Brigadier Wagthorpe was a most ineffective Chairman of the Church Organ Appeal Committee: he had even been heard to say that money could be better spent elsewhere. Clearly he belonged to that large faction that always says It sounds all right to me!
He was also extremely unpopular in the village. This was not due to his lack of musical discernment, but to his personality for he was neither cordial nor courteous: his latest act of overbearing rudeness was a frequent and regular topic of village conversation. As a general busybody, he was unequalled. The only thing in his favour was the habit of taking a siesta that lasted from after lunch until early evening, thus keeping him out of everybody's hair for several hours.
This practice suddenly ceased, for reasons not immediately apparent. Then it was noticed that his newly-established afternoon strolls invariably took him along the same paths as those of Mrs Anderson, an attractive widow who had recently taken Apple-Tree Cottage. It was also discerned, almost as quickly, that, by varying her direction and times, this lady was going to considerable trouble to avoid meeting the Brigadier. Training in military field-craft and deception would undoubtedly have led to greater success on his part if it had not been for the villagers.
It became a local pastime to mislead him and to warn her. An innocent-eyed pensioner, meeting the Brigadier, might remark that he had met Mrs Anderson shortly before, walking near Springs Wood when the meeting had in fact occurred in the much-nearer Holt Wood. Rather less innocent-eyed teenagers would warn the lady that the Brigadier was approaching down Black Hill Road, thus allowing her to escape unobserved along Warren lane. Brigadier Wagthorpe seemed to be the only person who did not find these manoeuvres enjoyable.
One hot summer afternoon the warning system broke down and the Brigadier, from a vantage point near Hollins Wood, spotted Mrs Anderson's large, flowery hat moving along Harebell Lane. Rightly concluding that its owner must be beneath the hat, he advanced to intercept her. To do this, he needed a shorter path than that along the road; a short-cut across Farmer Harrison's pastures was the solution.
He was also extremely unpopular in the village. This was not due to his lack of musical discernment, but to his personality for he was neither cordial nor courteous: his latest act of overbearing rudeness was a frequent and regular topic of village conversation. As a general busybody, he was unequalled. The only thing in his favour was the habit of taking a siesta that lasted from after lunch until early evening, thus keeping him out of everybody's hair for several hours.
This practice suddenly ceased, for reasons not immediately apparent. Then it was noticed that his newly-established afternoon strolls invariably took him along the same paths as those of Mrs Anderson, an attractive widow who had recently taken Apple-Tree Cottage. It was also discerned, almost as quickly, that, by varying her direction and times, this lady was going to considerable trouble to avoid meeting the Brigadier. Training in military field-craft and deception would undoubtedly have led to greater success on his part if it had not been for the villagers.
It became a local pastime to mislead him and to warn her. An innocent-eyed pensioner, meeting the Brigadier, might remark that he had met Mrs Anderson shortly before, walking near Springs Wood when the meeting had in fact occurred in the much-nearer Holt Wood. Rather less innocent-eyed teenagers would warn the lady that the Brigadier was approaching down Black Hill Road, thus allowing her to escape unobserved along Warren lane. Brigadier Wagthorpe seemed to be the only person who did not find these manoeuvres enjoyable.
One hot summer afternoon the warning system broke down and the Brigadier, from a vantage point near Hollins Wood, spotted Mrs Anderson's large, flowery hat moving along Harebell Lane. Rightly concluding that its owner must be beneath the hat, he advanced to intercept her. To do this, he needed a shorter path than that along the road; a short-cut across Farmer Harrison's pastures was the solution.
Two fields were crossed without incident. The third was occupied by the Ram Enoch, unnoticed by the Brigadier in his haste. Enoch noticed the Brigadier and immediately felt for him emotions exactly matching those felt by the Brigadier for Mrs Anderson. The first expression of these occurred when Wagthorpe reached the stile. Unaware of any presence but his own, the Brigadier, mounting the lower step, was somewhat surprised to experience a sharp nudge in the lower back.
He spun round. If he had seen a large poisonous snake or a column of tanks advancing he would have known exactly what to do. Sheep were outside his experience and the sight of a substantial ram with large, curly horns and the lovelight in his eyes unnerved him. With a cry, he launched himself across the stile. It was unfortunate that a stray piece of barbed wire caught his trousers, tearing them in such a way that he immediately became unfit to seek feminine company. With Enoch nuzzling affectionately the area exposed by the rent, he broke his own previously invariable rule and leaped without looking. |
He landed in a large cow-pat, the condition of which suggested that an outbreak of bovine influenza was in progress. The resultant splash covered much of his person, adding to it a distinctively rural aspect and, it must be said, smell. He was now unfit to seek any company at all. Even Enoch seemed appalled and wandering off, upwind, the lovelight extinguished.
Brigadiers rarely slink as Wagthorpe slunk home on that afternoon. He succeeded in avoiding Mrs Anderson – a direct reversal of his original intention - but not a party of villagers who exchanged very audible comments about the pong and rather fanciful theories about its origin. Over the rest of his woes it is kindest to draw a veil.
The matter was, of course, discussed in local pubs. It was generally agreed that these events had been a judgement on him for not applying himself to his duties toward the organ.
Many felt that others who failed similarly in regard to other organs might well suffer a similar fate.
All geographical names save one exist in the parish where this incident of 40 years ago took place.
Brigadiers rarely slink as Wagthorpe slunk home on that afternoon. He succeeded in avoiding Mrs Anderson – a direct reversal of his original intention - but not a party of villagers who exchanged very audible comments about the pong and rather fanciful theories about its origin. Over the rest of his woes it is kindest to draw a veil.
The matter was, of course, discussed in local pubs. It was generally agreed that these events had been a judgement on him for not applying himself to his duties toward the organ.
Many felt that others who failed similarly in regard to other organs might well suffer a similar fate.
All geographical names save one exist in the parish where this incident of 40 years ago took place.
David Bridgeman-Sutton,
December 2013
December 2013