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| Christmas tree nursery. photo Manfredrichter |
Podcast of chapter 10 from 'Route and Branch' by Bill Clark continued. Full podcast available here:
Doctor J F Varley died in 1981, he was a life Member of the CPS, but other than that, no one in the CPS knew much about him, and it came as a surprise to hear that he had left one third of a large bequest to them – two other recipients being the National Trust and the RSPB. Some £110,000 was paid in 1982, with a further £35,000 or so in 1985. Even disregarding money from the sale of a house and reparations for land taken for the M11 motorway at Coton, this immediately put the CPS on a more favourable financial footing; the hand to mouth existence of former years should be no more.
I saw a, ‘now or never’ chance to get Wandlebury’s last 18 acres of arable put down to flower meadow. However we had a very cautious Treasurer – he had had to be – and I knew even now, he would not be keen to lose the income from this land. I suggested to Steve Donoclift – that year’s Merrist Wood student – that he could draw up my plan as part of his College dissertation. (We couldn’t have dreamed that 28 years on, he would be visiting with his two sons – my grandsons – to play in the field!) I later approached CPS Vice Chairman, Gwyneth Lipstein with the first rough proof. She was very enthusiastic, but thought we should enlarge the small tree nursery at the north end, into a commercial venture. Realising we needed to make both a good business plan, as well as a pretty meadow, I spent any spare minute with Steve, honing the presentation for the future Committee meeting.
By the time we had finished, the field plan looked quite handsome. A nice curved hedge snaked across the centre of the north field. Behind the hedge – besides our tree nursery – were thousands of Christmas trees. In the first season we could sell hundreds of half to one metre trees, then as the years progressed, four or more metre trees would be available too; the enterprise should eventually equal the farming income. Regarding the flower meadow, grants were attainable from the Countryside Commission, City Council, South Cambs and the County Council, keeping the cost to a minimum for the Society. Although Gwyneth liked the plan, she was not at all sure the vote would go our way, ‘Can you give a forecast of the profits to come on the Christmas tree venture – should it be on an even larger scale, perhaps the whole of the north field?’
On the morning of the meeting my final inquiry was answered. My profit margin on the trees held good; the bad news being that year on year, people were turning away from real trees. I closed my folder with a sigh; ‘Oh Dr Varley,’ I thought, ‘Why didn’t you make yourself known to me, I could have encouraged you to fund your own field.’ I jumped to my feet to answer the phone, ‘Ah, hello Bill,’ said Gwyneth, ‘how are things going?’ ‘Well I am ready for the meeting, but still apprehensive as to the outcome, might it help if we named it, ‘Dr Varley’s Field?’ ‘Bill, you’re a genius, see you shortly.’ During the meeting Gwyneth introduced my proposal for taking in hand the Telegraph and Shooting Shed fields, and Chairman Sir Desmond Lee, invited me to talk it through. I placed our field plan in the centre of the table and proceeded with the explanations, putting emphasis on the future income; leaving Gwyneth to come in at the end with the idea of the name change.
One of the three members I feared would be against it, spoke up, ‘I am afraid I am not in favour at all; why on earth make yourself a lot more work by growing and selling Christmas trees?’ ‘Exactly,’ broke in another of the trio, ‘Take away the commercial venture, and it is a good scheme.’ ‘It is obvious that it should be one large flower meadow,’ agreed the third, ‘However, I am not at all happy with the name, Dr Varley’s Field sounds a bit of a mouthful.’ ‘Varley’s Field sounds much better,’ said a fourth member. A mutter of agreement from all and sundry ensued, and in a daze I heard the Chairman say, ‘Well that’s settled then Bill, when are you going to start?’
The last crop grown in the field was winter barley – not a crop that could be under-sown as I did with the Picnic Field, and so it was a case of waiting until the harvest was off. As it happened, things had moved on since I planted the Picnic Field, not only were there even fewer wild meadows to harvest seed from, there were less, ‘seed houses’ in business, but more folk – from Prince Charles to City Park Managers and Coal Tip restorers, all wanting seed to create ‘Conservation Areas.’ It was to be September before I gained delivery, of what I discovered afterwards was just about the entire UK quantity of many varieties! Of the five companies I contacted, only one could supply enough for more than one hectare, and even by rounding down the area with my tree and arable plantings, I still needed to plant just over six hectares.
Another shock was that rarity had pushed the value sky-high; even if those firms could have supplied my needs, we could never have afforded to buy. The whole field price for 320 kilos, varied from £500 through to a massive £16,500. Fortunately the one firm that said they could supply my needs, was the second cheapest, but for weeks they continually phoned to say certain species were unobtainable, could they change for this or that – even from foreign climes, and the problem there was aliens, but I could weed them out as they grew – one or two did turn up. Another worry was that a grass acclimatised abroad, could have difficulty when sown in our dry, chalky soil, but as this could be a problem from another part of Britain, I allowed the changes.
Unfortunately, due to rain the harvest was late, so no chance to sow before the winter. The heavy crop had also laid in many areas, leaving much straw behind. The Merrist Wood student, Edward Wills, needed tractor driving experience, and he certainly got all he needed – as the cultivator blocked every few feet in places. I reluctantly decided to join the stubble burning brigade – at least it would be the last time that I would ever need to do it. As it happened, it also turned out to be one of the last seasons in the country before it was outlawed altogether! Once the deed was done, the cultivating was an easy task, if a little on the sooty side for Edward, and he soon had a fine tilth encouraging the weed seeds to grow, he was even able to cultivate the first flush before he finished his time with us.
Chapter 10 continues with Protecting Rare Farmland Weeds https://routeandbranch.blogspot.com/2020/06/protecting-rare-farmland-weeds.html
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