1980: Bogles In Beckindale...

It all began in the autumn of 1980. Seth Armstrong (Stan Richards) was doing a spot of taxi driving for Jim Blake, and one of his fares this particular night was Amos Brearly (Ronald Magill), co-proprietor of The Woolpack Inn, Beckindale. The car engine had been behaving erratically throughout the journey but, finally, on a lonely road by Bogle Bog, it conked out.

Seth suggested that they should walk back to Beckindale...

... but Amos was having none of it. They couldn't walk back it was dark. The Hotten Courier had hired the cab to get Amos home after a function, the taxi proprietor was legally bound to do just that, Amos was ex-artillery - he knew his rights, Seth must go back to the phone box they'd passed earlier and phone the taxi firm from there and demand another vehicle be sent out to them. And whilst he was at it he must also phone Mr Wilks (Arthur Pentelow) - it was late and he'd be wondering where Amos had got to.

Seth asked him if he was afraid of Bogles (more about them later) but Amos hotly refuted the idea.

Seth went. Amos clicked on the car radio. Beneath all his bluster he was actually quite afraid, being out there alone at that time. It was around midnight. The newsreader provided little comfort - just a tale about a man trapped on a ledge of rock in the Lake District by a freak storm. Amos changed channels, to find a dreadful winky-wonky instrumental version of Smile Though Your Heart Is Breaking...

He was listening to an equally winky-wonky version of Amazing Grace when he saw it. A light, moving around and going on and off in the sky over Bogle Bog...

Amos stepped out of the taxi. Instinctively, he thought Seth was to blame, playing one of his daft tricks. But when Seth returned, coming from the opposite direction, Amos knew he was wrong. Seth didn't see the light and doubted Amos' word. The Woolpack landlord was a barmpot anyway. How could there be a light out there? That was Bogle Bog...

What is a "Bogle"? Well, according to my trusty old dictionary, it's a spectre or goblin, a scarecrow or bugbear.

The word is claimed to be of Scottish origin - although Emmerdale Farm had a strong Yorkshire flavour in the 1980s, and I fail to see how a word that originated from Scotland would be deeply embedded in Beckindale folklore. I wonder if the word is in reality simply Northern British - perhaps derived from the Vikings.

Much is made of various colloquialisms being strictly Scots/Welsh/English - but the simple fact is that this is a tiny island and national borders (and indeed county) are entirely artificial. It's next to impossible to be entirely sure - and things often overlap. The Welsh fancy that the quaint phrase "round by here" is Welsh is another uncertain claim - I've also heard it just across the border in England.

Bogles, it seems, can manifest themselves as lights in the sky. Boggy areas are often renowned for this phenomenon - and names for it differ in various parts of the UK. "Will O' The Wisp" is another. Variants on the "Bogle" name in Beckindale included "Boggarts" and "Bog-A-Boos".

The logical scientific explanation is that the lights are created by marsh gases.

Amos, of course, was neither logical nor scientific, and thought he had seen an alien space craft. UFOs were very big in 1980 - the BBC radio serial Waggoners' Walk had contained a UFO story line in its closing months, Close Encounters was just three years before, The Empire Strikes Back was debuting at cinemas, and ET was a couple of years ahead. The pop group Hot Chocolate scored a major hit in 1980 with their excellent UFO ditty No Doubt About It.

Amos took to studying the skies over The Woolpack...

... and was quite alarmed when a crash helmeted young man called at the pub for a drink, stating that he came from a long, long way away. Was he an alien? The man was very interested in Bogle Bog and was camped out near there.

As it turned out, the young man was called Ned and he was at Bogle Bog with a metal detector, searching for Roman artifacts. He had some success, and told Amos about a legend he had read whilst doing his research: Romans fleeing from a villa in the locality during the Boadicea era, had seen a strange light over what was now Bogle Bog - and attributed it to an evil Bogle!

So it wasn't an alien space ship Amos had seen, it was a Bogle. Well, at least that's what our Mr Brearly thought!

He phoned Mr Tyler, editor of The Hotten Courier, and told him he was going to research the subject of Bogles and write an article.

