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Loxton, with the little hamlet of Webbington lying underneath Crook's Peak, and her co-partner Christon, are typical little Somerset villages, amazingly unchanged down the ages. Loxton & Christon have a population of 150 odd - Webbington about 30 perhaps odder!
The chief points of interest in the Church are the 15th century stone pulpit carved in one piece and the 14th century font with its Jacobean cover. The registers date back to 1558. Loxton Church dates back to Norman and very early English and has a hagioscope(1) in the porch (not as sometimes wrongly called a Leper's squint). The Church lies deep in a hollow between two farms, and to early service you often wend your way mingling with a herd of Guernseys, and vividly before one comes that long ago, when in a lonely cattle shed that Child was born, which stands for everything worth while in our villages, our homes, our lives, and in all these little villages, though the Church is not as well attended as it might be, it stands in the hearts of all, as a rock of unshakeable strength and unfailing help when all else may fail.
Loxton congregation sometimes had their amusing moments as for instance when the old Squire as he walked up to his pew, used to jump the memorial stone covering his ancestors neath the floor, rather than tread on great-great-grandfather!
At Christon the main attraction is its lovely little Church, the earliest allusion to which is 1245, and from old records Christon appears to be spelt with a Y. The Arches of the Nave and chancel may date from the middle of the 12th century. A striking feature is the Norman doorway.
Two curious words found in the old books of the churchwardens accounts are still in existence in the district. 'Kitchen' to clear the reeds from the banks of the rhynes(2) and 'Throwing' to dig out the mud.
Both Loxton and Christon are mainly farms & cottages, one and only shop cum Post Office serves both villages and sells everything from A to Z. Many years ago to buy a 5/-(3) postal order you would hear.
You be'um too late Miss X 'ad 'ern yesterday.
No pub, only miles of sky as the evacuees described it, and a Londoner staying at Webbington was heard to exclaim.
Good God, a mile from a reel of cotton.
Though now tractors and all modern devices can be seen, there is still one good old horse plough to be seen and by dint(4) of sheer hard work of the owners 'them two youngsters' though now both well in their sixties, the crops are in and harvested and garnered(5), I wager just as soon and as well as with all the mechanical aids in the world.
A wind mill used to supply Loxton with their only water, but now alas it has gone, as too the village pump with its long handle, which disappeared when the unromantic under ground pipes came, and now the old Forge has gone. It is sad to see all the old land marks go.
Not long ago on some cottages at Christon being demolished an anchor was dug up. This apparently was always carried when the collections for the Old Thrift Clubs(6) took place: this ancient relic has been preserved and can be seen at the Manor Farm, Christon.
An interesting geological feature of Loxton is a Cave, discovered in 1862. Far in the interior is a rocky pool of crystal clear water, surrounded by stalactites, but history relates waggon loads of these were carried away, and from the size of the scars, this may well be true.
At one of the Webbington Farms two medlar trees are still to be seen, a rarity nowadays, but as a child, the writer remembers driving 3½ miles in a little low pony chaise to buy these self same medlars, thought a great delicacy, but to her tasted as they look, ROTTEN.
There have been great achievements of late, the restoration and equipment of the lovely Lady Chapel, the window of which is in Memory of those who gave their lives in the two Wars, over £600 was raised to complete the Chapel, and two years later over £1,300 to enlarge and equip the Parish Hall. This building owes its origin to a quarrel between the old Squire and Rector at that time, over mainly the length of his sermons, so to have his own back, the Squire built a Methodist Chapel exactly opposite the Rectory gate, and this is now the Parish Hall.
The Women's Institute, which had rather to fight its way into existence, as having originated in Canada who could say what wild West ideas might ensue: however it is a flourishing concern of about 40 members and they are usually at the back of most village activities, doing all the donkey work, and who more fitted say some with a slightly venomous twinkle!
One older day recreation is still kept going, that of eeling, this takes place by the light of the moon and provides much fun and a cheap supper.
Modern youth could learn much from these old village days, the care and tidying away of their tools and farm implements - in the old Squire's day, all his teams of cart horses had their own particular bits and pieces of harness and chains and champs, and woe betide he who did not put them every night into their own particular corner belonging to each horse, clean and shining like the Court of Sheba; now to find a spanner or a bit of chain would take a month of Sundays, and then find it rusted and clogged.
And so ends this story of a village, really little more than a chapter of an era, so steeped in folk lore and romance, that today it reads more like a fairy story.
(C.H.Fearfield, November 1953)
Notes:
(1) an opening, 'low side window' about 0.5m square, barred with an ancient iron grating.
(2) usually pronounced REEN, a word used throughout Somerset to represent a large drainage ditch, probably of Saxon origin.
(3) 5/- (5 shillings) is equivalent to twenty five new pence. There were 20 shillings to the £1. The slang word for shilling was 'bob'.
(4) meaning to make your mark.
(5) meaning gathered.
(6) a savings club for benefit in times of sickness, unemployment and death, similar to a friendly society.
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