According to Girobank magazine 1950 prices X 18.60 = 1997 prices

Independent 1956 prices X 12 = 1997 prices

It was in the latter part of the summer of 1930, five years before the formation of the Ramblers' Association, that the rambling Club was formed. About this time Pope Pius XI made an appeal for Catholic Action and Catholics of all social spheres began to take an interest in the future welfare of the Church in England. Non Catholic rambling clubs were becoming numerous, and it was essential to form a club with pure, clear and strict Catholic principles.

After correspondence in one of the Catholic papers on the subject of social intercourse several young people got together and enjoyed a few nice rambles in the countryside. As a result of this a club called St Christopher's Rambling Club was formed. However, during the early days the patron was changed to St Francis. It was thought that St Christopher, being the patron of motoring, was likely to be in opposition to walkers.

The co-founders were Miss Mary Curran (later Mrs Mary Lowe) and Miss Margaret Runacres (later Mrs Margaret Morgan). With Fr Healy's approval and kind permission a ramble list was placed in the church porch at St Mary Moorfields, and the first ramble took place on 24 August 1930 when 13 people attended. It was led by Margaret Runacres from Boxhill via Ranmore Common, Friday Street and Leith Hill to Holmwood. The ramblers set themselves to follow the Church's ideals in the spirit of St Francis. They encouraged individual strength and talent to be used for the benefit of all members.

A committee was set up under the guidance of Fr F D Healy, Rules were drawn up and submitted for the approval of Cardinal Bourne. He also gave his blessing to the members and appointed Fr Healy Ecclesiastical Assistant to the Club. The Annual Club Mass for Members commenced that year - 1930. The Annual Mass for Deceased Members started in 1943 after the death of Kathleen Ames. These Annual Club Masses continue today and are incorporated in the Club Rules. In 1932 a Mass was said for the repose of the soul of the father of Margaret Hull and so the custom of having a Mass said for a member's deceased parent began.

Application for membership could be made after visitors had attended three rambles and this would then be considered by the committee. A charge of 6d per visitor's ramble was made and this was deducted from the membership subscription. The subscription was small at 2/6d (12.5p). The only other requirement was that members should be good living catholics. Club badges, in the papal colours yellow and white, cost 6d each.

Generally twice a month, sometimes every Sunday, rambles were made to the various Home Counties, but the rule was that the fare should not exceed 3/- (15p) return. When more than 30 people were present they obtained specially reduced fares, being printed with the Club colours -yellow and white, and carriages reserved. Sometimes a short ramble of ten miles and a strenuous one of 16 miles were arranged on the same day to enable members to choose their own pace. The ramblers formed a habit of attending lone country churches for Benediction where possible.

Ladies were recommended to wear thick shoes with low heels, stockings, skirt and blouse with sleeves; and gentlemen to wear shoes, stockings, trousers or shorts and shirts with sleeves, each to carry a rucksack containing lunch, change of stockings and shoes - light ones on the occasions when there was a social evening after tea.

The Club was really established after the first Easter pilgrimage in 1931, when thirty members walked the 80 miles from London to Rochester and back in four days. This Pilgrimage was in honour of St John Fisher and St Thomas More. In those early days a press representative reported most of the Club meetings and activities. As a result of this frequent updates of the Club appeared in print. The pilgrimage was reported in the Universe, as was the first AGM in October 1931. Some activities were reported in the Catholic Times, the Daily Mail, Catholic Herald and Cork Examiner. A good way indeed for keeping catholic awareness to the general public, and at the same time informing catholics about the Club.

The rambling Club met with extraordinary success since its inauguration and the second AGM in 1932 reported 164 members on its books, one of the leading catholic rambling clubs in the country.

This letter was received by the Club in 1932.

The writing under the address says "More full address not known but the club is well known.  A credit to the Royal Mail and the growing size of the Club.

December 1932 saw the formation of a Catholic Holiday Association having for its objective the closer co-operation of the many catholic rambling Clubs up and down the country, with a view to promoting holiday tours, rallies, inter-club rambles etc. Any catholic organisation (rambling or otherwise) could become affiliated. The Association asked if any of the Club members would be interested in leading on their holidays.

Members were encouraged to express and develop their talents. The Club put on a Passion Play at Hampstead, 7 and 8 April 1933. They produced and presented Francis Gonne's play "Unto Us

a Son is given" at the Everyman Theatre, Hampstead. Absolute sincerity characterised the performance of these amateur players and it really gripped the audience. So many children accompanied by nuns and teachers put in an appearance for the afternoon matinee for school children that it was not possible to accommodate more than half of them. To prevent disappointment (some children had travelled long distances) the Players put on an extra performance.

A pilgrimage to Rome for the closing ceremonies of the Holy Year was made at Easter 1934. A party of 40 left London after first attending Mass at Westminster Cathedral. They enjoyed a tour around Rome, attended the canonisation of Blessed John Bosco and had an audience with the Holy Father. It was on this occasion that Fr Flood obtained for the Club the Relic of St Francis and a signed Papal Blessing. They visited the shrine of St Francis of Assisi and spent a few days at leisure in Rome.

For members of the Club who were unable to go to Rome there was a second Pilgrimage organised over the Easter week-end. They walked about 50 miles starting at Stokenchurch and finishing at Henley-on-Thames on Easter Monday.

The Club Annual Retreats date back to the earliest years of the Club. At first they were weekend retreats held in Lent and Advent. Since 1934 they have mainly been held in Lent. From Advent 1934 until the war years the retreats for men and women were held separately the men going to the Jesuit House at Manresa, Roehampton and the women going to either the Cenacle, Hampstead or La Retraite, Clapham Park.

The first Mass was offered on the Club site on Whit Monday 25 May 1934 by the Club Chaplain Fr C B Flood. It was the Club intention when purchasing the land to try to establish a Mass Centre, and have a regular weekly Mass offered there. The priest from the Southwark Travelling Mission went to a different village every week to say Mass. The Fifth week Mass was on the Club site. Before starting out for Mass (at Snodland, West Malling, Wrotham or Hartley) the sandwiches were made. They were then enjoyed after Mass with tea made in Church Hall, British Legion Hall or Public Library Hall. The camp site was very popular and got regular use. Mary and Paddy Lowe lived nearby and they stowed some of the equipment so that campers did not have to carry everything to the site all the way from home.