This he did, although he had moments of uncertainty. What if Bogles read The Courier and were upset by what he wrote? Mr Wilks was amused. That was assuming that Bogles could read, let alone that they read The Courier, he told Amos.

Amos was going well over the top in 1980. The arrival of Seth as a Woolpack regular and Walter (Al Dixon) seemed to be making him pottier than ever. He told Mr Wilks that The Courier was the only local paper they could read - there was only one!!

I agree with Amos - it's likely that any self respecting Bogle would be keen to keep abreast of local news!

The article was published. Towards the end of 1980, Amos had cause to upbraid Mr Wilks about the inconsiderate nature of his relatives. Alice Wilks (Hazel Bainbridge), Mr Wilks' cousin, had announced she would like to visit him with very little notice, and Mr Wilks had agreed.

But if Mr Wilks' relatives were inconsiderate, Amos' were even more so: his Auntie Emily (Ann Way) turned up out of the blue in her old fashioned car, almost colliding with the Emmerdale land rover before she reached Beckindale.

Sam Pearson (Toke Townley) commented that Amos Brearly had been in Beckindale for around twenty years. In all that time, Sam hadn't even known that Amos HAD an auntie! Matt Skilbeck recalled that Amos had been expecting a visit from an aunt some years before - but she hadn't actually turned up.

Auntie Emily was a large eyed, somewhat bird-like woman in appearance, who bossed Amos around, sat in the bar with her knitting, and was decidedly different to your average relative. It was easy to tell she was a Brearly. Mr Wilks actually wondered if she might be a Bogle!

Mr Wilks' cousin, Alice, was relaxed and charming. Very much a Wilks. She and Auntie Emily managed to fall out and gently tiffed for a while, but a party at Emmerdale Farm, thrown by Annie Sugden in honour of the visitors, lessened the tensions.

Then came the day when Auntie Emily got herself into a state of "high dungeon" as Amos called it: she saw the article Amos had written about Bogles in The Courier and told him he should never have done it. Such things as "Bog-A-Boos" should be left strictly to themselves.

She told Mr Wilks that she hoped she would meet him again, although she would not be returning to The Woolpack, and left in a great flurry, telling Amos he should have The Woolpack exorcised.

Amos' loss of interest in Bogles was immediate.

And, as far as I know, the lights in the sky were never seen again. Auntie Emily returned in 1983 however.

1980 Month - Feedback And Queries

First, some queries:

Pete asks: "Is it true that Seth Armstrong was not a regular at The Woolpack in early 1980?"

Of course, Pete. He was a Malt Shovel man. In early-to-mid 1980, Seth was a semi-regular in the storylines - there are a couple of quite long runs of episodes where he didn't appear at all. By about midway through the year he was a Woolpack regular - winding Amos up at every opportunity! In December, Tom Merrick called Seth a "snob" for deserting The Malt Shovel.

Lorraine asks: "How long did Nellie Ratcliffe appear for?"

I believe that Nellie was originally a temporary character, established in 1978 for a storyline about NY Estates seeking to evict her from her cottage. In 1980, she appeared occasionally - featuring quite heavily in storylines about the horticultural show, Sam Pearson's birthday, the return of the Merricks to the village and the Allotment Association's bonfire night celebration. She also featured in 1981. Amos mentioned her in 1986 and it seems she was still a village resident, but I don't think she appeared on-screen at that point.

Nick asks: "I remember the Merricks' caravan as being quite convincing, was the interior real or a studio set?"

It was convincing, but I believe it was a studio set.

Mrs Shook asks: "Did we actually see The Malt Shovel in 1980?"

No, it wasn't featured - and neither was Ernie Shuttleworth, who underwent a change of actor in the early 1980s.

Greg says: "Tom Merrick, nicking Christmas trees - I read that was 1981."

No, Greg, it was just before Christmas 1980.

Thanks to all those who have written with compliments and suggestions about 1980 Month. I have been asked if a "1981 Month" is a possibility. It certainly is, but will take some time to prepare and will not appear until October at the earliest if I choose to go ahead with the idea.

1980: September: Al Dixon Becomes Walter Of The Woolpack...

Walter's very first screen close up, October 1980.

