Ranscombe and thereabouts...

Nether Great Bottoms...

Speckled Wood...

View from Brockles...

Broomrape...

White Pyramidal Orchid...

Bee Orchid...

Bee Orchid...

View from Brockles...

View from Brockles...

Pyramidal Orchids...

Forge Field...

Forge Field

First Fiance Field...

Forge Field...

Marbled White...

 

The Lady Harley Memorial...

Perhaps one of the most striking artefacts in Cuxton’s history is also one of the hardest to find and appreciate. Hidden away on the south-western wall  of the Lady Chapel in St. Michaels and All Angels Church (and not accessible to the public) is the Lady Harley memorial...

Commissioned by Sir Robert Harley in remembrance of his late and first wife Ann (who died in 1603) the marble installation is a richly-coloured classical wall monument and one that (rather perversely) is now completely obscured by the church organ. It deserves so much better and needs some repair and restoration, although the work undertaken on it in 1723 by Lord Edward Harley (the famous parliamentarian and son of Sir Robert and his third wife) has lasted well. 

The Harley family is of ancient lineage (with one source suggesting that it pre-dates the Norman Conquest) and by 1221 were in possession of the Shropshire manor from which they took their name. The property subsequently passed out of the family through an heiress, but by that time a family branch had established itself at Brampton Bryan, ten miles south west of Ludlow. Situated in the extreme north of Herefordshire, Brampton Bryan lay close to the borders with Radnorshire and Shropshire.

From the fourteenth century the Harleys played a leading part in those two county communities. The first member of the family to make a place in national life was Sir Robert Harley (1579-1656), who became Master of the Mint under Charles I and M.P. for Radnor Boroughs in 1604, for Herefordshire in 1624, 1626 and 1640 and for Evesham in 1628.

On 13^th. Feb. 1602, Sir Robert married Ann Barrett. Born in 1583, she was the daughter of Sir Charles Barrett of Belhus, Aveley, Essex and Christian (nee Mildmay) Barrett and the sister of Sir Edward Barrett. When Anne Barrett-Harley's father died, her mother married Sir John Leveson on 9th June, 1586.

Heraldic symbols on the Harley memorial: the red and white chequer is associated with the Barrett family, whilst the other devices are those of the Harley dynasty...

Ann was thus the step-daughter of Sir John Leveson, then owner and resident of Whorne’s Place, thus establishing the link between the Herefordshire-based Harley dynasty and Cuxton.

The match probably arose as a result of Harley’s close connection with the Shropshire branch of the Leveson family, for the brother of Sir John Leveson Junior, (Sir Richard Leveson of Lilleshall Lodge, Shropshire) was his first cousin. Although marriages within the aristocracy in those days were often merely arrangements driven by politics and property, it seems that there was genuine love between the young Robert Harley and his equally youthful wife.

Sadly, their marriage was cut short after just less than two years – Lady Ann Harley and her new-born baby son Thomas both died in childbirth on 1st. December 1603.

It seems possible that the couple were staying with Sir John Leveson at Whorne’s Place at the time, as records show that Sir Robert was latterly acting on behalf of at least two Kentish Lords (Sir Henry Crispe of Quex House, Birchington and Thomas Crayford, the son of Sir William Crayford of Great Mongeham) making representations for them in the Houses of Parliament.

What is certain is that Ann and her child were laid to rest at St. Michaels and All Angels Church, with Sir Robert Harley instigating the remarkable monument to her memory that still exists today.

The text of the main plaque on the memorial leaves us in no doubt as to the extent of Sir Robert’s grief...

"HERE DEATH HATH SPORTED, TYRANT-LIKE IN BLOOD,

IN TAKINGE LIFE FROM YOUTH AND WOMANHOOD,

ACTINGE THE DOOME OF HIS INFORCED DUTY,

REGARDLES OF MODESTY OR BEAUTY,

BUT I AM MUCH IN LOSS OF SO GREAT BLIS,

THOUGH NOT REPAIRED YET COMFORTED IN THIS,

THAT DEATH IN HIS PROUD CONQUEST HATH NO JOTT,

OF THIS UNTIMELY SPOILE FOULEN TO HIS LOTT,

EARTH HATH POSSESSION OF HER EARTHLY PARTE,

WICH SHE INCLOSETH IN A MOTHER'S HEARTE,

HERE SOUL IN HEAVEN, HER MEMORY ALIVE,

AND THAT WHICH EARTH DETAINES NOW SHALL REVIVE,

AND IN DESPITE OF ALL DEVIDINGE DEATH,

MEETINGE THE REST SHALL DRAW A JOYFULL BREATH"

