History
The village of Mamble is steeped in history, extending back some 2,000 years to the earliest village settlements nearby. Listed in the Domesday Book as Mamele, the Manor was owned by Sawold the Saxon and worth the sum of 30 shillings! - in 1086 it was given to Ralph de Mortemer and then valued at £2.
The De Mortemers, became inextricably linked through marriage and property with the Blounts of Soddington Hall - an important Catholic family who left their mark in Mamble with the unusual addition of a Roman Catholic chapel to the 12th century village church. In addition to its original wooden steeple, the church contains a fine example of medieval stained glass - the only surviving window saved from destruction by the Roundheads during the Civil War. Local villagers, fearing for the Church's treasures, removed the windows and hid them in the muck heap at Hall Farm, which still stands next to the church. When the Monarchy was restored only one off the hidden windows remained intact to be replaced above the altar.
This beautiful XVlllth Century Coaching Inn, has seen much over the years including a reported fight to the death on the staircase, giving rise to dark tales of recurring bloodstains on the stairs, and ghostly sightings.
One such ghost, a friendly presence we would add, visits us now in the upper floors ...
For the rest, Mamble is a sleepy backwater as chronicled by the well known poet John Drinkwater.
To John Drinkwater
John, I have been to Mamble
In Sun and Slipper days
As those who lived in Mamble
Pursued their country ways
Old Mistress Broome's one daughter
Was famed for home-made wine
So songs there were, and laughter
And sorrows too - yet time
Moved gently then in Mamble
Where Limping Elsie's store
Sold jam and stamps in Mamble
And pop and sweets, and more
The Sisters Price oft baking
Straw hats atop their heads
Churchgoers celebrating
By Parson Davy led.
There's none to find in Mamble
Who's courted power and fame
And still there's naught in Mamble
Belies its ancient name
So, John, you need not fear
For the waking of your dream
As Mamble lies at peace here
Asleep above the Teme
Alan Dawson
1926-1999
Mamble
I never went to Mamble
That lies above the Teme
So I wonder who's in Mamble
And whether people seem
Who breed and brew along there
As lazy as the name
And whether any songs there
Sets alehouse wits aflame
The finger post says Mamble
And that is all I know
Of the narrow road to Mamble
And should I turn and go
To that place of lazy token
That lies above the Teme
There might be a Mamble broken
That was lissome in a dream
So leave the road to Mamble
And take another road
To as good a place as Mamble
Be it lazy as a toad
Who travels Worcester County
Takes any place that comes
When April tosses bounty
To the cherries and the plums
John Drinkwater
1882-1937