A special weekend camp, from 4th to 6th May 1935, was held for the Jubilee of King George Vth. For the coronation of King George VI a day, with Coronation Beacon, was held at the camp on Wednesday 12th May 1937. Members either travelled down the evening before and spent the night at the camp or travelled down on the day. On Sunday 26th June 1938 a party went down in the morning to prepare tea for the members of the Fulham SVP.

Some of the Club rules relating to the camp:-

Rule 24. The authority in the camp. That a man should be in charge of the camp: that he should delegate a man to be responsible in every way for the men and have absolute control of the men's section; that he should delegate a woman to be responsible in every way for the girls and to have absolute control of the girls' section.

Y The men's tents;

Z The girls' tents.

That if St Francis of Assisi Catholic Ramblers Club ceases to function for one year consequent upon present hostilities, the committee and the President shall, after consultation with Southwark Diocesan authorities, have absolute power of disposition over the real and personal estate belonging to the Club, which power shall be exercised at their discretion alone.

Proposed by Miss J Coombes Seconded by Miss Mary McGuinness.

Luckily this never had to be enforced.

Four members were killed in the war; Bill Gould and Jimmy Mason died in a Japanese Prisoner of War Camp; Wilfred Rowe and Bob Smeaton were killed in plane crashes - Wilfred at sea and Bob in the Welsh mountains near Wrexham.

At the Christmas Party, during the show produced by Jo Coombes, Vi Eberlein sang a song dedicated to Club members in the fighting forces.

You're in the NAVY, Wilfrid Rowe, When waves do roll and breezes blow, When you've scuttled the German fleet You can come to us all for a treat.

You're in the ARMY, Georgie "D", You're helping our artillery, You were the firs one to join the ranks And we send you our love and thanks.

You'll soon have great Victories Winston Churchill will bring us these.

You're in the WAAFS now, Maisie dear,

We'll win the war now, never fear,

You look so dainty and full of charm

As our girls all salute and say MARM

You're in the RAFS, John Somerville' You'll beat the Huns, we know you will, Just swing your kiltie and set your jaw And we won't have the Huns any more.

You're in the Far East, John Ashbourne Feeling all lonely and forlorn, Here we are sending our love to you And we know you're thinking of us too.

You're in the WRENS now, Eva Norman, You so smart in Uniform-um As you pace the deck with a Yo-heave-ho And the Navy shouts "A jolly good show".

You're in the ARMY, Sexton Fred, You march for miles and search for bed, You've liked to ramble with us before But you won't want to walk any more.

You're in the RAFS now, Sunny Jim, Monica must miss your cheery grin, You lend weight to any task you find And you'll soon see your washing on the line.

You're on a search light, Eileen Pet, You are the best AT we have met, No German raiders will dare come nigh When your light shines up high in the sky.

We wish you all a Happy New Year Brimful of Happiness and cheer, Thank you for clapping our little show So Good-Night and God Bless, Cheerio.

Our first Easter Pilgrimage was from the church of the English Martyrs, at Chelsea, to Rochester on the Pilgrim's Way, and the following year we completed this by starting at Rochester and going on to Canterbury. These were quite strenuous weekends as we started on Good Friday and returned on the Monday. Gradually our pilgrimages became more ambitious and holidays were arranged for visits to Lourdes and Assisi. Another big project was the production of a Passion Play, involving a lot of hard work for the producers Faith and Marcia Ivens-Ferraz - you will see my somewhat faded programme on the notice board.

I cannot take any credit for the running of the rambling club after the early years, but Mary continued to do a lot of organising. Paddy had bought a piece of ground at Meopham and many happy weekend camps were enjoyed there.

The continued success of the club was due to the hard work of the secretaries, treasurers and committees who followed us, and particularly to the committees who functioned during the war years, and still offered rambles on Sundays!

When we all met for the Silver Jubilee dinner, Mary was unable to be with us, and I was called upon to make a speech. Being a co-founder of the club was comparatively easy and certainly enjoyable, but speech-making for me is a real penance and I'm no good at it!

I hope you will accept this brief account of the early days of the Club in lieu of a speech. My sincere thanks to all who have worked so hard to make this such a great and memorable day and I pray that our Club, with the help of St Francis, will continue to grow and flourish, and bring as much happiness and pleasure to all as it brought to us in the early days.

Late in 1946 because of severe train restrictions members were advised to meet in Central Station "should any train listed in the programme be cancelled". The notice continued until 1951, by which time the coal shortage had improved and the railway timetables appeared more reliable. They learned by experience the necessary skills required to cover distances in difficult going in the shortest possible time - map reading, rock hopping, scrambling and climbing. A proper log was kept on each walk. These walks paved the way for some of the heroic exploits of the `fifties'.

Travelling to and from walks the girls always wore skirts and boys long trousers. Slacks and shorts were never worn.

Most of the camping trips made provision for the overnight stops at accommodation houses. The choice of pack lay between knapsack, rucksack and swag.

In every generation there is a shift in what is regarded by society as acceptable or unacceptable conduct. Fr Thomas, director of the lay apostolate, who had spiritual oversight over the Club in this formative stage put forward the view that it would be against Catholic ethics to have mixed camping trips. Camping activities were temporarily suspended. Many foremost members later resigned over the ban on mixed camping. The committee was advised that, as the club could not conduct mixed weekend trips, it should provide weekend walks for boys and girls separately. As time went on mixed groups did take part in overnight trips, but the men and ladies were required to set up separate camps out of sight of each other. Sometime later FRC announced at a general meeting that the restrictions on mixed camping were suspended for a period of 12 months, when the matter would be reviewed. No further pronouncement was ever made on the subject.

"The Catholic Bushwalker" contains a tale about when Ted Heslin and Hannah Plowman went down to Upper Breakfast Creek in January 1955 to do an exploration. Hannah took just a sleeping bag as she intended to take Mrs Carlon at her word to "just turn up". On arrival the house was already full of sleeping bodies so she had to share Ted's tent. They packed up and moved off quickly early next morning promising each other that they would never reveal this episode - such was the stigma that would attach to it. Hannah told FRC this story in 1974 and he threw back his head and laughed and laughed.

