Dorset

Thursday evening when we returned from Portsmouth, I again used Sheila to direct me to the Europcar rental office down near the Southampton docks. I was on foot; however I have no idea what form of transport Sheila was using. She took me on a walk that left much to my own imagination, especially when she wanted me to turn right and walk off a cliff in the middle of town. Tourists off a ship asked for my help in finding the shopping precinct. I slapped my hand across Sheila mouth and directed them back to where I had come from. She had her revenge by instructing me to take the second exit out of the roundabout. SHEILA, I'm on foot remember.

We found the office where, despite trying to up sell me into an automatic instead of manual car, plus insurance and roadside assist, he gave me an automatic Peugeot 208 GT. He found that I had been a regular customer over the last 30 years.

Sheila threw a hissy fit when she realised that embedded in the dashboard somewhere was a latent satnav. We made it back to Rockstone Place where I encountered a new problem. Meter parking between 8:00am and 6:00pm. We're going have to deal with this every time we return to Southampton. Possibly by always arriving after 6:00 and departing early morning.

Saturday morning, we headed off for Dorset, practicing our dialect along the way. Our first destination was Gold Hill, Shaftesbury, a steep, picturesque street made famous after featuring in the popular 1970s TV advert for Hovis bread.

In the nostalgic advert, a boy pushes his bicycle up Gold Hill to deliver a loaf of bread before freewheeling back down to the baker's to the soundtrack of Dvorak's New World Symphony. The commercial is regularly voted Britain's favourite of all time.

The view looking down from the top of the street has been described as "one of the most romantic sights in England" and often appears on the covers of books, calendars and chocolate boxes. We've seen it on TV so often over the years, it was our absolute must visit site this trip.

The ancient cobbled street we walked up, "runs beside the Grade I listed walls of the ancient Shaftesbury Abbey built by King Alfred the Great. The excavated foundations of this once important and influential Abbey lie in a peaceful walled garden, with an extensive herb garden and medieval orchard. The Shaftesbury Abbey Museum brings to life the story of Saxon England's foremost Benedictine nunnery which acted as the catalyst for the prosperity of the town and surrounding area for over 650 years until it was destroyed on the orders of Henry VIII in 1539."

Ches's hip may be about to give out, however she wasn't going to miss out on making it to the top where we found a table with an umbrella out front of the café, with a view down the street and out to the countryside beyond. We could have stayed there for hours. The waitress explained that the cottages are still homes for families or Airbnb rental. One small cottage right at the bottom recently sold for L500,000 and was undergoing anther couple of thousand-pound renovations.

Actually, Shaftesbury wasn't our first destination as we briefly stopped at Wimborne Minster. The minster has existed for over 1300 years and is recognised for its unusual chained library (one of only a few surviving chained libraries in the world). The minster is a former monastery and Benedictine nunnery, and King Æthelred of Wessex is buried there.

A chained library is a library where the books are attached to their bookcase by a chain, which is sufficiently long enough to allow the books to be taken from their shelves and read, but not removed from the library itself. The practice was usual for reference libraries (that is, the vast majority of libraries) from the Middle Ages to around the 18th century. This would prevent theft of the library's materials. Since the chaining process was also expensive, it was not used on all books, only the more valuable books such as reference works or large books in a collection were chained. Librarians in the Middle Ages often invoked curses as well to keep books from being stolen. Once such curse written into the books was,

"Steal not this book my honest friend

For fear the gallows should be your end,

And when you die the Lord will say

And where's the book you stole away?

The chained library was one of the first public libraries in the UK, and it remains the second-largest. Some of the collections of the library include a manuscript written on lambskin in 1343, a book bound for the Court of Henry VIII, an incunabulum printed in 1495 on the works of Saint Anselm, and a Paraphrase of Erasmus printed in 1522 with a title page designed by Holbein.

Ches and I had seen another chained library …. Somewhere. Can't remember where.

