Amid fears that the secluded house and grounds could be attacked, a spokesman for Grampian Police said last night that they were well aware of the website and its contents. It has already succeeded in having it pulled from one internet service provider only to see it pop up elsewhere. A previous version of the site also contained veiled threats and incitement to violence against the celebrities named “These people don’t live in fireproof houses. They’re not immortal,” it read.Richard Adams, the author of Watership Down, heads the alphabetical list, which gives his home address and private telephone number, because he is known to be a keen angler. The Right Rev Peter Price, Bishop of Bath and Wells, and the Right Rev John Oliver, Bishop of Hereford, are also on the hate list although it does not associate them with any specific blood sport.”We don’t know who put this site up but we can have a fair guess,” said a spokesman for the Countryside Alliance.

Other celebrities named include Sting, Ian Botham, Jeremy Clarkson, Roger Daltrey, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Sir Jackie Stewart and Raymond Blanc. Special Branch officers are understood to have been in contact with a number of people on the list warning them of the dangers.Under the headline “Celebrity Bloodsports Scum”, the website, posted by a previously unknown group of activists calling themselves Badgers Unknown, calls the celebrities “twisted perverts and walking advertisements for eugenics”.Yesterday a spokesman for the Countryside Alliance – the senior figures of which have also been identified – labelled the suspects believed to be behind the hate list as “vicious and dangerous people”.The alliance has been monitoring the site, which hints at violence and death threats, for a few weeks. We are constantly reviewing our product ranges in the light of customer feedback.”. Animal rights activists have posted the names, home addresses and telephone numbers of more than 100 famous people on a website inciting fellow activists to carry out firebomb attacks. This is very gory and it is unacceptable in this day and age that any animal should be killed purely for clothing It really smacks of the Stone Age. I don’t know how these animals died but from looking at other fur farms many are gassed or electrocuted.”The campaigners have called for a boycott of the store.Yvonne Taylor, a spokeswoman for the pressure group Advocates for Animals, said: “Having seen other fur farms, some of these animals are probably still alive while they are being skinned after gassing – their suffering must be horrendous.

About 100 hamsters would be needed to make each coat.”A spokeswoman for The House of Bruar said: “We pride ourselves on our relationship with our customers and are concerned that we may have offended some people. If you come down here and you’re feeling lonely, you can find someone to pass the time of day with, even if it’s only to say, ‘Aren’t the flowers beautiful?’.”She casts her hand towards the crocus beds, which are bright with the same petals that were interred with the remains of Albert Heymann “Why should we give up all this for commerce?”. I’ve spent many happy days in this park with my children and grandchildren. He was a donor to the General Hospital and General Dispensary. Animal rights campaigners are protesting over the first sales in Britain of fur coats made from hamsters. On one of the tennis courts, a young family is playing doubles, children versus adults. Next to them, a couple of boys begin a game, bopping a foam-rubber ball back and forth with a pair of cheap pink plastic rackets.

A trio of girls dressed in identical quilted jackets are running across the garden, shrieking and giggling.Joyce Langdon, however, should have the last words: “I’ve told my family,” she informs me, “don’t bother giving me a fancy funeral, just put me in a cardboard box and incinerate me, and scatter my ashes here. “Albert Heymann was the father of modern Bridgford,” Geoffrey Oldfield tells me, when I pay a visit to him in person. “He devoted himself to public life.”In the closing years of the 19th century, one of Mr Oldfield’s predecessors, John Mellors, ended an account of the town’s history with this extravagant encomium: “We have now surveyed West Bridgford in relation to its past history, and present state,” he wrote. “We have noticed its social institutions, promotive of neighbourly feeling and cheerful exercise; its administration, with every provision for health, convenience and comfort without the demoralisation resulting from public houses; and looking around we exclaim, ‘Bridgford is a place of which we may be proud; an honour to have had a hand in its governance; a garden city which other places may with advantage copy; and from which should go forth a noble band of young people to bless the world’.”There’s time for a last look around the park before I take the bus back to Nottingham. A souvenir brochure describes the attractions: a maypole decorated by a team of 30 children, the performance of a one-act farce entitled Cross Purposes by a band of amateur actors; a display of tableaux vivants, peopled by the citizens of West Bridgford; the exhibition of the preserved head of an American Indian chief named Tibbi.