The idea of the club badge was mentioned at the first general meeting in August 1943. The Flame Robin surmounting the letters "CBC" was adopted in May 1950.

In 1954 voices were heard about choosing a more fitting design for walking organisations. The new design for the club badge was adopted - that of a silver - triple hob. After the adoption of the new badge Fr Coughlan obtained 100 Flame Robin badges and within the next few years members bought 64 of these.

In the 1970s Fr Bendeich moved that the club take as its emblem the Red Robin, thus replacing the triple hop. It had gone full circle.'

The CBC has developed in a different way to the Ramblers both because of the terrain of the countryside and the many skills of its members. They do walking, camping and holidays. Songs and music writing are part of their life.

In the 1950s with the association of Monsignor Favier, an amateur explorer and speleologist of some repute, caving expeditions began. He passed on to the Club information he had concerning caving. An enthusiastic response followed.

Frank Cooper had a real interest for rock climbing and later mountain climbing in the early fifties. With input from other like minded people members were trained to make assaults on the major peaks in the Alps. Abseiling skills were taught at the Club's practice days. Some of their members have sadly been killed in accidents. Frank himself emigrated to New Zealand and became quite an accomplished mountain guide, only to be killed in an accident in 1955. He and Jack Murphy had just climbed the three peaks of Mt Cook. They started down the rock below Low Peak. The wind was strong, cloud rushed across from the Hooker Glacier and it began to rain. In the poor visibility they entered the wrong gully and then could not determine which route was correct. With only 500' to go they slipped on snow covered ice. The snow avalanched and they were partially buried. Frank was killed in the fall and Jack was badly injured. Jack reached the Empress Hut and collapsed. Two days later he came to. He managed somehow to send a short message using the hut's emergency radio which had to be powered by a hand cranked generator. It usually takes two people to use the transmitter, one gives the message while the handcranks the generator. Hamish MacInnes, an international climber, who was in the Haast Hut on the other side of the mountain tells in his book "High Drama - Mountain Rescues From Four Continents" how for an unknown reason he got out of his sleeping bag, switched on the radio and heard faintly "Accident - Empress Hut, urgent!" Although fit he found it difficult enough on his own to handcrank the generator and operate his radio to get help to Jack.

Frank sleeps on the white slopes of Cook, but to those who walked with him he lives again in many a mountain walk, and strides beside us along the tracks of memory.

In the early 70s cross country skiing was introduced to the CBC. Laurie Bell's great enthusiasm for the sport had great impact. Peter Harrington became so enthused that he called a public meeting in 1975. The result of this was the formation of the New South Wales Nordic Ski club. Over the years the challenge of cross country skiing has been taken up by many club members both young and old.

The CBC has kept good records over the years and the club is a good source of reference for the bushwalkers today. It has been said that nobody in Australia would write a serious piece about bushwalking without checking with the CBC for some of their technical and historical information.

What influence has St Francis of Assisi had on the life of the Club?

Certainly in the early years he was there or there abouts. The name alone is significant. Elsewhere in this book it is revealed that the original name was St Christopher's. The reason for the change can be seen positively or negatively. We have tended to regard it as an indication of a conflict between St Christopher's patronage of motorists and St Francis' love of walking. But that does violence to the memory of both saints -St Christopher gained his reputation (in legend), not for supporting mechanical methods of transport but for CARRYING the child Jesus on his back across a stream. On the other hand the preference for walking in the Franciscan rule was more a measure of the wish of the lawyers of St Francis' time to have a rule than of St Francis' interests.

So let us consider the mind of St Francis, in so far as anything is known about it and see if it has had any influence on the life of the club.

The essence of the Rule of St Francis was detachment from material things. In the thirteenth century a major manifestation of that detachment was the formation of the little brothers (known as the "poverelli") processing into towns in gear which was not acceptable in polite Italian circles. Is there a parallel here with the early post war years when members of the St Francis of Assisi Catholic Ramblers Club (SFA CRC) recognised one another at stations by the fact that their wear was not quite up to scratch. SFA CRC members were to be seen at Kings Cross, Euston, Waterloo etc on Sunday wearing sports jackets and trousers, and no doubt a smattering of smooth soled leather shoes. Other rambling groups were identified by their well waxed leather boots, correct outdoor jackets and plus fours. Does it take much imagining which group St Francis would have joined?

The simplicity of St Francis was always obvious in the approach of the members to enjoying the zest for life. So in the years when a newsletter was published separately from the programme the publication was distinguished by the simple covers, some of which have been used for the frontispiece of some of the sections of this history, and the ancient typewriters which tried the patience of at least one volunteer who tried to use one of them. The essential activity of the club, rambling, has also always been pursued by train journeys and the membership of the club must have one of the lowest proportion of car owners of any club in England.

But there are also contrasts with the Franciscan spirit. One wonders, for example, what St Francis would have made of the debates over the years about restrictive clauses in the Club Rules, or the AGM which was held up by points of order for over half an hour. Hardly the preference of the Saint who rejected all forms of pomp and regulation. And what of the recurring debate about the admission of non catholics? Would the Saint who had such love for the universe and everyone and everything in it condone such exclusiveness?

The special ticket also allowed return on another line. Coaches being cheaper (particularly in the winter) allowed them to go much further out or to areas not served by train. To qualify for the party ticket or to fill a coach required thirty or more to come on a ramble. Sometimes there was a choice of ramble.

Frequently (in 1933/34 every two or three weeks) the Sunday ramble finished at the Club's camping ground for tea and a social evening, especially when there was a weekend at the camp as well. The camp was well placed, near Meopham in the Kent North Downs, for rambles from Sevenoaks, Shoreham, Farningham Road, Fawkham, Gravesend stations. The Boxing Day ramble finished at the camp with a festive tea and a sing song round the camp fire. Nearly as many rambles went to the Catholic Land Colony near Chartridge, again for a social or sing song but also to play cricket or football. It could be reached by rambles from Great Missenden, Chesham, Latimer, Tring, Amersham, Berkhampstead stations. Rambles also finished at Flouden and Sanderstead camps for tea and a social.

