A Jaunt into the West Country : Part 2
Tewkesbury Part Two
Mrs Craik must have had a good eye for detail. She was a brief visitor to the town and captured the streets and alleys with the accuracy of an historian. Much of the early action of John Halifax, Gentleman takes place in the unique set of alleys that still lead off the main street every twenty yards or so. The novel is set around a tanyard, and leather goods were always made in the town. At one time there were large forests nearby, which not only gave the town timber for building, but satisfied the greedy appetite for tree bark that tanning requires. One legacy of tanning can be found in the Old Black Bear Inn which has some remarkable leather ceilings. I passed through here on a long cycle ride in 1996 and was regaled by a hearty barman. When not pulling pints he was actually a music student, at the Royal Northern College in Manchester. He was home for the holidays and saving up for a double bass. It didn’t take him long to swing into tour guide mode.
“Visitor to the town are you? Well, I suppose you’ll be wanting to know a little of the history of the place.” And without waiting for a response he was into the part of his speech that he obviously felt was excellently well penned and had taken great pains to con.
A high security grave and an example of a building where the wrong sort of brick was used. The machine pressed, identical bricks create a lifeless building. Unfortunately it is directly opposite the Abbey.
“This hostelry dates back to the reign of Edward the Second and first served flagons of good ale to thirsty travellers in the year of our Lord 1308. The pub has the distinction of being the oldest in the entire county of Gloucestershire and in addition to it’s ancient leather ceilings and creaking floors, boasts its very own ghost in the headless figure of a defeated Lancastrian soldier from the Battle of May 4 1471; a battle that concluded the famous Wars of the Roses. Proceeding through the door and to your left, and crossing the main road, you can find the Roses Theatre where much loved, English, comedian Eric Morecambe became ill after performing there in 1984; later dying in Cheltenham General Hospital in the early hours of the following morning.” and on, and on. A splendid barman and one whose capacity to listen was all that stood between him and popularity.
The Battle of Tewkesbury was one of the most significant in our history and continues to resonate. Yorkists were on the verge of taking power in the Wars of the Roses through victory at Barnet in April 1471. The Lancastrian army was in disarray and was actually making a tactical retreat to join up with supporters in Wales when the River Severn blocked their path. They were refused entry and a safe place to cross at Gloucester, knew they didn’t have time to lay siege to the city, and were making their way up river to the next bridge, when they were caught up by the White Rose vanguard. The Yorkists were actually outnumbered two to one but had more guns; at that time still a very new technology on the battlefield. The guns didn’t actually kill many of the enemy but they put the fear of God into the Lancastrian forces. The killing was horrible. Over two thousand Lancastrians fell on a small patch of ground still referred to as “Bloody Meadow”. The “Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this son of York” speech in Shakespeare’s Richard III is delivered in the aftermath of this battle which ended the unhappy reign of Henry VI and gave Yorkshire a conclusive victory in this earliest of Roses matches.
It saw Edward IV firmly seated on the throne and it promised many years of peace and prosperity to a country that had been ravaged by war for over a century. It wasn’t to be. With hindsight it was never likely. Tewkesbury was a bloody battle and the killing went of for many days afterwards in the form of summary executions and mopping up operations. Much of the killing took place inside the abbey church which later had to be closed and re-consecrated. Within 14 years the armies of York and Lancaster were to clash once again at Bosworth: a battle that did end outward civil strife for generations but at a considerable cost. The first victim of that battle was truth and the second, civil liberties.
Where rivers flood you inevitably get rich alluvial soil and Tewkesbury became a centre for the growing of cereals long before the agricultural revolution. Barges carried the grain and milled flour out to Bristol and up river to Worcester and Stratford. The original mills are long gone but the river front is still dominated by a rather impressive Victorian mill and warehouse. The water meadows, on farms known locally as Hams, (its where we get such place names as Rotherham, Birmingham and Oldham) also provided rich grazing for cattle and sheep. The milk going to the cheeses that are synonymous with the county. (Incidentally you can get single Gloucester cheese as well as the better known double Gloucester. There are various theories* as to why it is called “double”. To me it would just sound wrong if it wasn’t.