Before The Beckindale Bugle, confusion reigned over the character of Walter, the silent Woolpack bar propper. When did he first appear? Did he ever speak? Why was he so quiet? What was his surname?

Well, The Beckindale Bugle couldn't, and can't, solve the last two mysteries, but we did manage to solve the others.

Regular readers of this blog will know that there were two Walters, one played by Geoffrey Hooper on-screen from circa 1974-1980, and the other played by Al Dixon from September 1980 to December 1985.

Geoffrey Hooper's Walter was often heard to speak - from episodes available to me and my readers, I can state that in 1976, he informed the Woolpack that there had been a train crash at the junction; I'm reliably informed he told Annie Sugden at a village dance that he would rather be having a drink with Amos. In an episode from early 1980 he told Amos that he wouldn't have his usual pint of beer, he'd have a half!

Al Dixon's 1980s Walter said much less - I heard him mumble "Thank you" when Mr Wilks handed him his change in a scene from November 1980, and he laughed out loud when Amos planned to fix the plumbing at The Woolpack - but then who wouldn't have?! Anyway, if you want to know more about Walter and Al Dixon, simply click on the labels below.

Actually there was a third Walter in Emmerdale Farm, played by Meadows White in a few early episodes, but as that Walter wasn't particularly quiet, nor a Woolpack bar-propper, I assume he was unrelated to the subject of this article! According to Meadow White's IMDB entry, he died on 20 November 1973. Read it here.

Today we're thrilled to be able to show you, in screen captures, how Al Dixon's Walter was introduced into the story. The Woolpack was absolutely Walter-less for much of 1980. A non-silent character called Wilfred was sometimes seen at the bar, but then the Emmerdale Farm production team decided that a new Walter was required. And a new, rather different, rather quirkier Walter at that!

Al Dixon was auditioned and later revealed: "They asked me to take my teeth out and that's how I got the part."

His on-screen introduction - episode 597, broadcast in September 1980 - went like this...

Amos was ranting away to Mr Wilks - in high dudgeon about "summat and nowt" - one morning before Opening Time. As he stalked out of the bar, there was a knock at the door. Amos told Mr Wilks it was Walter knocking, it was time to open up, they had the good name of the house to consider, and so on.

Amos went into the living quarters, leaving easy-going Mr Wilks to open the pub. He made his way to the door and the episode switched scenes to elsewhere in Beckindale so that we didn't get to see Walter at that point.

Screen capture from Walter's very first scene, September 1980.

Later in the episode, Amos was putting Seth Armstrong to rights in no uncertain terms and Walter made his very first appearance, sitting quietly in the shadows. Walter would soon become associated with the corner of the bar nearest the till, but made his debut at the opposite end by the hot food cabinet. In his early episodes, he switched bar ends several times.

At first, Walter was quite low key, but he quickly became more prominent. It was in October 1980 that he got his first screen close up.

Walter's bizarre silence and highly expressive face added something very distinctive and slightly surreal to the atmosphere at The Woolpack. He contributed to Amos' growing reputation as a barmpot as the Woolpack landlord stood wittering away to him about all his latest fads. Walter never answered, but this didn't bother Amos who simply wanted to be heard and not ridiculed. Very occasionally, early on, Walter was heard to laugh at certain particulars of Amos' daft doings, but in the main Amos' chunterings were greeted by an attentive (or sometimes blank) expression and much head nodding.

Bliss for Amos - somebody who would listen to his strange flights of fancy.

Although Walter was silent, his facial expressions spoke volumes. Neither he nor Amos were at all impressed when the uncouth John Tuplin, NY Estates worker, rapped on the bar with his glass in an attempt to get service in October 1980.

Mr Wilks is bemused, bothered and bewildered by Amos' behaviour, Seth is amused, Walter is blank.

By 1983, viewers were campaigning for Walter to speak. But Al Dixon said in 1984: "I hope Walter never speaks. If he did, I think I'd be finished because the character wouldn't be a novelty any more!"

Al Dixon suffered a stroke in late 1985, and Walter last appeared on screen in December of that year, in the village's Christmas play Toad Of Toad Hall. The scenes had been recorded before Mr Dixon was taken ill.