In March 1934 members not going on the Club's Holy year pilgrimage to Rome attended the Pilgrimage Mass at Westminster Cathedral and saw the pilgrims off at Victoria station before catching their train for a ramble from Leatherhead. This was also done for the Luxemburg holiday in 1938.

Several times between 1937 and 1941 rambles were led in the Bletchingley area finishing with Benediction, tea and a social at Underhills Training Farm (St Mary's), Bletchingley. This farm, in a beautiful valley near South Park was a popular venue with many Catholic organisations. It was run by the Southwark Catholic Rescue Society (now the Catholic Children's Society) to train young men from their schools in Orpington, Gravesend etc, in farm work. Many emigrated to Canada where they did quite well. During the war the Canadian army took the farm over. After the war few wanted to be trained in farm work and because of mechanisation there were few vacancies. The farm was sold and now belongs to the Anglican diocese of Southwark.

Leaders who could be relied on to contribute a ramble on most lists included: Mary Lowe, Frank Austin, Anne O'Brien who was on the first Club ramble and her brother Dennis who led the 25th anniversary ramble on 9/10/55, J C Davis who also led on some of the Easter Pilgrimages and was one of the two club members who were Westminster cross bearers on the 1948 Walsingham pilgrimage, Leon Thomson, Joe Sudbery, Ernest Atkinson, the Tracy brothers, Gerald Hettich, Helene Merresy, Jack and Desmond McGuiness.

When the second world war started arrangements were made to meet on alternate Sundays at Westminster Cathedral and St Mary Moorfields and to `start off after Mass with our maps and take a train to a station that we shall decide upon and walk from there'. Fortunately this arrangement was not needed and the Club was able to draw up a definite programme of rambles which was kept to quite well. Distances were now a bit shorter, ranging from 12 to 15 miles. Most rambles were 12 miles but in April 1943 a 20 mile ramble was led. Trains were usually reliable. If the listed station was out of action because of an enemy raid Committee Members would meet members and take them to a station still functioning. Numbers coming out could be as few as 6 or 30 or more. Being required by the war effort to work 60 or more hours a week they were glad to be able to get out on the rambles and made every effort to come. They were supposed to carry gas masks but as fortunately they weren't needed they didn't. The Club

Programme now contained fuller details of rambles. Members were advised to check the Catholic Herald for last minute changes. The Catholic Herald, in spite of the paper shortage, continued to print details of Club events until paper rationing was introduced in 1943. Leaders were then asked not to make last minute changes to the lunch and tea places after details had been circulated.

The blitz which lasted from the end of August 1940 to May 1941 would have made arrangements very difficult. They would not know if the London terminus was still running trains. Having left London they would not know how or if they would get back. Sign posts and place names had been removed so leaders had to be good map readers or know the route well. Common land and public paths across arable land were now cultivated. Some areas were forbidden and once the Club strayed into one but fortunately no one found out. Tea was difficult to arrange but it was so popular that the leader usually managed it.

By 1941 notification had to be made by the preceding Wednesday as post was uncertain. Members were reminded that it was unfair in these difficult days of rationing not to notify and that in future those not notifying should make their own arrangements for tea - a warning repeated quite frequently.

By 1941 most of the prewar leaders had been called up. Wilfred Rowe who led in 1937, 1940 and 1941 was killed in a plane crash over the sea in 1944. Bill Gould who led in 1936 died in a Japanese Prisoner of War camp. Gerald Hattech, Desmond McGuiness, Marjorie Finch, Florence McNeil, Anne O'Brien were able to continue and new names appear as leaders - Margaret Branney (secretary of the Study Circle), Louis Dubbery, Paddy Sanders, Herbert Campbell, Philip Durrant, Frank Ellingham, Monica Grant (Club Secretary from 1939 - 1943), Irene Elkins, Eileen Green, Winnie Herring (Club Secretary from 1943 to 1945), Mary Keet, Winnie Lacey, Irene Ley, Patricia and Maisie McGuiness, Winnie Parker. Most leading several rambles on each list.

In July 1940 members were asked to lead rambles and not leave it to the few. A map reading ramble was held in January 1942 and a Sunday left free so prospective leaders could plan a future ramble.

On 17/10/43 the ramble was cancelled so that the women members could join the Pilgrimage of Catholic Women to invoke the English Martyrs to save our schools.

In October 1944 the Annual outing, a ramble to a place further out than usual, restarted. Going in 1944 to Chilworth Friary and St Johns Seminary, Wonersh; in 1945 to Great Missenden.

After the war the familiar names of John Ashbourne, Norah Smeaton (who continued leading until 1980), Leon Thompson (a leader until 1966), Fred Wood reappear as leaders. More and younger members join and new names appear as leaders including - Bill and Tony ( a leader until about 1985) Chainey, Archie Collins, Peter Culba (leading until about 1985), Eric Colegate (an unofficial B party leader), Kath and Eileen O' Sullivan, Maggie Hadfield, Alf Miller, Phyllis Barker, Stella Cooney, Walter Crossland, Tom Cummings, Kath Gallaher, Terry Hickey, John and Terry Hogan, John Hopkins, Margaret O'Connor.

The pointing finger of Eric counted the group carefully as we stood in the deserted square outside Hatfield Station - One! Two!! Three!!! and soon we were passing the main gates of the Park on the right, and turning quickly off the main road towards the Mill following the. path over the stile and across the soft meadowland dropping easily on to the road junction below Bush Hall - the clear blue sky and light breeze made easy walking as we crossed the stone bridge over the shallow River Lea and turned past the small Inn at Mill Green - the gates of Woodhall Farm stood open and we strode easily over the shingled path bypassing the many pot holes and turning away from the house to the arch of the narrow Railway Bridge away on the right - the path led us on easily towards the sight of the empty swimming pool down in the valley, and turning uphill we were soon moving towards the quiet village streets of the Lemsford area with its pretty little houses the comfort of the Rising Sun' was something to enjoy, and finding Mac waiting for us we were soon chatting merrily and eating our sandwiches in between.

