Letters to the Editor - February 2009

Alan Edward’s article ‘Wesley on the banjo’ in the December issue of The Countryman, in which the author recalled the custom which went back to pre-motor car days of providing a meal for visiting preachers, reminded me of an incident recorded by William Hale White (1831-1913) in his autobiography of Mark Rutherford.

Writing of his experiences as a young man and a candidate for the ministry, Hale White recalled being ‘entertained’ to dinner after conduct­ing a service at a Unitarian meeting house:

“I remember perfectly well what we had for dinner. There was a neck of mutton (cold), potatoes, cabbage, a suet pudding, and some of the strangest looking ale I ever saw, about the colour of lemon juice, but what it was really like I do not know, as I did not drink beer. I was somewhat surprised at being asked whether I would take potatoes or cabbage, but thinking it was the custom of the country not to indulge in both at once, and remembering that I was on probation I said ‘cabbage’.”

The preaching fee for the day was one guinea but, when the fee was proffered, Hale White found that
two shillings had been deducted for the meal. Evidently, the hospitality offered to visiting preachers in the ‘good old days’ was not always of the sort that Alan Edwards remembers
so fondly.

Rev David Ayton, Bournemouth

The reference (‘Wesley on the banjo’, December) to Nonconformist chapels finding new roles as dwelling houses reminded me of an interesting talk I heard many years ago on BBC Radio 4 about the early days of Methodism in England, when the far-sighted John Wesley exhorted his new followers to “build your churches like houses; they will not be places of worship for ever, and can then be lived in”.

I so look forward to the magazine and my best wishes to you all.

Zoe Irene Bradshaw, Okehampton

Why is so much intellectual energy and money being devoted to reintroductions? Why are so many people looking back to the past instead of towards protecting the future? Sea eagles, beavers, lynx, wolves, even bears are all candidates. They played their part in historic times when there were only a few million people, but now?

Introductions in general have a largely unfortunate outcome due to unforeseen circumstances. Can we be sure that such circumstances will not occur again to cause shock and consternation?
Nature can do it very well unaided — collared dove, little egret, or with some help, osprey and red kite.

Even so it is not always beneficial — witness the movement of cormorants to inland fisheries with devastating and costly results. What about the Scottish hedgehogs that prefer rare bird eggs to slugs?

Would it not be preferable to invest all the intellectual energy and money in protecting the species for which we are already responsible?

American mink — we are told that it is too expensive to exterminate them; and sea eagles — here is lots of money! Surely the American mink should be removed before introducing predators.

There is one problem: there is not much glamour in controlling vermin. A magnificent bird will enhance reputations, with lots of high-profile media coverage. Perhaps I am a little cynical. Tourism may profit, but what benefit will there be for wildlife?

Michael Barnard, Lewes, Sussex

I was most interested in Mark Hicken’s article ‘The Great Skua Mystery’ (November) which so clearly indicates the effects of great skuas on vulnerable seabird colonies.

I am not sure why we tiptoe round this subject. I have seen the effects of skua predation on St Kilda and in the Orkney Islands.

In my opinion there are too many great skuas, and some means of controlling them is necessary. The National Trust and Scottish Nature Heritage should bite the bullet.

With puffin, kittiwake and petrel colonies under pressure, surely we should licence culling of some great skuas in sensitive locations.

Egg picking is one way — though hard hats and a level of bravery may be necessary.

keith Mcdougall, Wells-Next-The-Sea, Norfolk

It must have been idyllic living in the late nineteenth-century countryside when it was possible to be amongst the multitude of birdlife, insect world and animals in the fields. Richard Jeffries encountered that experience which he recorded in April 1884 in a place entitled ‘Meadow Thoughts’.

It took seventy-eight years to pass until Rachel Carson, in 1962, prophesied in her book Silent Spring that the countryside would be devoid of wildlife. Nobody could imagine it, and the continued use of agro-chemicals in the fields since then has proven her right.

I suggest this because my job is to go onto the countryside’s many rights of way to clear them of obstruction, which means removing bramble bushes, lopping overhead branches and generally being nearer to the surface of the ground than most ramblers see. In the last few years I have rarely seen a creeping thing in the undergrowth, a bird in the air or a small mammal of any sort.

Welcome to a lifeless countryside in a mostly rural county.

C T Walker, Leominster

The poem which Mr Bohin (Letters, December) wants in answer to the question ‘crow or rook?’ is possibly:
“A crow in a crowd is a rook and a rook on its own is a crow”
Richard Barker, Stafford

The way I tell rooks from crows is this:
If it is one rook by itself it is a crow; if it is a lot of crows together, they are rooks.
Rooks are sociable, crows are solitary.
Mrs Jean Coates, Nottingham

I would like to say how much I enjoyed your article in October’s Countryman, ‘In the Wild West’.
I have been going on holiday for about four years with my father to the island of Eigg, which is at the end of the road and a ferry ride.

It reminded me of the hot days sitting outside the cottage watching the swallows flying around and going into the new shed to feed their young — they are here every year. In my younger days I also canoed on the west coast with my father with the club he ran.

There is so much to see on this island: there are various walks, so many interesting places to see and the views are splendid.

You can also see the numerous changes, for example the self-sufficiency in power. The sound of generators is no longer heard on the island unless there is a disaster.

I just cannot wait to get on the train in May and get my first glimpse of Eigg after a twelve-hour train ride and fish and chips on the pier with the gulls and my trusty dog and Dad. The beautiful spring flowers will be out, with bluebells and primroses dotting the grass everywhere — it’s
a lovely place for botanists — and in the hazel wood we find bog asphodel and wild garlic.

So thank you again for such a lovely article, please continue your good work.
Everil Newell, Littlebrough

With regard to back copies of The Countryman, I have back issues from 1953 to the present, which I would be glad to pass on to anyone who was interested and who could make arrangements for collection. If they cared to make a donation to the Woodland Trust, I am sure it would be appreciated by that organisation.

Mr E Baldwin, Whitethorn, Dumfries

I came across your website when googling ‘white deer’, as I had never heard of such a creature before. However, one Saturday last November I was driving along Glen Mallon, en route to Arrochar. The road is quite twisty, and on the approach to the naval supply berth on the loch that the road runs past, I saw round the corner the tail end of a white beast.

Initially I thought it to be a rather tall sheep, I must confess, and slowed in case a herd should come bounding out. You may imagine my surprise when, slowly turning the bend, I realised it was a young, white deer — so young his antlers were only just formed and were possibly only about three to four inches long. What a truly beautiful sight.

Unfortunately I had not got my camera with me, so was unable to take a photograph of him. I thought it might be of interest to readers to learn of this sighting.

Joan Summers

Some sixty years ago as a young lad, playing near a water hole for cows in a small stream fed from a spring, I saw a small creature which looked like a miniature giraffe. I remember it was very bright in colour. It frightened me and I ran away.

When I mention this to people, they do not believe me. I did locate this in a reference book once; it indicated it was very rare and was poisonous, and lived in or near freshwater fed from a spring.

Does it exist or am I dreaming?
D Jones, Northampton

We welcome readers' letters, which should be sent to:
Countryman, The Water Mill, Broughton Hall, Skipton, North Yorkshire BD23 3AG
Or email: editorial@thecountryman.co.uk

The editor reserves the right to edit letters for length and clarity.