By Volunteer Alan Crooks
One of the earliest Christmas presents I recall receiving from Santa Claus (aka my parents) as a pre-teen was Enid Blyton’s book, ‘Five Go To Billycock Hill’, published in 1957. This concerns an RAF pilot who has disappeared with top-secret equipment.
One vivid memory I’ve retained from this book is when ‘The Five’ spotted a man wielding a butterfly net…
‘It’s Mr Gringle’ said Toby. ‘One of the men from the butterfly farm. He’s often up here with his net because it’s a wonderful place for butterflies,”
A man came round the gorse-bush – a rather peculiar figure, untidy, with glasses slipping down his nose, and his hair much too long. He carried a big butterfly net and stopped when he saw the five children,
I was reminded of this some decades later when I sought help to identify some beautiful silver and grey bees which had suddenly began emerging from my lawn. Mr Stuart Roberts from the ‘Bees, Wasps and Ant Recording Society’, who lives in Salisbury, came around. I recall being very self-conscious of what the neighbours might be thinking of this sinister-looking character swishing a butterfly net around in my garden at dusk. The bees turned out to be the ashy mining bee, Andrena cineraria. Mr Roberts explained that these bees don’t sting and that if you capture one loosely in your cupped hands and blow on it, it emits a lovely flowery scent.
I was reminded once again of this scenario in reading Dr David Tyrrell’s book, ‘Cold Wars’ (2002), in preparation for taking part in an oral history project on behalf of the Museum on the former Common Cold Research Unit (CCRU) which used to be at Harvard Hospital, Harnham. Dr Tyrrell ran the research programme there from 1957 and was the Director of the WHO Reference Centre for Virus Infections at the CCRU from 1960 until its closure in 1990.
In ‘Cold Wars’ Tyrrell describes the pioneering work of Professor Sir Christopher Andrewes, one of the founders of the CCRU in 1946:
‘He had been a keen naturalist since early boyhood, an interest which had developed, as so often happens, during illness. Confined to his home for a period he had passed the time by studying the territorial habits of birds in his garden – clear evidence of his innate instinct for research. Eventually, he focussed his attention on … two-winged flies. And of course, his frequent visits to Harnham Hill provided him with an ideal opportunity to pursue these studies. Each morning, during his stay, there was the familiar sight of this figure in a well-worn sports jacket and carrying a net striding out into the countryside…’.
One can’t help wondering whether Enid Blyton was aware of Dr Andrewes’ seemingly eccentric forays, and based the image of Mr Gringle on him.
Many thanks, Alan, for this. We look forward to finding out more, perhaps, about the CCRU.
I, too, was an Enid Blyton fan and care not at all that she has become rather passe.