Saturday, June 28, 2003

 

Day 65. Sunday 29 June 2003. Raglan Castle.

Both Pat and I had expressed a desire on various occasions to visit Raglan Castle once more and this Sunday morning Ian arranged to run us up to the Castle. During our last visit to the Castle in 2000 the dull day had turned to drizzle and then light rain so we did not see too much of the Castle.

Pat also wanted to buy more of the large pewter Celtic crosses at the Castle shop which she had purchased last visit and much admired on our return home by the ladies of our church. But alas, there were none on sale now. Apparently the remote shop had been hit by a spate of robberies and sale items taken especially the more expensive items stolen. The shop staff suggested that only Tinten Abbey may stock them now. Ian said we would make a detour on our return to Cricklade.

We had picked a lovely sunny day for our visit and we leisurely picked our way round all the Castle's nooks and crannies from the massive kitchens to the top of the tower and read all the descriptive notices. We again found the Castle a place fascination, although now in ruins it was easy to imagine how it would have looked in its heyday.

We returned back to Usk and Ian had orders to return us to Doreen's home to a lovely Sunday roast lunch. I love a roast with all the trimmings and Pat does too. What a nice surprise. Vicky and Doreen had been so busy during our outing to Raglan Castle. After lunch we had a leisurely afternoon with Doreen then Ian took me for a walk along the banks of the Usk river and back.

Soon it was time to leave for Cricklade. As we left Doreen took us into her front room and showed us a photo on the wall of Stephen in cap and gown at his graduation from University. A younger edition of Stephen whom I met on our 2000 visit to the UK. During our journey back to Cricklade it reminded me of a story as told by his brother, Peter Shillito during their boyhood. I will relate it at the end of this entry.

On our journey back to Cricklade we did detour to Tinten Abbey to find the Celtic pewter crosses were not stocked. However Pat did find a smaller edition in silver which she liked and purchased for herself and now wears regularly. As we drove away up the hill from the Abbey I thought I would like a photo of Tinten Abbey to take home. Ian stopped the car, jumped out with the digital camera and moving up and down the road at a run, took a number of shots from differing angles. Looking now at them back in NZ I still can't decide which one to keep. So I have kept them all. I'm glad Ian decided to take them, he is a much better photographer than I.

We had had a very pleasant weekend which will stay in my memory for a long while.

Peter's Story

Peter and Stephan grew up in a location close to my boyhood home on Lake Ullswater in the 1940s. Although close as the crow flies we had Barton Fell between us and we never met. Stephan and Peter had horses as boys and competed in the local gymkhanas in the district. Periodically they would cross Barton Fell to go to Ullswater gymkhana held at Howtown near our home. Peter mentioned various Ullswater side names which I knew well particularly, Lady Lowther and Mrs Baldrey. Lady Lowther, where my brother John and I spent many happy hours had a daughter Anne who also used to compete in the gymkhanas and she had a large bay horse that Stephan and Peter much admired.

Mrs. Baldrey living near Howtown I remembered well and so it appears did Peter. Mrs Baldrey we both remembered was an officious bad-tempered woman with a loud booming voice which carry long distances. Most people gave her a wide berth not wanting to be on the end of her sharp tongue. Stephan and Peter had periodically been the recipients of one of her tirades and so had I on more than one occasion.

Peter told me that after one gymkhana at Howtown they were riding home and cut across one corner of Mrs. Baldry's land to reach the fell path. Suddenly as they reached the fell route the well known voice of Mrs. Baldry boomed across the paddocks "you boys, come here at once!". Peter said it was the only time he remembered hearing his brother swear. Steven said "it's that bloody woman again, keep riding and don't look back". Mrs Baldry's voice faded into the distance as they rode and Peter said to me that all the while Steven's jaw was tightly clenched having been shouted at one too often "by that woman".

Peter talked awhile about those far off days of himself and Steven and I got the distinct impression that he much admired his elder brother.

posted by OldEric 12:04 pm