The magic of seven

21 April 2016

At the beginning of March CJ and I took a long walk in search of boundary stones.  There were, supposedly, two up for grabs but we came home disappointed, having found none. Later I discovered we’d been within spitting distance of one stone so, armed with more detailed instructions, I decided to try again. This time it would be a shorter walk. The plan was to drive to the Sports Centre and start from there. Given my shortage of walking miles this month, this was probably a mistake.

We parked up in the car park we used to use when CJ was little and had tennis lessons on a Saturday morning. Back then coach said he had something of John Mackinroe about him. Sadly, this was more about his attitude than his skill though and he lost interest after a season. It was a steep descent from the car park to Golf Course Road. As we strolled down the hill with blue sky above and wild flowers beside the path I couldn’t help thinking we’d have to climb back up at the end. If we hadn’t found at least one stone it was going to feel like a slog.

According to the scant information about the stones, there is one somewhere on Golf Course Road so we walked slowly, keeping our eyes peeled. We passed the tennis courts where we’d watched CJ play, then football pitches, the running track and the dry ski slope. There were people using the ski lifts and we saw one come whizzing down.
“We came here when I was at school but I looked at how steep it was and decided I didn’t fancy skiing,” I told CJ.
“I should think falling would hurt a lot more without snow,” he said.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking at the time. I spent the afternoon on the trampolines instead. Much less chance of breaking a leg.”

The road twisted and turned and soon we were climbing upwards again, still scanning the grass and trees for signs of a stone. We passed some low red brick buildings that looked as if they might once have been barns. A huge tractor with a line of mowers on the back was parked on the verge and the smell of freshly mown grass pervaded the air.
“I should think keeping the golf course in trim is a full time job, at least in the spring and summer,” I said.
“I wouldn’t mind driving round on that all day. It looks like fun,” CJ replied.

Despite our vigilance we’d seen no sign of a stone so far and now we were actually passing the golf courses. Little knots of men were gathered mid game and I wondered if we might be in danger of being hit by a flying ball.
“You don’t think the stone could actually be on the course somewhere do you?” CJ suggested.
“I wouldn’t have thought so. All the others have been near paths or roads. I can’t see them plonking it in the middle of the golf course, but you never know. Still, we can hardly just go wandering around on the courses. Apart from anything there are acres and acres of them and we wouldn’t have a clue where to look. It’d be like trying to find a needle in a haystack.”

A few minutes later we came to a large stone. For a millisecond I thought we’d found our boundary stone but it was way too big and the wrong shape. It stood in the middle of a bed of spring flowers and it had an inscription so we went for a closer look. It turned out this was actually the grave of a horse called Warrior. It seemed a little odd for a horse to be buried on the edge of the golf course but when we read further we realised this was not just any old horse. In fact this grey charger was a war hero. He served with the British Expeditionary Force, The Old Contemptibles, throughout World War I. Even after he was wounded by shrapnel he returned to duty and, once the war was over, he became a police horse in Southampton.

Warrior died in 1935, the same year the Golf Course was opened. By this time he’d become so popular with the people of the city he was given a civic burial and laid to rest where we discovered him. In a macabre twist, one of his hooves was preserved and used as an inkwell by the Chef Constable. I can’t help wondering if it’s still around somewhere gathering dust. Later I discovered 1.3 million horses took part in World War I battles so there are bound to be many similar stories of equine heroism But I doubt there are many monuments like this one.

Golf Course Road felt a great deal longer than it looked on the map. This may have had something to do with all the hills and bends. Eventually we found ourselves on familiar territory. We’d reached the place we’d stopped on our last visit. A man was riding around the golf course on a mower and CJ looked at him enviously. Sadly, there had been no sign of a boundary stone and I began to feel a little despondent. Despite the instructions I’d been given and assurances there really was a stone near the end of Roman Road I wondered if we were doomed to come back empty handed yet again.

Although we’d already scoured the area before we still kept a look out for the mythical stone but we reached Hadrian Way with no sign of it. The track here was so narrow I knew it was highly unlikely there’d be a stone but we both poked at the undergrowth anyway just in case. If we hadn’t I’m sure I’d have spent sleepless nights imagining us walking right past it without noticing.

