The mink move into Coxwold

Some, possibly a family of the creatures, have been noted near Coxwold, a beautiful village between Thirsk and Easingwold.

They might have established themselves in the overflow system from the lake at Newburgh Priory, and another earlier report suggested a mink has been living beside the stream known as Holbeck.

Its source is close to Byland Abbey – not far from Coxwold – from where it flows through Gilling East and Hovingham to join the River Rye near Slingsby.

Speaking personally, I have never seen a wild mink but they are known to be living in many parts of Britain. They are thriving in areas where they have firmly established themselves in spite of trapping and other efforts to eliminate them.

The animals in question are American mink and they arrived in this country from North America during the late 1920s when they were bred for their pelts.

This was considered the finest possible fur for wearing by fashionable ladies – a mink coat was widely regarded as one of the most splendid of female garments along with accessories like stoles, capes, muffs and hats. The commercial breeding of mink was a profitable business.

However, some of the fences surrounding mink farms were not very secure and several animals escaped to live in the wild. Indeed, it is known that some were deliberately released into the wild, some fairly recently by animal liberation activists. The first escaped mink enjoyed their freedom and quickly adapted to our climate and habitat, then by 1929 there were reports of them breeding wild in this country.

By the 1930s they had spread to most parts of Britain and were well established by the 1950s. Since then, they have expanded their range and are reportedly widespread throughout England, Scotland and Wales although their precise numbers have not, to my knowledge, been ascertained.

It seems they have no natural predators in this country and are extremely capable of adapting to any new habitats, some even living in towns and cities.

The chief problem is their consumption of fish stocks.

They will eat a large amount and a wide variety of fish, even raiding garden ponds and commercial fish farms to satisfy their appetite, but they will also kill and eat a range of wild animals, birds and invertebrates.

They are known to kill many water birds and their nestlings such as moorhens and coot. Quite unlike the wonderful fur they produce, the living mink are by no means nice cuddly creatures.

Although about half the size of an otter, a mink is a relation of the otter but also of the stoat, weasel, polecat and pine marten, and of course, our domestic ferret. It is about 16 inches long with an extra 5 inches for its tail. This means it is considerably larger than a stoat, but far larger than a weasel, being more like a polecat – or even a normal domestic cat – in size.

Some of us might not be familiar with the rich, soft, glossy and chocolate-brown shades of its splendid fur, once so fashionable in this country among smart ladies, but when the mink is on land or swimming in the water, its wet coat seems to be dull black and rather spiky. It is like a domestic cat that has fallen into a bath.

The mink’s relationship to the otter is shown in many ways and indeed, when swimming it can sometimes be mistaken for its cousin. One similarity is that the mink, like the otter, spends a lot of its time in water, living almost exclusively on the edge of ponds or waterways. Occasionally, however, it does venture inland.

Its food is predominantly fish or water birds but it will take rabbits, voles and other small creatures on land. It also has the habit of marking its territory with its spraint, the word for droppings. Green in colour, these are very smelly and often contain fish-bones – the otter also marks its territory with its smelly spraints.

The merits of having wild mink living in our country are debatable. It is claimed that mink are capable of driving otters and other animals such as water voles away from the normal habitat, but it is their destruction of our fish and waterside birds that is probably their worst crime.

At this time, young mink – probably five or six per brood – will be making their presence felt.

Until June, they may spend time with their mothers, foraging along our riverbanks and the shores of ponds, but by this coming autumn they will be fending for themselves.

To date, every attempt to limit their numbers has failed – it seems the mink is now part of our country’s interesting and varied wild life.

ARECENT visit to Stokesley confirmed oft-repeated reports that this is one of North Yorkshire’s most pleasing of market towns with its gracious buildings, large market place and well-tended green. Pretty bridges span the River Leven behind the town centre while one account tells us that in the 18th century, Stokesley Parish Church was shockingly ill-treated when its nave was entirely rebuilt.

One of my reference books, published in 1906, describes Stokesley as a finished town, a sleepy old place where the building of a house is almost the event of the century. It adds that a great future was forecast for Stokesley at the beginning of Cleveland’s iron-mining boom but it never materialised.

However, the same account says the town has an air of much respectability – and so it has. But, it seems, there is little of historic note, except its famous show and perhaps the following small event.

Lady Anne Balliol was laid to rest in the parish church some 750 years ago, her brother being the founder of Balliol College, Oxford, in 1263. That gives us some idea of the age of the original church.

In trying to unearth someof interest about Stokesley, I came across a reference to Anngrove Hall which stood in 1800 as the Manor House. I don’t think it became the current Manor House because Anngrove Hall was allowed to decay and disappear. I do not know whether the present Manor House is built on the site.

However, Anngrove Hall was the scene of a great mystery.

Around 1830, the undercoachman at the Hall, Henry Edwards, became engaged to the daughter of the owner.

Her father disapproved and promptly gave Edwards his notice. But as Edwards worked his notice, he was ordered to take a box of valuable crockery and jewellery to Thirsk and hand to a certain gentleman who was heading for London.

Edwards did not return and enquiries suggested he had fled with the valuables. A massive hunt failed to trace him and in time, the drama was forgotten. But Edwards’ sister, Polly, a servant at Great Ayton, was visiting Stokesley when she saw the ghost of her brother near Anngrove Hall. It was later seen by several others and then the horses of the master of Anngrove refused to cross the bridge to the Hall.

Polly asked the coachman for a shoe from one of the horses and she had it charmed by the Witch of Broughton, Hannah Waugh who said that if the killer of Henry Edwards looked upon that shoe, he would confess to the murder.

Polly contrived to ensure the master did look upon the shoe and when he did so, he turned deathly pale and shook in every limb. Polly called out, “Who murdered Edwards?” and thereafter no servant would ever work at Anngrove Hall.

With no staff and a ruined reputation, the owner left Anngrove Hall and eventually it fell into disrepair.

Later, when some men were digging in the former stackyard, seeking a lost ferret, they found some coat buttons, and then further digging revealed the corpse of Henry Edwards with a battered skull.