MILORD THE MILKMAN

Rotorua Morning Post, Issue 5309, 23 January 1947, Page 2

MILORD THE MILKMAN

» DORSETSHIRE BARON RISES AT 6-15 FOR HIS BOUNDS. The world's most aristocratic milkiman — a baron, n» less — delivers . milk d'aily to the villagers of Cerne Abbas in Dorset, and picks up a few pennies- on thei side by peddling vegetables and flowers from his 19 greenhouses. He likes the job and is going to hang on to it. .Frequently he is assisted by his wife, iLady Constance Pamela Digby, who can juggle a milk bottle as expertly as she used to balanee a teacup. lEivery morning for seven months a liveried man-servant has knocked at 6.15 at the hedroom door of Eidward Kenelm Digby, the 11th Baron Digby, in Cerne Abhey, one of the oldest and most distinguished manor houses in England. To a sleepy voice from within the servant responds, "Your coffee, my Lord."

The baron, who was inspector oi infantry-training esta'blishments in the last war and a colonel of the Coldstream G'liards in it's predecess'or, rises brisklj, gulps his coffee, talces his tub, pulls on dove grey trousers and a brown tweed jacket, plops a checked cap on his head, and is ready to begin his rounds. His rontiiie is rigid. He emerges from the house into the rose garden, where, during the season, he picks a newly opened bud antd1 isticlcs it in his lapel. He stops for a moment at the kennels to inspect his prize wolfhounds, and pauses again at the stables to see how his hnnters are enjoying their breakfast. He takes a quick stroll through the greenhouses and the orchards. By the time he reaches the dairyhouse a jaunty blue electric van has been loaded with Guernsey milk from his 80 pedigree cows and produce from his 200-acre estate. "Ready, Ed," he calls to his aged helper, Edwin White, and when everything is set he hops in and drives off toward the home of his lirst customer. Likes His Job. Since he is Deputy Lieutenant of the County, Justice of Peace, and County Alderman, the baron has plenty to do, but this is the job he likes the best. His van rolls gaily over the cobbled streets and. between k the" ancient thafched cottages where 5 his ancestors used to ride in coats of mail.

iReminders of the past are at every hand. On. one side of the village is the A'bbey f armhouse, built with materials taken from the Benedictine Abbey, which was foiuinded in 987. Cut into the stone hillside on the opposite quarter is the massive figure of the Cerne giant, believed to represent one of the deities of a prehistoric race. Even the villagers seem to be a part of the changeless scene. At first they were abashed when. the baron stopped at their homes, but now they cbme to their doors to call out a cheery "Goodl morning, my Lord." , Although Baron -Digby has nevei been afraid of work, he became a milkman more or less by accident. Wh*i he bought his new electric van early in the year he discovered that only a few of 'his 49 employees could be spared from their jobs, and none oi these was ahle to drive. ; "•Guess Pll have to drive it myself,' the baron said, and he did. When Ed White became ill, the manpowier shorta^e again presented a problem. That one was solved' by Lady Digby, who had recently retired aftei seven years' servici in the A.'T.S (the Women's Army of Britain) as a Senior Commandant. "If you can deliver milk, I can too," she ohserved.

Further Shock for Customers. The housewives of Cerne Abbas. accustomed by now to having his lord ship drive up to their doors, receivec a new shock when smiling Lad;Digby climbed from the van, loaded a tray with milk. 'bottles, and brougbt them to the house: Her customei;were frequently so flustered that they had diffieulty in counting out the re gulation fivepence per pint. "I simply love it," said her ladyship, who is the daughter of the second Lord Aberdare. "It is a wonderful way to get acquainted with your neighbours, and, besides, in times like thest it's a really necessary work." Ed White came back to work, bu. his periods of ill-healtfr increased During these Lady Digby cheerfullj slubstituted for him. Baron Digby go't su^icious one daj when he saw White, supposedly ai home ill, walking jauntily along the road. "I thought you were at home in bed sick," the Baron accused. His helper, abashed, admitted that he never felt finer. It was all, he explained, Lady Digby's- doing. Whenever she had felt the milk maid uige come upon her she had persuaded Ed to drop out of 'the picture for a while. Baron Dighy, a man not without humour. arranged it so that his lady could be a part of the milk venture without putting Ed in bed — an arrangement that satisfied all. The Digbys, who trace their Iineage back to the tirne of E'dward the Confessor, have never been particulaily " convent-ional. One of them, in fact, got so far out of line that he lost his head. He was Sir Everard Digby, who had part in the famous Guy Fawkes Gunpowder Plot in 1606, Sir Everard did not assist in laying the barrels of gunpowder under'the Houses of Parliament/ but he was entrusted with the task, of starting an uprising in the Midlands' when the explosion occurred. After the plot failed he was arrested, tried in Westminster Hall, and dragged on a hurdle to St. Paul's Churchyard, where he was hangedj drawn and quartered. Cerne Abbas babies are growing very plump on the Digby pedigreed milk, and Baron Digby- is sorry that v none' of it is goiftg to his grandson, Winston Churchill II, whose other Igrandf ather is the former I^ime Minister ,of England, and w&id-se parents are Randolph and • Pamela Digby Churchill.