As we gathered our forces for the afternoon the first spots of rain fell from the heavy skies overhead - it was a different group billowed by oilskins and shadowed by hats that passed the Old Mill as the rising winds flecked us with foam from the sluice gates, and climbed the huge ladder stile which leads into Brocket Park - uproar broke out for a moment as Freddie Wood entrenched on the top of the wall began a fist thumping electioneering address despite heavy barracking from' the many back benchers - a sudden onslaught forced him on, and we plodded on over the smooth spongy turf following Eric's steady steps towards Water End - the rain in driving force made our footholds uncertain as slipping and sliding we went down the sodden paths, the sloping lawns and huge cedars stretching from the house made a grand view as we passed over a stile and crossed a field towards Bluebell Woods - the quietness and delight of this spot beat off the thoughts of rain - Chestnut, Oak and Walnut grew among the overshadowing trees and seemed surrounded by rain spattered masses of bracken moss and fern - below us the deep densely wooded gully was lined thousands and thousands of growing fir trees - crossing another stile and continuing along the rough track we reached the splendid old stone built Elizabethan House above the shallow ford at Water End.

Alongside the river our track followed the hill to the right and suddenly dipped again towards the river continuing along the bottom of the valley - just as the roofs of Marsford came into sight Eric struck up towards the lane leading into the village, but instead of turning left, he went towards the right following the desolate woodland paths of Lamer Park beyond the Railway Level Crossing - from the debris laying around it looked like an Ex Army Haven - an odd tyre started a sudden rush along the road, Norah in merry mood, tried to lasso Tony with it and found the tables turned quickly as he wrapped it over her own and Kathleen's heads and rushed them helplessly along the track as they called in vain for help! _

Within a few minutes of leaving the station we were in the pleasure gardens of the old Castle grounds, and sliding down the winding paths towards the ice-covered lakes - the snow gave everything a tinsel effect, and as we eased through the iron gates leading to the High Street the clock tower and cottages under the morning frost.

The battered stile and toll post gave us our track into Reigate Priory after a short road trek -the ridge earth cracked and splintered under our feet, but as we forced our way along the narrow track, and climbed the snowy slopes the tall slender pines sloping away with the ridges gave us a grand view of hillside country. The open land stretching ahead was a completely untouched blanket of white snow - through the gaps below us on the right the swaying branches sent a film of soft flakes into the air, but a few flying saucers propelled by hand caused us to concentrate on our safety and deal with the invaders. For a few minutes the snowballs caused everyone to duck and wave, and then with a last sight of the lake, we slid down the hillside and reached the road.

I can understand it in the Springtime when the sleeping earth stretches and yawns awake; when the bare woods are tinted with the first delicate green of the tiny buds; when fresh-ploughed fields are brown blankets on the pulsing earth and the sower goes forth to sow his seed; when bird-song is everywhere, and nests, and primroses among last years leaves, and bluebells; when lambs leap and hearts are light and all that was old is renewed.

Ah yes! I can understand it in the Springtime, but why go rambling at this time of year?

I can understand it in the Summer when fruit and harvest are rich and heavy; when the hot sun beats down from the copper-bowl of the shimmering sky on the crests and troughs of the ocean-swelling corn; when all farm creatures bask in the happy sun and shining piglets enjoy a snuffling snooze on earthy beds, laid out like sausages or rashers of bacon (a foretaste of their future); when the bees `Skiflle' among the nodding flowers on lazy afternoons; when bare legs flash and splash in the sparkling pools; when afternoons are for resting and evenings for walking; and there are coach-trips, and shorts and seaside outings and ice lollies and sunglasses and summer dresses and cucumber sandwiches and Colne Springs in the cool of the night ...

Ah yes! I can understand it in the Summer time, but why go rambling at this time of year?  

I can understand it in the Autumn when Nature draws breath after the great maternity of the harvest; when rich green becomes yellow, red, and brown, and tall trees in Buckinghamshire valleys stand like liveried flunkies in their mufti-coloured ranks; when farm gates stand open, leaning and drowsing over the empty fields and the only fruits are nuts and berries; when cottage fire smoke hovers out on to the misty evening; when gay woollen caps and gloves and conkers can be seen and there are scufllings through the rustling leaves, and harvest moons, and apples and cider, and press-ganging for the Committee ...

Ah yes! I can understand it in the Autumn, but why go rambling at this time of year?

I can understand it in the Winter when the hard, solid, sleeping earth rings and crispcrackles under the iron-shod heel; when snow-flakes flitter from an all-enveloping grey blanket of the sky and great winds sigh in the naked trees; when the pale sun sparkles on a frost-rimmed gate and robin-redbreasts peck trees and pattern the white of the snow; when ramblers venture the night by hedge and dyke and cow-field to the warm welcome of the fire-flickering inns, and carol the Birth of the Saviour in enthusiastic discord; when there are Christmas rambles and holly and ginger wine and toasted tea-cakes and chicken sandwiches on Boxing Day; and wet feet and dry throats; and gloves and scarves and mufflers and sweaters and wind-cheaters and hats with tassels and caps with pom-poms ...

Ah, yes! I can understand it in the Winter, but why go rambling at this time of year?

Why go rambling at this time of the year?

B.M.P.

• Autumn 1957 magazine

Oh anorak thou didst come to me as one of many gifts. Now, as I sadly gaze on thee and see thy many rifts I think of dear departed days when thou wert in thy prime And the stories couldst thou tell them of thy rents and holes and grime.

It seemth but some weeks ago that thou wert spruce and new Protecting me from icy winds and rain and foggy dew. Ah then I wore thee proudly, as a solder on parade But I joined St Francis Rambling Club and soon my pride did fade.

When first they rolled thee in the dust "Desist!" - in vain I cried I wouldn't have been quite so concerned had I not still been inside! They also spilt strong mead on thee, till thou didst foully reek So I scrubbed thee and next time it rained I found that thou didst leak.

Who was it pulled thy sleeve nigh out and didst so cruelly laugh? Then called on one as wild as he to take thy photograph. Tho' twas not through joyous laughter that thy side seam didst split Ah no, some happy rambler put his great big foot in it.

