About johnshortlandwriter

John the Writer: It is as natural for me to write as it is for me to eat or drink (sometimes I forget to do both when the ink is flowing). For years I would write – then shuffle the words until satisfied - then shred it. The act of writing was enough. One day I thought that seemed just a tiny bit silly so saved them on the computer and Life in the English Cotswolds was born. That was in 2009 and to my surprise people like you came along and liked what you saw. Since then, over 180,000 of you have visited, commented and become ‘friends’. Thank you! 2012 saw the very first Chipping Norton Literary Festival take place with which I was closely involved for several years. It was there that I was approached to write my book, Why Can’t my Garden Look Like That?, published a year later by How To Books, an imprint of Constable & Robinson and now part of Little, Brown. Over the years, my blog has expanded to cover many topics ranging from travel to family history and much else. This has brought a new audience with it for which I am both delighted and grateful. John the Gardener: The earliest image of me gardening is one of me as a child of about four using – well that’s too strong a word for it – a rake. Gardening is in my blood for every member of my family have been keen amateur gardeners (I am the only one doing it for a living). Whether it was aunts, grandparents or my father, everywhere I went they were in the garden tending flowers and vegetables or in the greenhouse potting up seedlings. Indoors, around the table, the talk was all about plants. Despite that, I started off my working life (apart from a short stint on a remote Exmoor farm) in the rag trade – selling men’s and women’s fashions. All the time, the great outdoors beckoned so it was off to horticultural college as a mature student before becoming Head Gardener to several large, country estates. That was twenty years ago now and every day I realise that not only did I make a great career move but just how lucky I am. Another sideways step brought me to where I am now – designing gardens, showing others how to garden and looking after gardens. And, of course, writing about it. John the Countryman: I have lived in the country all my life. As a child I spent my time exploring the lanes, woodlands and orchards of the Chilterns, that range of glorious, chalk hills cloaked with beech trees. Each spring they become carpeted with tens of thousands of bluebells. It was here, as a small boy, that I learnt about the wild plants and animals that share our world, a magical place. In more recent times I moved to the Cotswolds – only 50 miles away yet a completely different range of hills both geologically and in character. Here, there are wide open views and skyscapes, dry stone walls and rushing streams and some of the prettiest towns and villages in Britain. I now live in a tiny stone cottage beside the winding river in the photo above, all tucked way in a secret valley. Bliss. Horses and dogs play an important part in my life too. More bliss. John the Explorer: The description is a tad exaggerated but I have had my moments. I guess that spending a night in a hostel for down and outs in the Rocky Mountains (how did I mistake it for a hotel and why didn’t I leave, I often ask myself), being stuck in a blizzard in an Indian reservation at 3 am in the morning in the far north of Canada or getting caught up in an attempted coup in Sudan probably allows me some claim to the title. Recent years have seen my exploring closer to home, in considerably more comfort and a lot less scary. Well, in principle, it is. I spend a lot of time on Exmoor, my spiritual home of over 45 years, and Ireland is another place that I visit frequently. Strangely, things still don’t always seem to go quite to plan …

Richard Jefferies – His Passion Lives On

Posted on February 19, 2014 by johnshortlandwriter

Great artists such as Gainsborough, Turner and Reubens speak to us down the centuries through their work as do poets but how many people still read the great – or the lesser – writers from years past? The Bible is still read regularly by some, Shakespeare’s more famous lines are often quoted and we all think we know Bronte and Dickens whereas, in reality, most of us know the characters only as interpreted through television and film. However, authors from past centuries still have much to offer whether it be for historical background, research or, simply, pleasure.

I have always lived in the country and my fascination with the natural world began at a very early age. My kindergarten class was taken on a nature walk and, as our teacher showed us the magical things to be found along the way, I became hooked and wanted to know more. There are many excellent wildlife manuals and handbooks, new and old, that give detailed descriptions more often than not, in a rather dry, analytical way. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if there was someone who could give all this information in great detail; who would notice the minutiae of everyday things, whether a flower, a wild creature or even of man, himself? In the late nineteenth century there was one such person, now forgotten by most, and his name is Richard Jefferies – most definitely not a poet but there is poetry in his words.

Jefferies, born in 1848, in a Wiltshire (England) farmhouse suffered ill-health and subsequent poverty for much of his life. From a young age he had enjoyed solitude and wandering about the countryside and here he developed a fascination for the Iron Age hill fort on nearby Liddington Hill and the wildlife that could be found there. Employment as a reporter, initially with a local newspaper, developed his writing skills and his literary work began to be published, first as a series of essays and later in book form, from 1874. He died from tuberculosis in 1887. His books vary from collections of nature notes and the countrymen he encountered on his travels to novels, including one, After London, which would now be described as post-apocalyptical. In it he describes how nature has taken over the now vanished city with its few surviving inhabitants returning to the lifestyle of many centuries before. Jefferies still has his devotees, myself included, and he deserves better recognition. The remainder of this post is my demonstration of how his words are of relevance to everyone today, especially those who are passionate about the wonders of nature – not the awe-inspiring world famous creatures or places but the everyday ones, found all around us, that should be equally awe-inspiring.

