Archive for May 2007

Wood Pigeons on the Quantocks by Philip Radford

May 2007

Over most of the year, it must be difficult to walk in a Quantock wood without hearing the song of a male Wood Pigeon, and the same applies to the villages, at least those with a few trees around. Wood Pigeons are Somerset residents, but in autumn large numbers migrate into England from northern and eastern Europe, so the winter population is often considerably increased. Wood Pigeons are common birds and it is easy to overlook the beautiful, soft, blue-grey plumage, with white patches on the side of the neck and, when in flight, a white bar can be seen on the top of the wings. Wood Pigeons are bulky and portly birds, perhaps seen at their best when a male displays to a female on a branch or on the ground, with the cock showing his puffed out, pinkish breast and a well fanned tail.

Understandably, the repeated musical song of the male Wood Pigeon or Ring Dove has given rise to many country names, although they are mostly not in general use nowadays. Hence, there is ‘too-zoo’, ‘cushiedoo’ and ‘cushat’, as examples. Now some people consider that the Wood Pigeon’s song is melancholy in nature and this has led to the name of ‘quist’ or ‘quest’, which is derived from the Latin word ‘questus’, meaning complaining.

Many people enjoy listening to the cock Wood Pigeon’s rhythmic and five-noted song, ending with a single ‘coo’; this is often repeated, especially if there are rivals near the territory who will take up the challenge. Wood Pigeons go in for display flights in their territories, mainly in spring and summer, with the male rising steeply in the air and clapping the wings at the zenith, before gliding down on stiff wings. In addition, Wood Pigeons will utter short, gruff cooing notes, often unseen, from cover in the nesting tree and, further, the mechanical clattering of wings as birds rise from the ground or from tree branches is one of the characteristic sounds of the countryside.

However, other pigeon or dove sounds can be heard over the Quantock Hills. In mature woodland, with tree holes big enough for nesting, there is the smallish and mainly resident Stock Dove; here, the male’s song is a repeated, monotonous and double-noted coo. Then there is the now scarce Turtle Dove, which is a summer migrant; I used to hear it in May and June on scattered hawthoms or hedgerow trees. Middle Hill, Lydeard Hill and Aisholt Common were once good places to listen to the soothing, purring phrases of the Turtle Dove’s song which, somehow, seemed to set the scene for the midday heat of a summer’s day. Further, in contrast to the declining numbers of the Turtle Dove, there is the success story of the Collared Dove, now to be found nesting in most local villages and farms. The song of the resident Collared Dove is the familiar repeated three-syllable ‘dec-oct-oo’, which a few people still mistake for the call of the Cuckoo! Collared Doves also make harsh, loud flight calls, rather like the scream of a Black-headed Gull. On the Quantock coast, there are Rock Doves, at least where there are rocky cliffs with fissures or recesses for nesting sites. Male Rock Doves give an undulant cooing, with a moaning quality, rather like that of some domestic pigeons. Indeed, it is likely that the various strains of domestic pigeons were originally bred from wild Rock Dove stock.

Anyway, returning to Wood Pigeons, some people consider its flesh to be delicious and will pass on their favourite recipes for pigeon pie or even squab pie. Even so, the flavour of pigeon meat must depend on their food. I understand that Wood Pigeons which have fed on turnips in winter taste very unpleasant; indeed, Gilbert White, curate of Selbome wrote in the 18th Century that such birds were rejected by the ‘nicer judges of eating’. Yet the meat flavour is excellent after the pigeon has been feeding on grain, weed seeds or clover and, as the bird was often shot for food, as still occurs, the crop and its contents often get examined. Old records, as examples, list 33 acorns, 44 beech-nuts, 87 beans and even in one case half a pint of holly berries! In the past, I understand that if the crop was stuffed with fresh spring greens, turnip tops or some other brassica, the thrifty housewife would boil this up for supper. Obviously, this saved a journey to the garden or village shop on a stormy day, and I expect Wood Pigeons would select the choicest pieces. Without doubt, they  can be terrible pests to the farmer when flocks take grain or attack the root crops; gardeners too are understandably annoyed when their well-grown brassicas or beans are shredded up.