The plaque below reads:

LET THIS INFORM PROSPERITY THAT HERE LYETH ANN DAUGHTER TO CHARLES BARRET

OF BELHOUSE IN THE COUNTY OF ESSEX, ESQR. WHICH ANN WAS MARIED TO SIR ROBERT

HARLEY, KNIGHT OF THE BATH THE 13th FEBRUARY 1602 AND DECEASED THE FIRST OF

DECEMBER 1603 BY WHOM HE HAD ISSUE A SON NAMED THOMAS WHICH LIES HERE ALSO

BURIED IN MEMORY OF WHOM HER SORROWFUL HUSBAND HATH CAUSED THIS 

MONUMENT TO BE ERECTED AS THE LAST OFFICE OF HIS LOVE

"LINQVENDA TELLVS ET DOMUS ET PLACENS VXOR"

The last line translates from the Latin as “Leaving Earth and home with a pleasant wife”.

In his Registrum Roffense of 1769, John Thorpe tells us that below the monument, on white marble, there was also an inscription that read: “This monument was repaired at the charge of Edward, Lord Harley, 1723”.

I can find no such marble and I assume it was removed during the Victorian "restoration" of the church in the 1860s. 

Death's Head, topped by an hourglass: perhaps a symbol of how fleeting are our lives on earth...

It is recorded that on August 27^th 1723, Lord Edward Harley rode out to Cuxton “through very straight (narrow) lanes” to inspect the monument. When he reached the village, it is said that some poor women of the place strewed mint upon the road out of their aprons (a practice that seems as unlikely as it is bizarre, at least by modern standards).

In terms of the location of the monument, Edward Hasted (in his 1797 “History and Topographical Survey of the County of Kent: Volume 3) tells us that it was to be found “in the chancel, within the rails of the south wall”. Similarly, the Registrum Roffense states it was set "within the communion rails, on the South wall". In that position today is a stained-glass window, of a plainer and seemingly later design than the two magnificent windows in the south-east and eastern chancel walls.

This suggests that the Harley monument may have been moved to its current position as part of the church restoration works of the 1860s, which saw the building of the “new” south aisle and restoration of the Lady Chapel, where the memorial now resides.

This proved to be somewhat unfortunate. In 1881, the church organ was duly installed in the Lady Chapel, thus completely obscuring the view of the Lady Harley memorial. If the memorial had been left where it was, it would have been so much better. Why the church officials decided to place the organ in the Lady Chapel really is completely beyond me. It would have seemed logical to place it in the newly-enlarged nave.

Fruit, and in particular apples and pears, were associated with female fertility and here, possibly allude to the death of the young mother. Pears were also associated with mortality or death.

Ironically, it is conceivable that the Lady Harley memorial could well have suffered a much worse fate as a result of the religious beliefs of its creator. Sir Robert Harley was a committed Puritan, supported in his beliefs by his third wife, the splendidly-named Brilliana (daughter of Sir Edward Conway, then a Secretary of State). In April 1843 (against the febrile background of the English Civil War), Sir Robert was made head of the Committee for the Demolition of Monuments of Superstition and Idolatry, which presided over the destruction of a great deal of religious art and architecture. Fortunately, the memorial escaped the fervour of the puritans.

In terms of the photograph you see here, it is a composite of about 20 individual images. There is only about a four foot clearance between the monument and the back of the organ. I therefore had to mount a camera on a frame and move it around to gather the images I needed to put together an overall view, using the magic of image processing software.

(Note that I have taken the liberty of making some small “enhancements”: I have erased the rather thoughtless electrical wiring for the organ that otherwise disfigures the right hand side of the memorial. I have also “replaced” the missing scroll to the left of the gilded lion’s head below the main plaque. Otherwise, what you see is how it is - or how it would be, if the organ wasn’t in the way!)

Whilst the process of compositing from multiple close-ups has resulted in some rather odd perspective effects if you look closely, the final image nevertheless gives a good overall impression of the memorial, one that has not been seen for over 140 years.

References:

1)   The History of Parliament, entry for Sir Robert Harley (1579-1656)

2)   The Harley family and the Harley papers by Clyve Jones, 1989

3)   WikiTree entry for Anne (Barrett) Harley (1583-1603)

4)   Edward Hasted, 'Parishes: Cookstone', in The History and Topographical Survey of the County of Kent: Volume 3 (Canterbury, 1797), pp 389-403

5)   Cuxton – a Kentish Village, by Derek Church .p.22, 24 (1976)

6)   Puritan Iconoclasm in England 1640-1660, pp. 75-136 (Ph.D thesis by Julie Spraggon, 2000)

7)  Registrum Roffense, by John Thorpe, pp.769-770.