At the end of the track white rhododendrons were blooming and we stopped to enjoy them. While I took photos CJ walked all around the little island they grew on just in case the boundary stone was hidden there. It wasn’t.
“Perhaps someone’s stolen it,” CJ said as we set off past the fancy houses.
“They’re a little big to just pick up and carry off,” I said, “besides, I’m pretty sure they’re set in concrete. It’s more likely it just isn’t here. The only list of them is suggested places to site them and it’s very vague. There’s no guarantee they were actually put in place. In fact they could have been put somewhere else altogether or still be in some council depot gathering dust.”
“You’d think someone would know where they all are though.”
“You would but, if they do, they seem to be keeping it to themselves.”

Eventually we came to Roman Road. We walked along the potholed track slowly, still stone hunting because you never really know if there is one hiding where you least expect it. As far as we could tell there wasn’t but at least we did our best. The further we walked the more worried I got that there’d be no stone at the end of the road. Obviously I kept this to myself because I didn’t want CJ to start getting all despondent and moody on me.

Finally we came to the service road behind the petrol station. This was where we originally thought the stone would be and, last time, we’d walked up and down several times looking for it. Across the road is an overgrown grassy island. The A27 goes around it, heading for North Bassesley in one direction and Chandlers Ford in the other. It seems an unlikely place for the stone to be sited and last time we had discounted it without even exploring. This was where I was told it would be though so, despite my misgivings, we crossed the road.

The grass was long, too long to see through, with a wide mown strip along the edge. Oddly a car was parked on this. It was empty and seemed abandoned.
“What a strange place to park,” CJ commented. “Do you think the driver is looking for the stone too?”
“I don’t know but, if they are, you’d think they’d park on the service road or the garage forecourt not here.”

The plan, such as it was, was to walk around the perimeter of the island and hope we found the stone. For some reason I had it in my head it would be on the far side near the road. We wandered along the mown strip in that general direction. My eyes were fixed on the place I expected to see the tell tale hump. CJ was walking a few paces behind me.
“Mum, look,” he said when we were about half way along.
Feeling a little irritated, I turned, expecting him to have found a cat or a squirrel. He’s always stopping for things like that and I was so intent on tracking down the stone I didn’t want to be distracted by something I could see any time I wanted. He was standing pointing so I followed his finger with my eyes. At first I couldn’t see anything but, when he waggled his finger a bit and I looked more closely, there was the stone almost hidden by a clump of brambles. For all my looking I’d walked right past it!

We took photos of it as it was and then we cleared the brambles away and took some more. Now we had found seven stones. Well, to be completely accurate, CJ had found the seventh stone. Left to my own devices I’d have gone home empty handed again.

Despite our earlier lack of success the hidden nature of the stone had me thinking we might still find the one on Golf Course Road. Perhaps it was as hidden as this one. So we retraced our steps looking even more closely at every bramble patch we passed. There was nothing on Roman Road or Hadrian Way. At Warrior’s grave we stopped again and checked it wasn’t hidden in the flower bed. It wasn’t.

When we came to the barn like buildings the mowing machine had moved so we had a thorough examination of the grassy bank just in case. It was fruitless. There was a large mound of brambles just before we reached the rather shabby run down play area where the trampolines I’d once bounced on are slowly rusting. I spent quite some time poking about in it while CJ watched people coming down the dry ski slope. I found some lovely red primroses but no stone.

We stopped at the empty paddling pool and checked there. CJ found a sign forbidding diving. It was amusing given the lack of water but it wasn’t a stone. A small mangy dog came out of the play area and growled at us so we started walking again.

At the bottom of the steep slope to the car park we eyed the grassy verges. We found a little stream but no stone. So that was that. We slogged our way up the slope having ticked seven stones off our list and found a horse’s gravestone we didn’t expect to see. There are five more stones to find, three of which I’m almost confident of seeing. As for the Golf Course Road stone, my money is on it being somewhere else altogether. So, if anyone spots a small oblong stone with a rounded top, the date 1988, a H and an S entwined and something that looks suspiciously like a hand grenade carved on it, please tell me where it is.

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