Back to Shaftsbury. While we had a leisurely lunch looking down the length of Gold Hill, the thought did occur that I would most likely be drummed out of the Slowtrav group, if it still existed. The principle of Slow Travel are to find a base for at least a week or more and take your time in exploring the immediate area. Here we were traveling longish distances, visiting five or so sights along the way and only staying in a cottage for three or five nights. It's early afternoon, we've visited two towns and have three villages to go before we arrive in Puddletown late afternoon.

Drew had explained that the reason why we are finding the narrow roads hemmed in by both hedges and wildflower meadow vegetation. 98% of wildflower meadows have been lost across the UK, so they now have a policy of encouraging it to grow on the narrow strips of land between the hedges and the road itself. It's encouraging plant, insect, bird and animal diversity. Our only issue is that it is also hiding the roadside signage. It also means that the usual 60MPH speed limit is unrealistic … more like 40MPH if you're lucky.

Sheila is also having difficulty in reading her map. By the time she interprets it and issues her instructions we are almost always mid roundabout and struggling to cut across traffic to the exit. Worse is to come when we arrive in Taunton in 3 days time.

Nest stop, Stalbridge. Known as Staplebridge in the Domesday Book of 1086 to Stalbriggh or Stapleford in Medieval times, the town takes its name from a bridge on posts (stapuls), now long gone. Douglas Adams, who wrote The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy lived in the town.

I had only one purpose in making the cross-country trek to this village and that was to see the Market Cross. We arrived and I parked next to it. Ches didn't even get out of the car. The Stalbridge Cross was erected when there was much more space around it with many fewer buildings and houses. In the past, on Feast-days, Market-days, Fair-days and other special occasions the market square would be crowded with a conglomeration of people and their goods. Now double yellow lines mean you can't park anywhere near it. Technically, we were "standing" not "parking".

As usual, for those interested in the origins of the cross, including legends, I've added them at the end … sourced from the council website.

I photographed it from all angles and non were good enough to interpret the carvings. Maybe Ches will get out of the car if we go on to Sturminster Newton.

I had The Sturminster Newton Mill as the reason to stop off here. I hadn't told Sheila this, so I can't blame her for overshooting the mill or being confused by a traffic jam on the approach to the medieval bridge. We overshot, did a U turn and by this time the congestion had cleared. I realised that it was the Mill I wanted to see when we crossed the bridge, however there was no room to turn before we entered the village. We snapped up the last parking spot in the town square and had a 30 minute stroll. Tempted by the peaches and other fruit, Ches decided that at $AUD2.00 each, it would have been risky this early in the season.

Like many small villages now, there are controls on the main road in and out of town. Those leaving have preference over those entering. Makes sense. Back outside the village, we crossed the stone bridge with a sign saying that anyone who damages the bridge will be sentenced to "transportation for life". I wonder how many Australians are descended from a local offender.

We spent a good half hour at the Mill. It was very tranquil and in the hot humid weather, cool and refreshing with the water passing by. "It became a museum once operations ceased in 1970, but has remarkably returned to its former flour-making glory to meet increased demand during the COVID-19 pandemic. the mill was first mentioned among 6,000 flour mills in the Doomsday Book of 1086. The building, which sits on the River Stour and was originally built during the Anglo-Saxon period in 1016, was last reconstructed in the 18th century.

The mill is typically only operational during tourist season to educate museum-goers. Owner Pete Loosmore — whose grandfather was its miller for 50 years — and colleague Imogen Bittner usually get through only around one ton of grain during that visitor-heavy period.

That all changed when local grocers reported food shortages as a result of the coronavirus lockdown.

"This year we have got through the whole of that ton in two to three weeks and we're still chasing more and more grain," he told the BBC. "It's been nice to bring the place truly back to life and back into something like it used to be when it was working six days a week."

Sturminster Newton Mill is one of a series of ancient flour mills built on the River Stour. It is thought that there may have been a mill on this site in Saxon times and there is evidence that a mill existed in 1016. The Mill is recorded in the Domesday Book of 1086 where four mills in the Sturminster area are mentioned.

The present L-shaped building consists of the south and north wings. The south wing, which sits firmly on the river bank, was last rebuilt c.1650 on a centuries-old site. The north wing, which juts out into the river, was originally a completely separate fulling mill built in 1611. It was demolished in the late 18th century and rebuilt in brick on its original stone base to join with and extend the grain mill.