Ludd's a Dud....

The mythical King Ludd is plagued by a greedy giant. Perhaps there's a metaphor here?

Earlier I wrote a post about Vineyard Farms’ latest batch of fake fizz and its equally fake-sounding marketing campaign for it.

Their marketing blurb for it states that:

…”Silver Reign is a reflection of our regal heritage. We invoke King Ludd's pioneering legacy to bring the unique terroir in the Garden of England to life, producing England's finest sparkling wines…”

“Our regal heritage”…?!  “We invoke King Ludd’s pioneering legacy”…?!

I read this and wondered just what fresh hell Vineyard Farms is now trying to inflict upon us.

Like many others I was inclined to think that in their unilateral renaming of large parts of the parishes of Cuxton, Halling and Luddesdown as the “Silverhand Estate”, Vineyard Farms had simply liked the vibe and gone with it. 

Many of the fields, woodlands and roads around Cuxton and Luddesdown have interesting and unusual names, names that are steeped in local history. Wrangling Lane, Cutter Ridge, Bushy Wood, Hatch Hill, Brimstone Hill, Brazenden Wood, Backenden Hill: all of these names mean something locally and would have made fitting titles for Vineyard Farms’ new estate and their brands. That would mean that Vineyard Farms would need to acknowledge the pre-existence of the local community around their new fiefdom however, something they don't seem to want to do.

After all, I can see why a moniker like “Silver Hand” might appeal to a certain type of management team. It has a remote, cold, impersonal feel to it, invoking both wealth and power. There are no warm or friendly connotations associated with the thought of the cold, metallic grasp from a powerful, wealthy, disconnected hand. It almost seems to have been adopted as a warning first and a brand second. 

In terms of historical precedent or links of the Silverhand name with the areas of Cuxton, Halling or Luddesdown however, there appeared to be none whatsoever – indeed, the most prevalent on-line reference to “Silverhand” was to a computer game character!

Johnny Silverhand "doesn't care much for the people around him as long as they are used to accomplish his goals..."

I like to think I know a little bit about local history, but the mention of a “King Ludd” rather puzzled me. It was certainly one I hadn’t come across before in my various researches in relation to Luddesdown.

Vineyard Farms themselves say that the “Silverhand” name comes from:

“…the history of the area - King Ludd, the founder of Luddesdown and many other points of interest, lost his hand in battle and had it replaced with a Silver Hand.  Hence, we have taken that inspiration and name our vineyard the Silverhand Estate….”

Stories of King Lludd Law Eriant (“Ludd of the Silver Hand”) state that he was King of the Britons from around 79BC to 18BC, and allegedly ordered the rebuilding of London's walls and towers. They go on to tell us that the city, hitherto known as Trin ovantum, thus became the city of Lud, i.e. Kaerlud. This was later corrupted to Kaerfundein, from whence came its present name. Ludd was eventually buried in London, close to Ludgate that still bears his name.

These tales arise from the History of the Kings of Britain as written by Geoffery of Monmonth (1095-1155) - a work which is now pretty much regarded as “a literary forgery containing little reliable history”!

Geoffery of Monmonth, it seems, was much more of a romanticist than a historian, many of his works being associated with mythical figures such as King Arthur. Indeed, it seems that his stories about King Ludd were derived from Welsh folklore.

The reality of local history may not be as glamorous or magical as Vineyard Farms would like it to be, although it is still fascinating nonetheless.

The dates given for the “reign of King Ludd” above coincide with a time just fifty years before the Roman invasion of Britain. The country at the time was divided into many different kingdoms ruled over by their own tribal kings, rather than a single “King of the Britons” as Ludd was claimed to be.

At the time of the Roman invasion in 43AD, Kent itself was under the rule of the four kings whom the Romans called the Cantiaci (whose capital was at Durovernum Cantiacorum, now called Canterbury) and who Julius Caesar named as Segovax, Carvilius, Cingetorix, and Taximagulus. On the news of the Roman landing, the British tribes united to fight the invaders under the command of Togodumnus and his brother Caratacus of the Catuvellauni tribe.

