JOHN DOBLE BURRIDGE - born 1786 Stoke Court, Stoke St Mary

The poem below by John Doble Burridge was discovered by Tom Mayberry over 25 years ago at Stoke Court.

Six weeks of illness in the autumn of 1811 gave John Doble Burridge the opportunity to write his 'Concise and Impartial Essay on the British Constitution', published in Taunton in the following year. Ever since his ancestor William Doble had entered one of the Inns of Court, John Burridge's family had been connected with the law. John was the youngest member of a landowning family established in the village since the 1660s. In the days of their prosperity they had laid our formal gardens, dug a lake, and built a prospect tower on the Mount. but the estate declined under the effects of a disputed succession, agricultural depression and mismanagement by John's widowed mother: she defrauded her children of large amounts of money in an attempt to stave off bankruptcy, and in 1817 John wrote, 'I am really without the sum of ten shillings in my pocket'. that is perhaps why he allowed his 'trifling essay' to be republished in 1819, adding to it a poem in praise of his native village. It is not known where or when John died, but his sister Sarah lies with six generations of her family under the chancel of the St. Mary's church. She was the last Burridge of Stoke.

STOKE ST MARY - A Poetical Eulogium, by John Doble Burridge (1819)

Oh cheerful Stoke, my native peaceful spot, Sacred your name, though I should be forgot, To all your sons - who e'er will grateful be To praise the birth-place of their liberty. Oft on thy thymy Mount's parch'd brow I've laid, Inhal'd the breeze, and Portman's Wood survey'd There view'd bright Phoebus quit the dusky plain, And tinge afar yon western foaming main: With pensive thoughts on glad creation's store, The rich man's state comparing with the poor; A thousand other thoughts delight me more. There oft the village bells have met my ear, Proclaiming rural pastimes - simple cheer. Ye pendant copses oft of russet hue, Oh aid me, Muse! to paint your beauties true; - The tall aspiring fir and shady oak, Whose boughs are black with neighb'ring cottage smoke, How oft the perch of gently cooing doves, That nightly tell their mutual ardent loves: Sweet Philomela 'tunes your skirts along, At eve's approach, with charming varied song. The plaintive brook and blackbird swell the choir With airs more dignified than harp or lyre: Here speckled trout in wanton leaps oft rise, Enliven'd by the blue ethereal skies, While tinkling sheep-bells and the ploughboy's voice, Cause hollow rocks with rural sounds rejoice: Oft frisking lambkins skip in winding flight, Adown the steep impell'd with Spring's delight: Through vistas too the browsing flocks are seen, And high impending woods make currents green: Here num'rous orchards, deck'd in crimson hue, Present the fairest prospects to our view. The vale abounds in rich luxuriant soil, Well cultur'd by the rustic's hardy toil; Here yellow Ceres, with her bounteous hand, Diffuses plenty for dependant man: - But now enough, - romantic spot adieu! When distant, how my bosom beats for you. John Doble Burridge, (1819)

The Mount, Stoke St. Mary, 2001