Yet I patched thee and thou still couldst brave most any kind of weather Tho' now red ragged remnant, but thy badge holds thee together. And when unhappily I look on thee oh reeking rusty ruin I know that very soon I must needs go out and buy a new `un.

• Jack Eted
   
• Summer 1960 Magazine

Maurice Hickman on entering a tea place called Imp Inn: "No gobbling allowed"

Maurice Hickman when ramble was asked to wait until the farmer had rounded up his straying cattle: "We will be here till the cows come home"

SUNDAY MORNING

Too soon the Mass is ended and you set off again To hurry to the station and find out if there's a train There's one in fifteen minutes, just time to have a snack But get your ticket first, a queue might form e'er you get back The coffee tastes delicious, but your joy must surely wane When you bite the ancient sausage roll, and spit it out again But don't complain, you haven't time, so just pick up your pack You'll have to wait a while to make up for the food you lack.

The train gets in a five past one, ten minutes overdue The one four bus is on the hill, just going out of view The table at the bus stop shows the next one is at three "It's two miles to the pub at least" you mutter gloomily You've brought no map, so take the road is all that you can do You see the others leave the pub just as it comes in view You wave and shout and pray that someone in the group will see You running up the hill towards them puffing breathlessly.

The leader spots you and they wait until you reach the door "We'll let you stop for half a pint, you won't have time for more, We've been here now since five past twelve, there's still eight miles to tea And I've booked us in for five o'clock, so we can't wait you see No use to be protesting that hungry and footsore Just eat your lunch along the way, you'll get no break that's sure The lesson to be learned from this is plain as words can say So remember if it's raining when you wake up next Sunday.

• John Lawrence
  
  Spring 1968 Magazine
   

AN OCTOBER RAMBLE

It was going to be an unusual day. I realised that when I arrived fifteen minutes early for the train. Overcome with shock and exhaustion, threatened by the tougher standards demanded by the (non?) ramblers at the A.G.M., ardour damped by teeming rain, - I must have been mad to think that I needed fresh air!

I needn't have worried, as Norah Smeaton's ramble was a model for all prospective leaders. She kindly arranged for the rain to stop before we reached Great Missenden and, except for a few minutes drizzle, macs were not needed again all day. Trees, that had seemed disappointingly dull near London, now put on a brilliant show for us, continually changing hue as the sky gradually brightened.

Lunch was at Dunsmore, where a seafaring landlord showed an interesting display of models! Refreshed, we set off at the same comfortable brisk pace through field and wood in everchanging variety. Occasional pauses allowed us to admire views, chat and re-group as stragglers caught up -even the duty member met everyone before tea! There was mud, of course, to entice wayward feet on the slippery path to final downfall, but it did not stick, clinging, unwanted, like that of E---- (which shall be nameless!).

After an excellent tea, the sun, fleetingly glimpsed during the afternoon, shone forth boldly, scattering the clouds beyond the horizon and bathing the whole countryside in brilliant golden light. So far from London, with its dirt and noise, there was a magical quality in the peace and stillness of the evening. Our last sight was of stark trees, outlined on a hill against the glow of the setting sun.

Darkness fell, and with it the temperature. By a masterpiece of timing, we returned to Great Missenden as a train left and the pubs opened. For a while hour we could relax in a cosy inn by a roaring fire and reflect on the delights of a memorable day.

• Shan
   

        New Year 1964 Magazine

Letter to the Editor

Dear Editor

I would like to lodge a strong complaint against certain leaders who insist on leading us poor ramblers through water - which is frequently wet - and thick forests - which block out all the sun. This is the reason why our members are looking so pale (except for red, wet noses). I suggest the leaders take us on dry land (if we must walk through water, please make sure its dry) and in the open countryside so that we may recapture our beautiful tan which we lost some months (or ... years) ago.

Yours sincerely,

Your health and beauty expert,

MONSIEUR VIGOURBOY

Christmas 1956 Magazine

So if you take up rambling he careful how you go,

You'll find yourself walking on Sunday in rain and sleet and snow;

If you want to live in comfort, then take some advice from us

Don't ever be a rambler - it's better to go by bus.

ANON

Spring

Overheard on a ramble: "Mummy are they Gnomes?"

New member approaching group at London terminus: "St Francis of Assisi?" Duty member: "No Peter Fraser actually"

Len Bulaitis (who's brother is a tailor) when asked his name by duty member: "I've got it here somewhere" and showed him his coat label.

Near High Beech, Epping the Ramble was asked by a family with buckets & spades "where's the beach".

In May 1932 Fr Flanagan invited the Club ramble to join the Ballenger Pilgrimage to Little Missenden in honour of Our Lady of Missenden and the English Martyrs and he also arranged tea for them. They joined this pilgrimage again in 1934. In August 1937 the ramble joined the annual procession in honour of St Philomena at her National Shine at St Lukes Pinner.

After the war pilgrimage rambles were led to the Carmelite Shrine of Our Lady of Hartley. In the 1960's, after the Carmelite Friars had returned to Aylesford and rebuilt the Friary, Fred McAndrew lead rambles to Aylesford stopping for Mass at Hartley or Dode.

AYLESFORD

Present, Founder, and pre-war members of the Club converged by train, coach, car and on foot to a quiet corner of the Kent countryside on a warm sunny Sunday of May 7th. Their destination was the 12th century Church of Dode which was the centre of a thriving parish up to the black death of 1356. It was opened for Mass again in 1954 when the Bishop of Southwark offered Pontifical High Mass there and is one of the few pre-reformation churches in England that has not been used for non-Catholic services.

About 150 people packed the tiny church when Father Cassidy began Mass and reminded us the Mass was the same now as it was in 1346 though our own English language had changed much. After Mass and refreshments the ramblers moved off like a long caterpillar; crossing the River Medway, after lunch, in a ferry operated by a bearded Castro-like figure. They then walked along the pilgrims way to Aylesford. Tea was served by the charming young ladies of the Club and all heard Benediction in the recently completed attractive open air church. A memorable day for all who took part and thanks to the Committee and a special thank you to Fred.