Wood Pigeons themselves are favoured food for Peregrines, and it is quite common to come across their feathery remains on a walk along the coast, as at Kilve. Sparrowhawks too favour Wood Pigeon prey, but only the female is able to carry the relatively heavy bird away, held by a talon; the much smaller male has to pluck his victim on the spot, eat his fill of the flesh, and then carry off portions to feed young or for future use. Perhaps increasingly, we come across Wood Pigeon remains in our gardens, usually resulting from attacks by Peregrines or Sparrowhawks; not long back, a lady telephoned me from Watchet and gave a running commentary on the behaviour of a Peregrine which had killed a Wood Pigeon and was then plucking it on her lawn outside her lounge window. Another bird which will seize Wood Pigeons is the Tawny Owl, which will take one at night from its tree or bush roosting site. Amongst mammals, Red Foxes will surprise the occasional Wood Pigeon at its roosting site, or else pounce on one while it is feeding on the ground. With their large, powerful breast muscles, Wood Pigeons make excellent meals for most carnivores. They are abundant in Somerset, in spite of providing meals for their several predators; what will reduce their numbers, however, is a severe winter, with the ground hard frozen or else with prolonged snow cover. When will this next happen over the Quantocks?

The Wood Pigeon’s nest is often a flimsy platform or lattice of twigs, although sometimes the structure is quite substantial. The female builds the nest, with the male bringing in the building materials; the nest is sited at varying heights on a spreading branch of a tree or large bush. From the ground, the nest can be confused with that of a Jay or even a Sparrowhawk; building can occur in any month of the year, but normally it is in the summer months. Only two eggs are laid, but two or three broods are often reared. As the eggs are a glossy white, they can be a tempting target for Magpies or Carrion Crows which love an egg meal; however, the eggs are normally covered as both male and female pigeons sit on the clutch. The young pigeons are fed on ‘pigeon milk’; this is a nutritious fluid, formed as a crop secretion and really a kind of soup, although the idea does suggest a music hall joke! Of course, pigeons are a bit out of the ordinary for, in addition, they suck up water, rather than swallowing it by bill tilting.

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The Fun of the Fair by Audrey Mead

May 2007

The day was remarkably fine, and the picturesque appearance of the ground, being on a slope and affording an animated view of the whole Fair with its rustic booths, open fires and busy groups, was enlivened by the cheerful sounds of the church bells. Upwards of 1,800 sheep were penned, just 50 bullocks, some good plough horses that sold well and some rather poor hackneys and ponies.

This was in November 1834,  but the name of the field opposite Broomfield Green has long been the only reminder of a day eagerly anticipated annually for more than six centuries. In 1259 the charter to hold the Fair was granted to John de la Lynde, Lord of the Manor, by Henry III and it continued into the 1890s, although declining considerably in its latter years. The church being dedicated to All Saints the date was chosen, as was generally the custom, to follow the celebrations on that special day, so the Fair was held on November 2nd, “the morrow upon Allhallowstide”. The 1751 change in the calendar moved it forward to November 13th.

A Somerset county historian writing in 1791 said that the fair was ‘for coarse cloth and all sorts of cattle’; the latter would have included sheep and “lean stock” (bullocks) for fattening. It was always a popular venue for horse dealers, some honest, some less so. Many frauds were perpetrated, even painting the animal if it had been stolen: there was a long court case about a dark bay mare with ‘but one eare and a white tayle’, said to have been exchanged but more likely to have been acquired illegally. Another case concerned sheep, alleged to have been bought at the fair and paid for at the toulsey (where dues payable were entered in a toll book) but actually stolen and re-sold some miles away.

‘All the parte of the Waste Ground commonly called Broomfield Green or Broomfield Street together with the profits of standings to be sett up there during the time of the faire’ was let for the annual rent of one shilling in the 1700s. Lengths of material - since few ready made clothes were then available - hats, boots and shoes would have been on sale, as well as ribbons and trinkets, sweetmeats and gingerbread, which the young men bought as ‘fairings’ for their sweethearts. Refreshments were an essential. An Enmore Rector recalled the traditional fare as ‘toasted biscuits and cider’, the drink probably spiced with ginger. ‘Cold day! Mind ‘ee of Gin and Cider Fair’ was still a familiar saying in the district in the 1920s referring to Broomfield’s often chilly Fair Day.

Cheap jacks and a gypsy fortune-teller, a quack doctor and various amusement booths would have added interest to the proceedings. Visitors came from a wide area, often riding upon donkeys - one year two animals died after eating yew while tied up nearby.

The fair provided a popular occasion for meeting old acquaintances, exchanging news, farming talk and so on but, as at most similar gatherings, rogues and pickpockets were among the crowd. In 1843 the Gazette reported: ‘A mob of 20 villains assembled, to the terror of the peaceable inhabitants of the place, and after beating and abusing them in a shameful manner, they broke the windows and also the furniture of those houses which provided refreshments for visitors. Mrs Jenkins, a respectable widow (she lived in part of what is now Fyne Court Cottage) has been a great sufferer, not only in having her furniture smashed to pieces but she found that she had received 19 counterfeit half-crowns from the same desperate gang of swindlers.’

A sad end to a long awaited day.
  

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