These British tribes were subsequently defeated at the Battle of Medway and fell back to the Thames, a wider river that was harder for the Romans to cross and easier to defend. Londinium was subsequently established as a civilian town by the Romans about four years later. Of a “King Ludd” and his founding of London, genuine histories contain not a trace…

So regarding the Silverhand Estate’s claims to a “regal heritage”, two things are completely apparent.

First and foremost, King Ludd of the Britons probably never existed. He is a figure from Welsh mythology, with links to the legend of King Arthur. He’s a myth. A legend. All that stuff linking him with London or anywhere else is just folklore. Ludd may have once been a minor Welsh tribal chieftain, but he almost certainly wasn't a King of the Britons. There is thus no real “regal heritage” or “pioneering legacy” for Vineyard Farms to trade off of.

Secondly, there is no concrete evidence to link the non-existent King Ludd with Luddesdown anyway, despite the plausibility of the name.

In terms of the origins of Luddesdown, Edward Hasted’s ancient and renowned History and Topographical Survey of the History of Kent Volume 3 tells us that:

”ADJOINING to Meopham, eastward, lies Luddesdon, commonly called Luddesdown. In the Textus Roffensis it is written Hludesdune, and in Domesday, Ledesdune. This place takes it name from the two Saxon words, leod populous, and dune collis, i.e. the peopled hill, alluding to its situation in this hilly country."

Alternatively, the name of Hludesdune, as cited in the 10^th century Textus Roffensis (Book of Rochester) translates as “Hludes Hill”: it may be that Hlude was a local chieftain of the area. “Hlude” also translates from the Anglo-Saxon as “loud” (and may be the origin of the term "hullabaloo"): perhaps the hill referred to was a meeting place.

But whichever way you slice it, there were no plagues of dwarves, no red and white dragons, no magical giants and no mythical kings in Luddesdown’s history.

Perhaps Luddesdown’s history was just far too boring, obscure and mundane for Vineyard Farms and so they simply decided to invent a more glamorous one to suit their own ends. Perhaps they just are jealous of their (and far more liked) competitor Chapel Down's genuine historical links to their own area and local community, links that they are proud to advertise. Perhaps VF felt they therefore needed to pay a historian to come up with a plausible-sounding load of mythical old cobblers in order to try and give some substance to their whimsical choice of an estate name.

(They have “form” in that respect. After all, they have just paid a top King’s Counsel to argue a legal case that the green belt/AONB planning restrictions affecting their billionaire’s £30m Xanadu can be waived aside, because it really is just the same as an agricultural tin shed, isn’t it?)

Or perhaps they've just been badly advised. After all, Vineyard Farms Ltd are largely just a bunch of business managers, advertising wonks and accountants, not historians. It would be quite amusing to think that a high-powered, multi-million pound company, and one that was looking forward to basing its entire branding strategy on having a "regal heritage", was misdirected by a preference for fantasies and legends rather than historical fact.

Whatever the reason, we should just laugh at their somewhat feeble attempts to subvert our local history to suit their own corporate marketing purposes - but thanks to things like ChatBot AI, made-up twaddle can soon become main-stream. Repeat nonsense often enough and clever-clever algorithms will pick it up and turn it into “the truth” - or at least what the lazy and credulous regard it as.

Vineyard Farms have bought up huge swathes of our local parishes and are aggressively reshaping and policing them in order to hijack their future for profit and glory.

Now, it seems, Vineyard Farms want to reshape and hi-jack our past as well.

Just my opinion of course, but could they really be any more contemptuous of the local area (and its people) than that?

Money can certainly buy you vast swathes of historic green-belt AONB farmland and enable you to industrialise it for profit. Money might buy you a favourable public inquiry result. It might even buy you a reinvented, glamorous history.

But, as the song goes, it can’t buy you love... 

Daisy Time...

Ox-eye daisies are loving the cool and desperately dry summer so far...

"Bailey's Field", just off the Cam path in Halling...

Just down from Peters Bridge roundabout...

Bore's Hole from Peters bridge...

Mute Swans - part of a gang of ten adolescents I've seen on the river at Halling...

Falling Flat...?

I have been wondering when we might hear from the Planning Inspectorate regarding their almost inevitable approval of the Vineyard Farms’ bid to build a billionaire’s vanity winery on the supposedly “protected” green belt area of outstanding natural beauty of Cuxton’s Upper Bush valley.

Apart from some wishful boasts in the Daily Treehugger (a.k.a. The Guardian newspaper – who somewhat hypocritically seemed to see nothing wrong in the proposed despoiling of a green belt AONB for commercial gain), our new feudal overlords at the winery have been rather quiet since the inquiry finished some two months ago at the start of April earlier this year.