• E.H.
   
• Summer 1961 Magazine

In June 1960 Peter Culba led an afternoon and overnight ramble from Blackfriars to Aylesford stopping for tea and a film show at a members home. Seven started from Blackfriars, two joined in the late evening at Swanley and eight at Eynsford at midnight. To keep the spirit of a pilgrimage, five minutes in every hour was set aside for silent prayer or meditation. Most areas of London had some rain and thunder but the pilgrims had a dry walk. Aylesford was reached at 9.15am, where after a quick wash they had breakfast in the Pilgrims Hall. Then they did the Rosary Way before going into Mass at 11 am, the two members who did not breakfast received Holy Communion. After Mass most went home but some stayed till about 4pm.

In August 1976 the Sunday ramble met the annual Arundel & Brighton Ecumenical Walking Pilgrimage and walked with them in the afternoon. Tom Gallagher, a Club Member, did the whole pilgrimage, other members joined for the August Bank Holiday. Next year Mary Lowe represented the Club on it and since then many Club members have taken part and often a Club ramble has joined them for a day.

In 1981 John Lawrence led a ramble finishing at St Edmunds Old Hall, Fr Tom Gardner's Parish for Mass, tea and a tour of the Museum housing documents and relics from the Penal Days.

In the late 1990's Tony Finnegan began the walks, in imitation of the pilgrimages of the `old days', to Worth Abbey for the Good Friday services.

• A VISIT TO WONERSH
  
  Sunday after Corpus Christi

During our ramble to Guildford on Sunday, June 19th, a visit was made to the well-known Seminary, St John's, situated half a mile from the old world village of Wonersh. It is half way up on a hill, and is a striking and impressive structure, Dutch Renaissance built in 1895.

On our arrival we were welcomed by two of the students who conducted us through the building. The interior of the Seminary is very reminiscent of boarding school, long corridors with class rooms, recreation rooms, etc. Passing into the Vestry we were surprised to learn that many of the vestments and altar pieces were made by the students, and were later shown their loom.

The Chapel was not outstanding in design or architecture, decorations were carried out in a blue and white colour scheme, whilst blue and gold predominated in the Reredos and Altar Canopy. We were struck by the unusual arrangement of the pews, on either side of the centre aisle were double rows facing inwards towards one another. Our group then visited the library where we were shown shelves of rare and previous manuscripts. and they also posses a very fine printing press.

From the roof we had a good view of the surrounding countryside and of the spacious and well laid out garden stretching below us around the Seminary.

At the conclusion of this tour we reassembled in the Chapel for Vespers and Benediction. Looking down from the Organ loft gave us an impressive view of the procession as it entered, with all its pomp and dignity. Students filed into their pews, the Priests assembled on the Sanctuary where the servers had already taken their place - the organ hushed its note, and Vespers began.

Towards the conclusion of this service candles were lighted and held by each student, illuminating the Chapel by double rows of lights. A brief Benediction took place, after which the students again formed their procession, each carrying a candle, and moved towards the door of the Chapel, where they were met by six little girls holding baskets of flowers, six small boys, including a very tiny one, also carrying candles and six students with large candles in gilt candlesticks, followed by visitors and ourselves, likewise supplied with candles.

As the procession wound its way to the first outside altar gay colours of flower petals covered our path, and once more those familiar hymns were taken up by each one. Benediction over, the procession reformed and proceeded to the second altar, after which we returned to the Chapel for the closing ceremony.

Leaving the Chapel one felt conscious of the privilege we had shared with the other visitors. Our humble worship had mingled with that of future disciples, nay apostles of Christ - namely rows of earnest and devout young students kneeling below us. We left strengthened in our resolve that like those chosen few we should do all in our power to carry the Faith by our word and example amongst our fellow workers in our own walk of life.

• E.M.M. - July 1949 Magazine

• THE CHRISTMAS RAMBLE (abbreviated)

The Christmas Ramble started from Betchworh Station. During the morning we noticed old railway sleepers strewn around beneath the trees in a coppice. Then we came to an old shed with railway lines laid through it. On the other side men were hard at work on an old engine. We realised the footpath was taking us through a museum for old trains in a disused overgrown quarry.

After lunch at Brockham Green, the walk continued through the rolling countryside of Surrey. A windmill stood out black and white at the top of a hill. As you can guess we had to climb that hill! The last lap of the climb was across part of Reigate Heath Golf course and a bench had been placed just at the top. Here some of us sat to recover and enjoy the view.

We diverted to look at the windmill. Music welcomed us. An old man was playing an ancient harmonium and an even older man was playing a violin he had made himself. It was in fact a very small church, beautifully decorated and at one time for the use of pilgrims to Canterbury. After the Reformation it fell into disuse and was made into a windmill and is now a church again.

The musicians were playing Christmas carols and invited us to request our favourites. We made ourselves comfortable on the benches and altar steps, picked up typed sheets of carols and sang with pleasure. The miniature church rang with sound. Oddly enough the two musicians had difficulty finding the music for some of the carols we chose from the typed sheets. When it was time to leave, the harmoniumist asked who we were and where we came from, On being told, he said our being Catholics explained the fervour with which we sang and went on to say that he was C. of E. and that they had had a Carol Service there the night before. As it was such a lovely day the two musicians went up again hoping that some people might pass that way and the Good Lord had sent us to sing for them. We put the sheets of carols back in a neat pile and filed out, then found they had come from John's rucksack, and were for the evening party.

The walk continued down a pleasant lane winding between high hedges, over a secondary road and up a steep footpath. We turned to see how far back the tail of the ramble was and saw we were being followed by a girl leading two goats and two smaller girls pulling a bale of hay on a tiny cart, while the goats made sure the hay was close behind. When the back had caught up we continued through Priory Park and were soon dropping down again into Redhill as the sun was setting.

After tea in Forte's, we went a few yards up the main road to St Joseph's Church Hall which the Hickman's had decorated the day before. There was a bit of difficulty with the plugs so Ellen obliged on the piano for the first few square dances. When Maurice returned with more equipment the tape recorder got going and Ellen was able to join in the dancing. We all had a very good evening with mince pies, homemade wine and more carols.