In early 1986, Walter was reported to have gone to visit his sister in Worthing. The production team hoped that Mr Dixon would be well enough to return to the role soon. But, sadly, this was not to be and he died a few months later.

Walter was a tremendous favourite of mine - he brought a great deal of fun to the show from 1980 to 1985, and was a lovely, quirky and gentle character.

Fondly remembered.

1980: A Tale Of Three Marrows...

It all began in the spring of 1980, when Seth Armstrong phoned The Woolpack with a message for Amos. As it happened, Amos was down in the cellar at the time, so Mr Wilks took the message, which was that Seth had news for Amos and would be calling in later that day.

Amos was not happy. He hated phone calls of this nature, and he was ill at ease wondering what Seth wanted.

Amos was suspicious of Seth at the best of times: "Any man who spends as much time as he does in't Malt Shovel when he could drink good beer in't Woolpack... He needs watching."

The Malt Shovel was Seth's "local" at the time - although as 1980 wore on, he switched to The Woolpack, which didn't please Amos either.

Seth had invited Sam Pearson along to hear the news he had for Amos.

"What were you phoning me about this morning, Seth Armstrong?" asked Amos. "Mr Wilks said it were important. You can have folks worrying leaving that sort of message."

"It's about your allotment," said Seth. "It's come through sooner than expected." Amos had applied for an allotment some months before. "There's been one disused for awhile up near't Ramseys'..."

"Well, what's that got to do with me?"

"It's yours now. I know how disappointed you were when you didn't get one a few months back. So, me as Chairman and't allotments committee have moved heaven and earth to get you this one."

Amos was most unhappy. He confided in Mr Wilks: truth to tell, he'd gone off the idea of an allotment. But he didn't want to turn it down when so much trouble had been taken to secure him one.

"Anyway, Seth and Sam were waiting for me to back down - I could see it in their eyes."

And the Brearlys had their pride.

Amos made his way to the allotments and consulted a rough map Seth had drawn... where was his plot?

Then he saw it: "Oh, 'eck!!"

Amos had been allocated a shambles of an allotment. And he knew Seth Armstrong had done it on purpose.

"You'll sort that out in less than five minutes, Amos," said Seth later that day in The Woolpack. "Anyway, digging runs in't family, don't it?"

"Eh?" Amos was puzzled.

"Undertaking!"

"I hardly thinks that's the sort of comparison to go making in polite company," bristled Amos. "Anyway, techniques are quite different."

"How?" asked Seth.

"I've no intention of discussing that sort of thing over my bar!"

"Well, Amos, if you can't cope..." said Sam, impishly.

"Of course I can cope! Us Brearlys have always been noted for keeping a good garden - we've always had brown fingers!"

- So, fleet of foot and light of head, Amos made his way down to the allotments again to start work on transforming his patch the very next day.

Off with his duffle coat, out with his fork, dig in, and...

... immediate humiliation as the fork handle snapped in two. Of course, there were a couple of village worthies nearby to spread the news of Amos' glorious debut at the allotments all around Beckindale.

However, the Brearlys were not to be put off by minor setbacks, and when Sam and Seth arrived to check on Amos' progress (this should be a laugh, they thought!) they were taken aback to find that Amos...

... was bringing order to what had previously been chaos. Neighbouring allotment holders were agog.

Of course, the physical toil took its toll on Amos and one afternoon Seth and Sam called on him and found him in a very undignified state...

... sleeping like a true allotment holder.

Amos set to to study horticulture and came across a "deep bed planting method" he reckoned was well worth a try.

It involved not walking on the soil - hence the plank.

Several villagers got told off for treading on his precious patch of ground: "I'll not have my horticultural facilities sabotaged!" Seth and Sam were, despite themselves, interested in Amos' efforts and Sam even suggested that they might have to look to their laurels.

Amos even bought a propagator. He really was very devoted to his hobby.

-

Until a new fad came along.

As 1980 progressed, Amos held a charity auction and investigated bogles (what?!) in the locality. The allotment fell by the wayside and soon Seth was complaining about the weeds which were beginning to sprout there.