I thought perhaps their dormant webpage might have sprung into life given their optimism, but at the moment it tells us that their “sparkling future” is still “coming soon”.

One new addition is a “shop here” tab, however. Clicking on that leads you to a promo page for their latest brew, the weirdly-named “Silver Reign”. In my (admittedly somewhat jaundiced) view, it seems a rather arrogant branding, redolent of Vineyard Farms’ imperious ambitions to reign supreme over the U.K.’s wine market.

I was initially impressed with the apparent five star reviews, but this seems to be a sleight-of-(Silver?)hand, however - when you click on the review link, the reviews are just general ones related to the supplier, (“The Wine Caverns”), rather than for the wine itself.

Indeed, quickly scrolling through the most recent comments for the past few months, none of them seemed to be about “Silver Reign” at all. Perhaps it’s more of a golden shower than a “Silver Reign”, as forgettable as their last effort. Who knows?  I can’t find any independent reviews of it on-line, anyway.

The boast about “Silver Reign” being a recipient of an award from the “Effervescents Du Monde” - “an international competition between The Best Sparkling Wines In The World”, apparently - also seems somewhat overblown. Only two UK wines featured, both from the Silverhand Estate, and neither of them made it into the top 18 of the final judge’s list.

However, what really did catch my eye was the marketing blurb on the so-called “Technical Sheet”…

…”Silver Reign is a reflection of our regal heritage. We invoke King Ludd's pioneering legacy to bring the unique terroir in the Garden of England to life, producing England's finest sparkling wines…”

All this “King Ludd” stuff is, of course, total nonsense. 

Claims to a “regal heritage” merely seem to be a rather desperate marketing ploy. However, even though their own real “heritage” is quite brief to date, Vineyard Farms can still claim some genuine history, at least when it comes to its past record of desperate marketing strategies.

The “Shop Here” tab on their “Silverhand Estate web-page” doesn’t refer to its earlier produce, such as their M&S branded “Bramble Hill” (which even The Sun only rated as a 3 out of 5)…

…and particularly not their “Harlot” (yes, you read that right) branded wines.

When I first came across it last summer, I initially thought the “Harlot” brand name was a clever play on words (along the lines of the famous jibe by Margot Asquith) and that the “t” was silent, as in “Merlot”.

From the "Harlot" web page - and everybody's answer to the question is, of course, "none of the above"...

A quick look at its awful, garish web-page (and be careful – prolonged exposure to flashing lights can induce epilepsy…) soon proved me wrong, however. The intended target audience very clearly seemed to be quite narrow and not very clever (e.g. Essex Girls out for a hen-night), the sort of folk who would almost certainly pronounce the “t” in Merlot, and probably in a “Sarf-fend” accent as well. 

I thought that perhaps MDCV UK Ltd had decided to let the Monty Python team run its marketing campaign for this one...

As with all things associated with Vineyard Farms/MDCV UK Ltd, the “Harlot” webpage is a strange one. There is no actual mention of Vineyard Farms, the Silverhand Estate or even MDCV UK Ltd itself.

The bottles bear the Silverhand logo, however, and some of the marketing blurb is undoubtedly MDCV UK’s, with the usual boasting of their “plans to revolutionise the English wine market” and how they “have established the largest vineyard in the UK and will be the biggest producer of English wine by 2025, with a production of up to 5 million bottles annually”.

Other marketing slogans for “Harlot” seem quite questionable. “The perfect fizz for a boozy lunch” is one such banner. Whatever happened to “Drink Responsibly”? Should their winery get built and the tourist traffic starts funnelling down Cuxton’s little Bush Road past the local primary school, I’m sure the school-run mums and dads will appreciate the thought of Vineyard Farms’s punters and their “boozy lunches” interacting with the local traffic flow.

Unfortunately, attempting to check the MDCV UK web-site for details on their “Harlot” brand brings up all sorts of hacker warnings. It seems their obsession with security doesn’t extend to IT…

It is clear that the brand line is very much an MDCV product though, but one that they seem to want to keep separate from their other premium lines, as if its parent company was somewhat ashamed of it and didn’t want to be seen with it in public.

It was Rupert Murdoch (anglicising a famous H.L. Mencken quote) who said that “No-one ever went broke by underestimating the taste of the English public”. It's clear that the MDCV UK team behind the “Harlot” brand agree with him.

The rest of the UK wine market doesn’t. Some critics were decidedly sniffy about its “fake fizz” method of manufacture and the “provocative" marketing campaign.

