Listen to the track:
Padlocks and Poetry
In 1897 a dispute over rights of way at Langdon Barton, Wembury, reached Plymouth County Court. A parish councillor, long used to passing through the Broad Park gates, found them padlocked and broke them open — leaving behind a cheeky rhyme vowing to do it again. The courtroom rang with laughter as the verse was read aloud, though the jury ultimately ruled that the stile, not the gate, marked the legal path. They awarded the farmer five shillings in damages but urged that the stiles be made easier to climb.
Chorus
If again you lock this gate,
We’ll have it down as sure as fate.
This we’ll do, and then a while,
Rather than climb the ugly stile.
Verse 1
At Plymouth court the case was tried,
Of Langdon fields by Wembury side.
The farmer swore the gates were barred,
The parish man said they’d gone too far.
Chorus
If again you lock this gate,
We’ll have it down as sure as fate.
This we’ll do, and then a while,
Rather than climb the ugly stile.
Verse 2
Through Stevens Park the footpath ran,
By Broad Park fields it turned again.
The stile was steep, the steps were high,
But gates had swung to let folks by.
Chorus
If again you lock this gate,
We’ll have it down as sure as fate.
This we’ll do, and then a while,
Rather than climb the ugly stile.
Verse 3
The farmer said, “The stile’s enough,
To keep the sheep from roaming rough.
The gate is mine, the lock is clear,
No right of bridle passes here.”
Chorus
If again you lock this gate,
We’ll have it down as sure as fate.
This we’ll do, and then a while,
Rather than climb the ugly stile.
Verse 4
The parish man stood up to say,
“I’ve used those gates for many a day.
I broke the locks, I left this sign,
A verse to mark the people’s line.”
Chorus
If again you lock this gate,
We’ll have it down as sure as fate.
This we’ll do, and then a while,
Rather than climb the ugly stile.
Verse 5
The judge looked up with laughing eyes,
“A parish councillor making rhymes!
A poet’s hand, a padlock torn,
Yet law decides how paths are worn.”
Chorus
If again you lock this gate,
We’ll have it down as sure as fate.
This we’ll do, and then a while,
Rather than climb the ugly stile.
Verse 6
Old Joe recalled from years before,
The gate was chained, the stile the law.
The jury weighed both deed and word,
And found the farmer’s case was heard.
Chorus
If again you lock this gate,
We’ll have it down as sure as fate.
This we’ll do, and then a while,
Rather than climb the ugly stile.
Verse 7
Five shillings fine was all to pay,
Yet still the rhyme rings out today.
And voices call with knowing smile,
“For modern steps, a kinder stile.”
Final Chorus
If again you lock this gate,
We’ll have it down as sure as fate.
This we’ll do, and then a while,
Rather than climb the ugly stile.