The Secretary writes:
Ramblum Mortuum...
One cannot help but notice that the topic of death has
arisen in recent postings, and indeed was the subject of some debate over
cigars & brandy the other eve.
Observing that there were many uncertainties over the appropriate
etiquette in dealing with dead Ramblers, or those who become so during Rambles,
methought Members may benefit from some archival investigation.
The Society's basic tenet in these matters is that death
makes no difference to status of Membership.
This is self evidenced by the healthy number of dead Members who
regularly contribute to Society matters, such as Colonel Hampton, R J
Oooooostead and others.
However, the Society does frown upon applications submitted after death. One such is that of Peregrine “Trip-hammer” Fontenheim, who was nomination recusaverit in spite of his
mother’s argument that the funeral service & burial in the family mausoleum
should be counted as his first Ramble.
Cessation of mortality during Rambles is not uncommon, and
raises numerous challenges for which no one policy has proven universally
applicable. As a general consideration
however, a Rambler mortuus occupies
no more space than a Rambler vivus,
so no major alteration of plans should result.
Only the most churlish would expect their fellows to Ramblus Interruptus.
Lord Tiggy Periwinkle’s Party continued their four-day
excursion into the Caledonian Highlands in spite of the tragic First Cake-stop
near Bannockburn. Indeed they returned
the good Lord to his ancestral home four days later, exactly as consue tudine, in time for High
Tea. In fact, so calmly was the matter
handled that it wasn’t until that evening’s poor showing at billiards –
where-in His Lordship normally excelled – that his Great Aunt, Lady Glockshot,
observed the inevitable change in his demeanour.
This particular case may well have benefited from the
remoteness of the Ramble itself, however, as the Caledonian peasantry are
hardened to the sights of Nature in the
raw, so to speak. More southerly
centres of population may prove more complex scenarios, requiring discretion to
be uppermost.
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| Tiggy Periwinkle's skull in the Society archive |
Tweeder Munro’s
suggestion of placing the cadaver upright in the passenger seat is certainly
better advised than Mrs Cynthia Peynton-Blanc’s insistence on the placing of
her demised spouse on the roof-rack of their shooting brake.
Other party members recall she was concerned
to acquire more room for the Afghan hounds, and that indeed all progressed
smoothly until rain & wind so disturbed the covering picnic blanket that
they found themselves somewhat alarmingly confronted by numerous Constabulary
(“Like a cohort of over educated Storm Troopers!” as Mrs P-B still relates the
story) shortly after Staines.
However, even the simplest solutions can be derailed, if
only by well-meaning honesty. One Rambler party found themselves in delicate waters while
on a pleasant Cotswolds jaunt tracing the remnants of whipping posts, stocks,
gibbets and other instruments of civil order in picturesque hamlets.
An unfortunate case of “the Battenburg Gargle” had struck
down T C Leathersmocq (Junior or Senior – I confess my uncertainty) at first
elevenses. An un-anticipated
consequence of this development was that in each successive village, the back
seat remained permanently occupied by one tweed-clad gent, while the
explorations & perusals of worn down stumps & street corner signs
proceeded.
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| A Rambler Mortuus occupies no more space than a Rambler Vivus |
The good Cotswold folks’ ancestors must have clearly
benefited from the aforementioned floggings and gruesome humiliations, and were
now at such an advanced stage of social sophistication that, noticing this
repeated pattern, they kindly rose to provide a remedy for what they perceived
as an impediment to the full enjoyment of their parishes.
Thus by the mid-afternoon stop for a long lost ducking
stool, a small party awaited the Ramblers’ Lagonda by a village pond, consisting of a vicar, a churchwarden, a
Postmistress and two school governors, with a bath chair at the ready for the
perceived invalid. Four sturdy
immigrant workers stood by, ready to assist with practicalities! Overwhelmed with such kindness, and yet at a
loss as how to reject such hospitality, our Members were in an awkward
pickle. Fortunately her years behind
the counter had made the Postmistress an astute judge of human dealings, and
she clarified all matters to such an extent that the good vicar offered a
service of interment there & then!
Thus each situation must be approached afresh and when in
doubt, seek the solution which causes the least disruption to the Ramble. Clearly on occasion the boot may be more
efficacious than the passenger seat.
Member Many Coats’ suggestion that expiring mid-Ramble should be
entirely prohibited is understandable, and has been adopted in the past, but
can cause awkward conflicts of interest: hence the number of deceased Ramblers
still on the books, as it were. The proposal of a statute requiring two
weeks’ written notice of impending mort to the Committee, while commendable, carries certain logistical
problems relating to Sunday post and availability of clerical staff.
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| Take heed... |
Some debate arose over the Guzzle-Rights to the deceased’s picnic hamper, as to what
constituted precedence amongst the remaining party for first dibs. Again, no one
particular policy will suffice; but harken to St Benedict's warning: Above
all things, gluttony must be avoided. Take
heed lest your hearts be overcharged with surfeiting.
Lemon Drizzle must be handled
carefully, as it seems it can be the cause of the most vociferous
exchanges. Obviously occasions shall arise where
specialist tastes should be given preference, for example, are we not all aware
of Many Coat’s international reputation as connoisseur
of the French Fancy?
Hopefully the above will shed some light on matters mortuus,
and that regardless of where we find ourselves on the ever
turning Wheel of Dame Fortune, all Members shall strive to preserve the purity
of the Pax Ramblum.
The Secretary