Mary Walsh Spring 1973 Magazine

Very occasionally a midnight ramble has been led.

We left Gomshall Station about 10.30pm. It was a fairly cold evening but dry and clear and the moon was very bright. There were 11 ramblers, including one new member. John Lawrence led the way with his ingenious little `golfing trolley' on which he carried the heavier luggage.

Having found the barn where we hoped to have a short rest after the barbecue before proceeding to Broadmoor for breakfast, some of us gathered wood to light a fire while others made preparations for cooking, under the direction of John. We had potatoes in their jackets, pork chops, fried eggs, bread, butter and tea. We finished off with Hickman home-made blackberry wine and birthday cake - it was Maurice Hickman's birthday! We put the fire out, cleaned up and retired to the barn about tam.

It was very cold because one side of the barn was open. Three people had sleeping bags. One person looked particularly comfortable in a hole in the hay about 6ft deep with several bales on top of him. Someone lost his boots under the hay but they were dug out in the morning. We couldn't help but laugh thinking of our nice warm beds at home.

At 4am we got up and lit the fire to get warm. We left for Broadmoor about 5.30am. While passing a house in a quiet lane, our voices and the clattering of John's trolley on the cobbles woke an old gentleman who put his head out of the bedroom window and shouted to John to

"pick that blooming thing up !"

We continued on tiptoe and arrived an hour early for breakfast so took a short walk to Friday Street. It looked very pretty with a mist hanging over the lake and anglers were already arriving. At Broadmoor, we had an excellent breakfast of stewed fruit, cereals, egg, sausage, bacon, toast and coffee. We then set off for the 11 am Mass at Dorking.

• 

  Christopher Jones August 1970 Magazine

Until the late 1950's the job of producing the ramble list fell on the Secretary. After this time a Committee member was appointed Ramble List Compiler.

Every so often the committee has become concerned that few members are willing to lead rambles thus putting an unfair burden on those who do, usually the committee members. Requests for more leaders appear in the Club List from time to time and things improve for a bit. In January 1942 and again in October 1946 the Committee gave up and left a Sunday blank expressing the hope that new leaders would use that day to plan a future ramble. Map reading evenings have been held and a series of articles on map reading appeared in the Club Magazine. Perhaps the early years of the Club and 1960's were the only times leaders did not have to do more than one ramble per List. Inevitably rambles are repeated to fill the gaps in the List. In the 90's the Club held formal training and map reading rambles in the hope of encouraging more leaders.

In most years about 22 members lead a ramble, some lead only once a year, some lead two or more rambles on each list.

INSTRUCTIONS ON HOW TO PLAN RAMBLES

Only people who have planned more than ten rambles need these instructions. They are essentially for beginners. Those people who have never planned rambles must do so immediately acting upon these hints.

Gentlemen, I exhort you, never plan a ramble in the dark unless you have a lady for protection. Ladies, I exhort you, never plan a ramble in the dark with a gentleman, it will do you no good, and they always find the way out of woods.

Ladies and gentlemen, always take a map with you as well, when using the daylight. In order to read maps properly, first learn to speak English, and always use a foreign accent when telling other people where to go to. They will then always follow your directions without suspicion, and you will never see them again. If you do, put your hat on upside down and speak Russian. This is not a very difficult language to learn if you already know Swahili, or else are very well red. I always find on going along footpaths that it is best to use both feet. This enables you to avoid bumping into trees, and if a farmer ever shouts at you across a field, speedily move away on all fours, using one limb at a time. He will then think you are a horse, but if he tries to ride you tell him you are some other farmer's horse, and he will know this is true since his own cannot speak. On coming to the pub, revert to normal posture (to avoid being given hay by kindly yokels), put grass in your hair and squint, and you will find that the beer will be cheaper. By using words of less than one syllable, you may get it for nothing, and always touch your forelock to the squire, and you may get a tanner. When trespassing always carry a mills bomb. Pull out the pin and throw it away immediately. Give the mills bomb to the owner of the field, and whilst he is examining it closely, make your way to the nearest air raid shelter or deep trench.

There are many books on Rambling, but few of them contain these hints.

• Summer 1955 Magazine

• PLANNING A RAMBLE?

The area of the Chilterns south of West Wycombe was selected as having possibilities to keep the ramblers happy, off the roads and over the green countryside.

The first step was to get an idea of the fares and train times. Not being a railway addict, I am not used to time-tables, so prefer to contact the railway enquiry offices. This I did by phone on Monday. At 4.50 the voice at Waterloo 5100 said "Enquiries here" and put me through into the middle of a conversation between a clerk and a fellow enquirer. I waited about five minutes, hoping the line might clear. It did - the chap at the other end put the receiver down. 4d wasted. 5 o'clock I asked the operator to help me. 5.15 I gave up, as despite many very polite "I'm trying to connect you"s, "I'll try another line"s, no one replied from Waterloo 5100. Maybe all the lines had crossed by then.

Still, one is not defeated by such aggravations. No! Next day, during my lunch hour, I visited Pickford's and obtained the details I required. The lady there is very helpful, even though I never buy tickets - just make constant and, to her, inane questions about train times and fares. Upon my return home I looked up some old ramble details and noticed that the fare to West Wycombe was 9/10, whereas Pickford's told me 5/7 return from Charing Cross.

Wednesday - To be on the safe side I thought I'd look at an up-to-date time-table that my sister has at the office for the use of our `travelling' staff. This confirmed the fare to be 9/10, but no trains from Charing Cross, only from Marylebone and, of course, at quite different times of departure! As I said before, I'm no good at reading time-tables.

Being afraid to visit Pickford's twice in one week, I had the bright idea of calling at Charing Cross station itself and there I met a charming fair haired gentleman; he was most helpful and confirmed 5/7 Cheap Day Return from Charing Cross. I suppose 9/10 was the normal fare, i.e. not `Cheap' and Charmg Cross is so much more convenient than Marylebone for us Southerners, so that clinched the matter.

The first step, having taken nearly a week to complete led to the second item - to fmd a willing, patient and kindly disposed companion for the walk-out.<