St. Mary's Church, Steeple Bumpstead

Image: © Linda Taken: Unknown

I am reminded by Ian Robinson of a poem that very aptly fits this photo: Once Steeple Bumpstead had a Steeple Beloved by all the village people, It was so fine and tall and stately No wonder they admired it greatly. But long ago an angry wizard Blew Steeple Bumpstead folk a blizzard, And suddenly the dust went dancing And hayricks in the field went prancing. The wind set windmills sails a-whirling, And pots and pans and plates a-twirling; It struck the folk and made them scatter. It beat the village eggs to batter; It caught the farmer's wife so busy And round she went till she was dizzy. It blew the thrifty, mean and lazy Till one and all were nearly crazy, And one and all, both dull and clever, Cried 'howls a-mercy, well I never', And poked their puzzled anxious faces From queer and unexpected places. But in a wink the storm departed Far quicker that it even started, And everyone came out and wondered And stood awhile and looked and pondered; Then suddenly cried all the people 'Oh, Steeple Bumpstead, where's your steeple?' The Steeple once so tall and splendid A heap of rubbish had descended; Its weather-cock so bright of feather Had flown the country altogether And left the place no means of knowing Whatever way the wind was blowing. And tales were told and heads were shaken To see a village so forsaken And all because an angry wizard, Blew Steeple Bumpstead folk a blizzard. By Elizabeth Fleming

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