Obnoxiousness as a brand attribute...?

Others suggest that the English wine market to date has been all about building a reputable quality brand at premium prices, and that a bunch of johnny-come-lately arrivistes looking to drag that brand downmarket really isn’t a smart move for anyone in the long term

So why am I digging up last year’s history now? Well, I was reminded of it when I bumped into a young acquaintance of mine and her friends at the Moot tap room the other week, and who had come along to sample the ales on offer.

Whilst their “designated driver” seemed perfectly happy to drink the coffee, the others were trying halves of the various brews. I made an inane comment about “shouldn’t you all be drinking Prosecco?” and quite rightly copped some abuse, good-natured though it was. 

It seemed that this particular group of twenty-somethings really didn’t care much for “Prosecco culture” and its connotations, and so I thought it would be a good time to raise their awareness of MDCV’s premier products, the “Harlot” range (examples of which were indeed available to sample at the Moot bar).

After the initial incredulity and laughter, out came the iPhones or whatever for verification and then the data searching. Within about 30 seconds, they had found a lot of the references I used in this post and some more besides.

Their verdict on the “provocative” advertising...?

One of VF's "Harlot" lovers "having fun"...

“Yuk”. “Tacky”. “Naff”. “Insulting to women”. “Condescending” were the more printable ones. There followed a very amusing discussion about the naming of a male-oriented product along the same lines, with suggestions such as “Gigolo”, “Himbo” and “Manslut” as potential brands (again, just the more printable ones).

From there, things went downhill, morally speaking. If Vineyard Farms really wanted to shock and “be provocative”, then why not call their wine no I won’t type that here.

All of which brings me to my point. Just what are MDCV UK/“The Silverhand Estate” trying to achieve? Are they looking to “shock” in their quest (on all fronts) to be “different”? Believe me, I have recently learned first-hand that Gen Z are pretty much unshockable. They are also well-informed, incredulous and funny.

As one of my new acquaintances suggested in a more serious aside, the “Harlot” campaign seemed rather childish and outdated. It was like an attention-seeking toddler trying to upset its middle-class mummy by shouting “Knickers! Bum! Willy! Poo!” All this clapped-out “Refuse To Conform” shtick is a totem from my old generation, not their young one.

Another suggested that these days, only a woman could get away with devising an advertising campaign that seemed to demean women. The result? Four young women who now won’t touch the Silverhand/MDCV brand with a barge pole and who may be just the tip of the iceberg in terms of “brand poisoning”.

MDCV UK don’t seem to be playing a very clever game at the moment. What’s worse is that they seem oblivious to the long-term consequences for themselves as well as for everybody else.

Their behaviour has blighted the lives of the residents of the little hamlet of Upper Bush. The residents' powerful account of this on the opening day of the public inquiry for the Vineyard Farms billionaire’s vanity winery must have surely made an impression on the planning inspector.

Vineyard Farms’ distant attitude throughout the winery planning process has also pissed off many of their three thousand neighbours in Cuxton. Can they really, long-term, survive the hostility of so many alienated local people, many of whom will now be actively watching their every move?

And now in addition, their brash, boastful and just plain weird marketing seems to have pissed off both some of the UK wine trade and their potential customers. 

So won’t we all just laugh and laugh if, perchance, they have managed to piss off the Planning Inspectorate as well?

Cheers...

Upper Halling has been bereft of watering holes since the sad demise of both the Robin Hood and Black Boy pubs back around the start of this century (which sounds a really long time ago when you put it like that). 

Happily for the thirsty of Halling, a new microbrewery has recently opened its doors at Court Farm...

The Moot brewery and tap room currently only opens from 12 - 6pm, Thursday-Sunday (10 a.m. - 6 p.m. weekends), but they are looking to extend their evening hours in the summer, so I believe. 

Watch this space...

Patrick, one of the Moot team and a local lad from Halling, got fed up with the advertising profession and has bravely decided to turn a hobby into a trade. I really hope it works out for him and his mates at Moot.

If their current offerings are anything to go by, success will be well-deserved (although of course not necessarily guaranteed in these trying times). They normally have four of their own ales on tap, plus offerings from other local micros. They do a taster tray of their own stuff for eight quid which is a well worth a try on your first visit, but for my part I have decided that I like their refreshing, crisp Kapa pale ale, a tasty session beer that weighs in at around 4.4%. 

Good things brewing - behind the scenes at Moot.

It's great to see Court Farm and Andrew Lingham giving small businesses like this a place to get started.