Until the turn of the 20th century, Sturminster Newton Mill was powered by a pair of undershot water wheels working side by side which drove four sets of stones. The last pair of water wheels, fitted by William Munden of Ringwood in 1849, were capable of a combined output of 12 horsepower. In 1904 the mill was upgraded, and the two water wheels were replaced with a single water turbine.

Watermills were originally developed during the Hellenistic era. The horizontal wheel mill was invented in the Byzantine Empire, while its vertical counterpart was built in Alexandria, Egypt around 240 B.C. The ingenious technology spread rapidly through Europe once the Romans adopted it.

When the Roman Empire came to an end, monks and lords continued to build mills throughout the Middle Ages and Early Modern period. They not only refined the technology but used it as a main source of power. Naturally, it was left by the wayside once the Industrial Revolution arrived.

I've always been fascinated by Watermills. We've visited quite a few here in the U.K as well as hiked across country in France to see a Roman one at Barbegaln, 12 kilometres east northeast of Arles near Fontvieille, where the Arles aqueduct passed near a steep escarpment. The mills consisted of 16 water wheels in two parallel sets of eight descending a steep hillside. The mills operated from the beginning of the 2nd century until about the end of the 3rd century. The capacity of the mills has been estimated at 4.5 tons of flour per day, enough to supply bread for as many as 10,000 of perhaps 30-40,000 inhabitants of Arelate at that time. It is thought that the wheels were overshot water wheels with the outflows driving successive wheels to the base of the hill.

Then there is the fact that my 6th great grandfather was the manager of the bleachfield at Grantown in the Scottish highlands. He operated a water mill on the Spey.

We reluctantly left the mill and drove through ever increasingly quit countryside in search of Milton Abbas. Over many years of watching British TV, Ches has compiled a list of unique places to visit. Gold Hill was one of them and Milton Abbas another.

The village was created in the 1770s, when the owner of Milton Abbey House, Joseph Damer, decided that the noises and smells of the existing village was disturbing his rural idyll!

Capability Brown, a landscape gardener (known for creating graceful parklands and sweeping vistas) and architect, William Chambers, designed the village. All those living in the old village were subsequently moved. Whilst the houses look spacious, multiple families were living in each house and it is thought up to 36 people even lived in a single house! One of the original buildings, the Almshouses, were carefully taken down and re-erected in Milton Abbas and can still be seen today.

It seemed far from tranquil as we drove down the street. There were tradies vans everywhere and the only village shop was closed …. No ice cream.

I'd phoned Mary and Phil at Puddletown several times during the day. Each time I'd estimated when we might arrive and it kept getting later. By the time I called them as we approached the village, they'd decided to go into Dorchester. Never mind, we had shopping to do at the little village SPAR store. We were only buying basic breakfast provisions because Drew and Keith were driving over from Southampton after work, and we would be eating out over the weekend.

I was having difficulty entering the code into the front door lock when Mary and Phil arrived. We were stunned and delighted with the cottage and after a brief discussion about returning to stay for a week in January/February (when we hope to return to celebrate Drew's 50th birthday), Phil said, "give me a call and we can work out a really good rate". That's Airbnb cut out of the deal.

More about the cottage later. While it had taken us 8 ½ hours to wend our way across the New Forest and Dorset, it had only taken Drew and Keith 1 ½ hours. They arrived just in time to walk around to the Blue Vinny for a pub dinner. It was lovely sitting in the beer garden with many of the locals cooling down after a day of high 20's and humidity.

I guess this has been a long blog to read and perhaps too much history.

I'll post the photographs into individual ones for each town/village to make it easier for you to see.

Taking a hint from Pauline, I'll make future blogs more about us and our observations with the history tucked away at the end of the blog as is the case here with:

STALBRIDGE MARKET CROSS.

"Its age is uncertain but, for more than five centuries the residents of Stalbridge must have known of its presence. Here long ago, farmers would congregate. On these steps would change hands the butter, the cheese, the eggs.

But the cross meant far more than a source of provisions for here they would gather, eager for news of events taking place beyond the parish boundaries.

