Arthur Starkie Marston Moor Memorial March

One event that is always organised by Glemham's is the Marston Moor march which we put on every year to honour those who gave their lives during the Civil War itself, and also members of the Sealed Knot who are no longer with us. One of the members of our regiment has written a piece about why we call it the Arthur Starkie Marston Moor Memorial March:

Arthur Starkie - 1936-1999

Arthur joined The Sealed Knot Society in its very early days. He became a General in the mid-seventies and was a very devoted and well-loved member of the Society.

He was a drama teacher in Wakefield for 24 years, first at Thornes High School and then as head of drama at the Cathedral School. He was also closely involved with the re-opening of the Wakefield Theatre Royal and Opera house in 1986.

After his retirement he took up acting professionally, including his own shows portraying the lives of Charles I and Richard III, which took place in such venues as Middleham Castle in North Yorkshire.

He was also a skilled (and renowned) model maker. He made many special theatre masks: his model of the Elizabethan Blackfriars Theatre is on display in the Globe Theatre, London and his model of The Globe is on display in the Shakespeare Centre, Stratford.

In 1998 he was diagnosed as suffering from Motor Neurone Disease and within months was completely paralysed and unable to speak. This did not stop him though - he continued to turn up at musters (thanks to the loving care of his wife, Irene, and the help of a special wheelchair and vehicle).

He and Irene were awarded the Len Sutton Trohy in 1999 by the Sealed Knot. This trophy is awarded for devotion/work above and beyond the call of duty - which his determined attendance at musters certainly merited. Arthur's final acting role was as King Charles I at our muster on the Isle of Wight.

His last few months were spent in a nursing home, and although he could only communicate with the aid of an alphabet board, one twitching eyebrow and a twinkle in his eye, his hilarious sense of humour never left him.

An important part of Arthur's hobby was the institution of a Memorial March to be held every year at Marston Moor, to remember those who had died so valiantly in the Royalist cause. This constituted, in the early years, of a march from the village of Tockwith to Long Marston, with a pause at the memorial for a short service. Alternate years, the march went in the opposite direction, from Long Marston to Tockwith. It is approximatley one mile from village to memorial and a further mile to the next village (then of course most of us walked back to the first village to reclaim our cars!).

We meet at the local pub and (naturally) refresh ourselves before starting on the march - and of course on our return.

As the years have gone on, this memorial service has also remembered those in the Knot who have passed on. Arthur himself had his ashes scattered by cannon at the memorial.
Following Arthur's death, command of the Memorial March passed to Dave Murry-Fenwick. He decided that to re-name it as the Arthur Starkie Memorial March was a very fitting tribute to a very special man - and so it has been ever since.

Anne Rhodes

Major David Murry-Fenwick carrying Arthur Starkie's colours at Ripple in 2005

Arthur 1936-1999

This poem was composed and read by David Murry-Fenwick on the occasion of the scattering of Arthur Starkie's ashes by cannon fire, during the Service of Remembrance at the Marston Moor Memorial:

Flags flutter fragile farewells,
Soldiers stand saluting,
Dressed in fine array.

Drums beat the march is slow,
Battle standards draped,
On this last parade.

We have marched this march,
With pike staff held high,
Beside gallant men with muskets at their shoulders,
To say our last goodbyes.

Farewell, farewell dear comrade,
On beyond the gates,
To sit and talk with Charlie I,
And Cromwell too we'd say.

In summers to come we'll sit and talk,
By the camp fire bright and warm,
We'll talk of dear Arthur,
Until the new day dawns.

Farewell,farewell this day,
And off to pastures new,
For we will meet in time to come,
Till then we say adieu.