I get the impression of a settlement at ease with itself. A place with a willingness to appear in its scruffs because it is relaxed and because it doesn’t quite realise that is a near perfect example of the small English country town. There have been some ill-advised developments over the years (the sixties shopping precinct near the Bear is quite appalling) and there is a pull, at shop window level, to look like every other town. Look above the ground floor though, and you have a jewel of a town with heritage by the sackful.
In 1996 I was on a cycle tour of England and arrived in Tewkesbury during the European Football Championships. This was the “Football’s Coming Home” tournament held in England and the Black Bear hosted equal numbers of English and Dutch fans for a memorable match between the host nation and the Netherlands. Small knots of “In-ger-land” supporters gathered around the bar and happy Dutch families, decked in orange, held sway around the tables and chairs. I sat somewhere in the middle supping English ale and talking (in very broken Dutch) about Rembrandt and Johan Cruyff. It was a night when the England team played out of their skins as Sherringham and Shearer knocked in two goals each before Patrick Kluivert got a Dutch consolation which kept Holland in the tournament at the expense of Scotland. The Dutch families showed dignity in defeat. The In-ger-land fans were not so gracious in victory and for a while things looked as though they might get ugly. Voices were raised. One suggested that the visitors from the Netherlands were no longer welcome, one challenged all comers to a fight and a musician player from behind the bar helped everyone re-gain their bearings: “Proceeding past the market cross you come to the site of one of the oldest Baptist chapels in the whole of Great Britain. Nearby you will find a Quaker Burial Ground dating back to 1660…”
Ah, Tewkesbury. It was founded in Saxon times, flourished for a century or so before being wiped off the map by invading Danes. It was re-born under Norman rule when the great abbey was built and flourished up until the Reformation. The Benedictine Monastery was the bringer of wealth to the area and when it was dissolved the town fell into a period of quiet survival which saw alternate periods of prosperity and want. The main street has fine buildings from every era that money flowed into the town. Though all of this, the great square Norman tower of the abbey stood immense and proud. Since World War Two the whole area has enjoyed a comfortable living and the population has grown steadily. At the time of my visit the country was getting ready to go to the polls and blue was very much the colour. Poverty and need has always been kept out of sight around here.
I enjoyed a gentle stroll and a cup of coffee at a table that allowed me to watch the town go by. It was busy with the May Festival and as I’m not one for the crowds I got back on the road to Cheltenham and beyond that to Somerset and Devon. I had noticed though, that on Thursday there was sung evensong at the abbey and planned to repeat my detour on the way back home in order to hear that.
I arrived back at four o’clock on Thursday to find Tewkesbury in its working day clothes. With an hour to spare before the service I entered the Abbey Tearooms (a retro-café that would appeal to anyone with an interest in old comics, teacups and vinyl 45s). The tables were full of contented, affluent families out for an early evening meal and talk was of the election. It seemed to me, from what I was able to glean, from snatches of conversation, that socialism was unlikely to prosper this time around.** The meal was rather good though and it was with a tummy as tight as a drum that I took my place for Choral Evensong.
In the abbey the choir were being put through final, exacting rehearsals by a choirmaster who had the happy ability to be able to insist on perfect singing while making it all good fun. I have never seen a happier choir, and rarely heard a better one. When rehearsals finished a very old, very well turned out, lady whispered conspiratorially as to where I might find a cushioned seat. It couldn’t have been better. The anthems reached the very vaults of the abbey with a beauty that would have pleased William Byrd and Thomas Tallis themselves. The readings were given by an ancient lady who had learnt her diction from the Edith Evans school of consonants and rolling rrrrs. There was nothing hasty here. As the choir left, the organist took over, and the very pews shook in appreciative vibration. If you ever get the chance to attend Evensong at Tewkesbury, take it. It is a truly wonderful experience.
The Ceiling above the choir is unbelievably lovely.
* Four theories as to how Double Gloucester got its name
The milk was originally skimmed twice
Double cream was added to the milk during the cheese making
It took milk from two milking sessions to make a cheese
The finished cheeses were twice as big as single Gloucester cheeses
** The Conservative candidate did indeed find himself elected with a comfortable majority