress is the only apparent dial. There is also a memorial to ‘Tiddles’ the church cat.

Head out of Fairford on the A417 and fork left to the Eastleaches (SP 202053). Eastleach Martin and Eastleach Turville together form a Cotswold beauty spot and have a church each. Each has a cube dial but the one at Turville is a dreadful warning about ‘restoration’, having all three gnomons ‘south shaped’ in stainless steel. Both churches have scratch dials comprising a total of about eight at the last count, all facing south.

Take the Burford road and, if you find Westwell (SP 223100) village on the way there, the church is worth a visit, having an unusual cube dial set into the wall instead of free standing as usual. Also we have a Saxon dial, carved on the tympanum over the door within the porch.

Locally, there are two (or three) more Saxon dials in Gloucestershire at Daglingworth, Saintbury (and Stowell) (SO 993050, SP 117395 and SP 1173950), the first two being carved in relief.

Burford offers plenty attractions as a small Cotswold town and is a good place to stop for refreshment. If it is a lovely sunny day, a diversion to Swinbrook (turn right halfway down Burford Hill) yields the home of the Mitfords, the River Windrush and a church with a dial over the door.

Returning to Burford, the A424 is temptingly direct but the minor road through Taynton and the Barringtons offers the chance to approach Bourton through the Rissingtons although the hills down to the Windrush valley are quite steep.

At Bourton-on-the-Water (SP 167209) it will be busy; as a noted Cotswold tourist attraction you will find tea-rooms and a large car park. Walking down to the village from the car park you come out by the Dial Post Hotel complete with magnificent cube dial and its three fancy gnomons. There is also a humble pedestal dial on the front lawn. A few yards further on and to the right is a vertical dial above the doorway of the Chestnut Gallery gift shop. It is in a very sad state and must be of very soft stone.

Bourton’s other two dials are on the road east (to Birdland). Drink at the old New Inn with its 1712 Silas Wells vertical dial or take afternoon tea at The Painted House opposite with an ornate 1660 pedestal dial in the garden.

Now we turn south and head back towards Cirencester. It is probably easiest to head towards Cheltenham/Cirencester by driving up to the A429 and turning left, follow to Cirencester and then a left turn (SP 155204) takes you to Farmington and its church. There is a sundial and a scratch dial with, unusually, numbers round the edge. Return to the A429 just above the A429/A40 (SP 114155) roundabout and take time out at Northleach if you like; (large ‘wool’ church and two or three museums).

Southwards along the A429 the Fossebridge Inn for refreshment if necessary, and then, at Foss Cross (SP 068093) just after the next crossroads a right turn (‘Calmsden and North Cerney’). It is a narrow road to Calmsden (SP 045086) and, going down the village hill, on the right is a horse trough and above it a column bearing the very weathered remains of the village dial. The gnomon roots are just visible, otherwise it would be almost unrecognisable as a sundial.

North Cerney (SP 018078) church with saddleback tower and mysterious wall carvings has two sundials, a vertical one and a rare (only two others known - Rye, Sussex and Edlingham, Northumberland) bracket dial. The root of the gnomon is still there set in lead and pointing accurately at north. Also two scratch dials by the small tower door.

An optional extra here is Daglingworth (SO 993050) to see the famous Saxon dial. The easiest way is down the A417, then turn northward again and left fork to Daglingworth. The Saxon dial is inside the porch and there is a two faced ‘prism’ dial over the porch door.

Retrace your route to the A417 and Cirencester. Go round the ring road and pick up signs for ‘Royal Ag. College’. Just before you arrive there, turn right into Deer Park College and the Sundial Theatre (SP010014). The theatre boasts a very good modern vertical dial, which came first and gave the theatre its name.

Your starting point is just across the road at the Agricultural College, thereby completing a circuit of the glorious Cotswolds.


Dowsing in the Veg. Patch.

At last August’s meeting, I gave a short talk on dowsing in the garden, and also explained a number of unusual gardening methods, ranging from the slightly wacky to the truly bizarre.  One of the methods discussed was companion planting.  I tried this with some success with some very sick-looking tomato plants, which to be honest, I didn’t think were really worth planting.  At the base of each of the plants I put a clove of garlic, [the sprouted remains of last year’s crop], about 2 inches deep.  To my delight, these tomatoes are now doing well and almost as big as the healthy plants which went in first.  There are flowers on them and it will be interesting to see what sort of crop comes off them.  Oddly enough, although I had expected the garlic to come up but not grow much, in fact there is no sign of it at all.

More on this in a later issue. S.C.


Saints Alive or Strike a Light

I started thinking about what to write for this month’s issue of the journal, and it came to me in a flash of lightening.  Literally, as it happens – a particularly spectacular summer storm raged overhead, leaving our back garden under two inches of water.  I had been hoping for rain, wondering idly if there were any successful weather forecasting dowsers about, but this amount of water was more than I had bargained for. 

I dug out the “Calendar of Festivals” book, always a useful source of information and inspiration, and turned to August.  The first thing that my eye alighted on was an entry for St. Helena, who is celebrated on August 18th.  She was the mother of the Emperor Constantine, and can be called upon to give protection against lightening strikes or fire.  Did I come across this bit of information by coincidence, or could it have been a kind of unconscious dowsing?

Another Saint celebrated this month is St. Bartholomew, the patron saint of skinners, tanners and butchers.  Appropriate, since he attained his martyrdom by being skinned alive.

St. John the Baptist was beheaded on August 29th. at the request of Herod’s dancing girl, Salome, and his head was placed on a dish. There are similarities in this to the Celtic legend of Bran, whose followers cut off his head and kept it, at his own request!

St. Laurence, whose feast day is August 10th, was roasted alive and is now the patron saint of bakers, and St Cassian’s teaching methods led to him being stabbed to death with metal pen nibs by his pupils.  He is now the patron saint of schoolteachers! S.C.


August Field Trip.

August sees a return visit to Bratton Long Barrow, and a trip to visit the holy well at Edington.  This well is nowadays known as the Monks Well, and is found off the main road at the Bratton end of the village. Access is by right of way over private land.  The footpath may be muddy so stout footwear is recommended.  The Westbury White Horse is adjacent to the site of the long-barrow, and although it has been surfaced in recent times with cement, it is believed to be very old.

This area is near where Sir Arthur Bliss wrote his opera, “The Olympians” seventy years ago, which has nothing to do with the choice of sites for this month’s trip!

Meeting point and time are inside the back of the journal.

 

Monk’s Well, Edington

This rather nice picture came from “Holy Wells” published by The Little Wooden Book company.  Worth looking out for, as are the rest of the books published by them.


 What Tree Did You Fall From

Find your date of birth and read about your attributes.  No guarantees of accuracy.

August 05 to August 13 - Poplar Tree (the Uncertainty) - looks very decorative, talented, not very self-confident, extremely courageous if necessary, needs goodwill and pleasant surroundings, very choosy, often lonely, great animosity, great artistic nature, good organizer, tends to lean toward philosophy, reliable in any situation, takes partnership seriously.

August 14 to August 23 - Cedar Tree (the Confidence) - of rare strength, knows how to adapt, likes unexpected presents, of good health, not in the least shy, tends to look down on others, self-confident, a great speaker, determined, often impatient, likes to impress others, has many talents, industrious, healthy optimism, waits for the one true love, able to make quick decisions.

August 24 to September 02 - Pine Tree (the Peacemaker) - loves agreeable company, craves peace and harmony, loves to help others, active imagination, likes to write poetry, not fashion conscious, great compassion, friendly to all, falls strongly in love but will leave if betrayed or lied to, emotionally soft, low self esteem, needs affection and reassurance.