-

Mr Wilks made fun of Amos' neglect of the allotment and, stung, Amos set out to make amends. Once on his patch of God's good earth, he lifted a piece of sacking and found...

... a magnificent marrow - which he had planted but which had since grown with no help from him!

So, horticulture was well and truly back on the agenda. Seth and Sam were in heavy competition with marrows for Beckindale's annual horticultural show, but Amos reckoned he had the winner.

Seth was well pleased with his little beauty, and went to feed it some of his top secret preparation a few days later...

... unaware that he was being spied on.

But then...

... he did become aware: "What do you want, Amos Brearly?!"

Of course, Amos was all innocence.

Sam was later bothered by Seth in his shed. The competition was intense, and Seth was out to discover the strength of the opposition. Having seen Seth off with a flea in his ear, Sam settled down to play his recorder. Then a terrible thought struck him!

Outside, it was plain that Seth had no intention of leaving Emmerdale Farm just yet. Stealthily, he set off in the opposite direction...

Until Sam appeared and pointed out that the direction Seth was taking led to his garden...

... and that he should be walking in the opposite direction - off the farm.

Well, of course, Seth was all injured innocence.

The day of the show dawned, and Amos applied the final beauty treatment to his pride and joy:

-

"Are you sure it's according to the rules for you to do that?" asked Mr Wilks.

-

"There's nowt in this but a drop of oil and vinegar, Mr Wilks, and nowt illegal in giving it a sheen."

-

All was hustle and bustle in Beckindale as preparations for the show began...

Seth arrived with his marrow in a little cart behind his bike...

Amos arrived, as did Sam. Their greetings were friendly on the surface, but highly guarded:

-

"Morning, Sam."

"Morning, Amos."

"Nice day for't show."

"Aye."

"Aye. Very nice."

-

Amos could see that Sam was looking at him with thinly veiled hostility.

-

"I'll see you inside."

"Aye. I daresay."

"Aye," said Amos and scuttled off towards the marquee.

On the way he met Seth:

"Morning, Seth."

"Morning, Amos."

"Nice day for't show."

"Aye - nice day."

"Aye, very nice."

-

You could have cut the atmosphere between the two men with a knife.

Marrows all laid out in the marquee, it was time for Amos to open The Woolpack. Seth and Sam joined him there for a drink. Tension was running high. The Judgement Hour loomed.

Richard Anstey, NY Estates boss, who had been at the show earlier, came in.

"Judging's not done yet?!" cried Amos.

"Oh, aye - they're letting the crowds in. They decided to start early because of the bowls match." For Beckindale was taking on Robblesfield that afternoon.

"Who won?" Seth was highly agitated. He had to know who had won the best marrow section.

"I didn't see that. I can tell you who won..."

But Seth, Sam and Amos were off: "MR WILKS - TAKE CHARGE!!" squawked Amos, as he shot out of the door.

Mr Wilks was highly amused: "I don't know about the three minute mile," he told Richard, "but I reckon there's gonna be summat close to it there!"

The three men flew from the pub...

... and across the village...

... to find a very large marrow had joined theirs in the marquee - and what's more, had been awarded First Prize!

-

The three men stumbled to a halt:

-

"Whose is that?" cried Seth.

-

"Mine!" cried a jaunty female voice. "I thought I had a chance! And they're so easy to grow, en't they?"

-

And there was Nellie Ratcliffe, winner of the Best Marrow Prize in the Beckindale Horticultural Show, 1980.

-

Amos, Seth and Sam were numb with horror. Sam was even more distraught when the realisation hit him that his marrow had been awarded joint second prize along with Seth's and Amos'. Imagine being lumped in with those two!!

-

Amos carried his disgruntlement back to The Woolpack where the locals were reeling: Robblesfield had won the Butterworth Ball. It was a grim day for Beckindale.

-

Mr Wilks reminded Amos that he had other fish to fry with The Hotten Courier, which cheered him up a bit. He even bought a round of drinks for his customers.

Meanwhile, through the back lanes of Beckindale, wended a weary figure on a bike. A broken man. A man who had been subjected to complete and utter humiliation.

"Nellie Ratcliffe! Anybody but Nellie Ratcliffe!!" he was muttering.