The earliest of modern news media was the newspaper. Even if they reached the village, few would be able to afford them. So, the cross would be a meeting place - sometimes a babble of sound - at other times, a rapt audience listening to the news of itinerant travellers.

Stalbridge Market was still going in the late 19th century, as you can see from this extract in the Western Gazette from March 7th, 1890, stating: "At a public meeting convened in the Public Room, Stalbridge, on Monday, 3rd March, it was unanimously resolved that STALBRIDGE MARKET should in future be held every ALTERNATE THURSDAY, instead of MONDAY. The FIRST MARKET under the NEW REGULATIONS to be held on THURSDAY 20th MARCH. - G. ALLEN, Chairman of the Meeting.

Stalbridge Town Council

The Myth of Galfridius de Mervin

No one knows for sure who commissioned or built the Stalbridge Market Cross, but a legend from the past unearthed itself in the pages of an old publication known as Somerset & Dorset Notes & Queries. People could write in to the publishers asking for information or help on a particular topic of investigation. Sadly, it seems that the replies might have been simply posted to the person, rather than published in subsequent editions since no one seems to be able to find any response to the query from the gentleman featured below.

​Regarding the latin inscription...the answer appears to be as follows:

"Galfridius de Meovin of St. John wishes that the Mediterranean colony of Rhodes may never perish while the letters remain".

So far it has not been possible to interpret the last three letters P.L.M.

Extracts from the Ring Magazine of Stalbridge (1968-2008)

​Extract from St. Mary's Church, Stalbridge, Parochial Magazine of May 1891

"It is always interesting to learn what our forefathers thought as to any object which is familiar to us, and in this connection, I have thought that readers of our magazine would like to know what was believed about our Market Cross early in the 16th century and no doubt earlier still. I am indebted for the information to a brother clergyman who has sent me a copy of the "Salisbury Journal", itself venerable from age, being dated Feb. 29th, 1768. From this it appears that there had been some inquiry as to the cross and a Mr. Charles Willis, heir to the renowned Dorset Antiquiary Dr. Browne Willis, who died in 1760, from his uncle's writings quotes an extract from a book, now probably lost, of the date 1534 entitled 'Durotngiarea" ('Dorsetshire notes"). In this book the following account of the origin of the cross is given which is, as I have said, interesting, though we shall believe just as much as we think good,

"Galfridius de Meovin", Knighte of Malta, was sorely rent and torn with dolorous wounds in the victorious attack which this right valiant champion likewise his Brethren made upon the Bloodie Saracens in the year 1309. Albeit when his friends had banished from their breasts all hope of his recovery, Saint John, the tutelarie Saint of the Order, ap¬peared unto him at his bedside and with a plugale of most Miraculous Unction, did forthwith anoynte and cure his blessures (wounds). To make a mete return thereunto, he was ordered to erect a pillar, which was to be removed into the several countries where he might in future times set his mind to live and also to remain there during his stay, The Saint likewise delivered a behest that an Inscription be devised and graven on the said Pillar. He then prophecyede that the Knights of Malta should possess Rhodes without interruption untill the time should come when the said inscription should be suddenly obliterated. With these words the Holy Man vanished. Galfredius de Meovin, succeeding to rich demesnes (domains) in England, passed over into that kingdom and tooke the Pillar with him. His sister Elfrida was there given in marriage to one of the Right Noble and Ancient Familie of Audley, Lordes of the Manour of Stalle¬brigge. In this Towne Galfridius erected the said Pillar, It was the work of the famous artist Pietro di Colonna, the Discyple of Pazzino. The Emblems and Rare Devices portrayed upon the Pillar are Saint John, 2, a lion treadynge upon a crescent, wrythes of Laurell, a chevalierisse or female Hospitaler, ande the A.rmoiyalle Standard of Malta, to wit a White Cross in a field Argent. In the beginning of the year 1522 and in the Reigne of Henry the Eighth the Inscription became suddenly ef¬faced, and incontinently, news was brought that through the treachery of the Chancellor of the Order, Rhodes was taken by Soloman the Magnificent."