Nothing sums up my feelings towards the natural world better than these words of his. They almost seem to have been written to illustrate this photograph of myself aged four with my father.

“So it seemed to me as a boy, sweet and new like this each morning; and now after the years they have passed, and the lines they have worn in the forehead, the summer mead shines as bright and fresh as when my foot first touched the grass…”

The Open Air, 1885

“Next he stepped into the current, which, though shallow, looked strong enough to sweep him away. The water checked against him rose to the white mark on his breast. He waded up the rapid, every now and then thrusting his head completely under the water; sometimes he was up to his neck, sometimes not so deep; now and then getting on a stone…” The Water Colley (Dipper), The Life of the Fields, 1884

“In the evening of a fine day the mists may be seen from hence as they rise in the meadows … beginning first over the brooks, a long white winding vapour marking their course, next extending over the moist places and hollows.”

Wild Life in a Southern County, 1879

“Sometimes through these narrow slits (of cloud), long beams of light fall aslant upon the distant fields of the vale. They resemble, only on a greatly lengthened scale, the beams that may be seen in churches of a sunny afternoon, falling from the upper windows on the tiled floor of the chancel, and made visible by motes in the air. So through such slits in the cloudy roof of the sky the rays of the sun shoot downwards, made visible on their passage by the moisture or the motes of the atmosphere… the labourers say that the sun is sucking up water there.”

Wild Life in a Southern County, 1879

“It is midsummer, and midsummer, like a bride, is decked in white. On the high-reaching briars

white June roses; white flowers on the lowly brambles; broad white umbels of elder in the corner, and white cornels blooming under the elm; honeysuckle hanging creamy white coronals round the ash boughs; white meadow-sweet flowering on the shore of the ditch; white clover, too, beside the gateway. As spring is azure and purple, so midsummer is white, and autumn golden. Thus the coming out of the wheat into ear is marked and welcomed with the purest colour.”

Nature Near London, 1883

“…and finally is lost in the vast marshes which cover the site of the ancient London… There exhales from this oozy mass so fatal a vapour that no animal can endure it. The black water bears a greenish-brown floating scum, which for ever bubbles up from the putrid mud of the bottom. When the wind collects the miasma, and, as it were, presses it together, it becomes visible as a low cloud which hangs over the place. The cloud does not advance beyond the limit of the marsh, seeming to stay there by some constant attraction; and well it is for us that it does not, since at such times when the vapour is thickest, the very wildfowl leave the reeds, and fly from the poison. There are no fishes, neither can eels exist in the mud, nor even newts. It is dead.”

After London, 1885

“…the heat pours down by day as if an invisible lens in the atmosphere focussed the sun’s rays.

Strong woody knapweed endures it, so does toadflax and pale blue scabious, and wild mignonette…”

Pageant of Summer, 1884

“Nature is a miniature painter and handles a delicate brush, the tip of which touches the tiniest

spot and leaves something living. The park has indeed its larger lines, its broad open sweep,

and gradual slope, to which the eye accustomed to small inclosures requires time to adjust

itself. These left to themselves are beautiful; they are the surface of the earth, which is always true

to itself and needs no banks nor artificial hollows. The earth is right and the tree is right: trim

either and all is wrong.”

Field & Hedgerow, 1889

Fortunately, much of his work is still readily available as books and, often, as free e-books. The Richard Jefferies Society promotes his writing and holds regular meetings. Visit their website by clicking the link here. The farmhouse where Richard Jefferies grew up is now a museum dedicated to his life and work and well worth visiting. Click here for details.

Clearing the Streets of Oxford

Posted on January 24, 2014 by johnshortlandwriter

From the earliest days of the universities, there have been tensions between Oxford’s ‘Town & Gown’, the term used to describe the non-academics and scholars. In the 1300’s there were two days of rioting after two students complained of the quality of the local ale leaving many killed. Not all altercations have ended in bloodshed and it was a general consensus to improve access into the town that the Covered Market was created. The design was to be of the highest standard (by John Gwynn, designer of the Magdalen Bridge) although today it is all too easy not to notice the craftsmanship of the building.

In 1771 an Act was passed to rid the streets of food stalls and by 1774 the market had opened for business. Originally, twenty butcher’s shops and stalls were built, swiftly followed by a further twenty. Today, 240 years later, meat and poultry are still sold there with fruit and vegetables alongside clothing, footwear and jewellery. Numerous cafes feed and water students, residents and tourists alike, fortunately no longer causing riots.

In recent times there has been a controversial increase in rent which has allegedly caused some businesses to close. However, despite the present recession, the market is thriving although, in true market tradition, it is always possible to find a bargain there.

After the enclosed and bustling avenues of the market it is refreshing to step into the open air once more and to take in the sights and sounds of the city. Surrounded by the historic colleges with their splendid architecture it is all too easy to forget that the market has played an important role in shaping the town. It has a fascinating story of its own to tell.

Information about visiting the market, its present traders and its illustrious past can be found on it’s website. Click this link here to find out more.

A Year in Review 2013: the Second Half

Posted on January 5, 2014 by johnshortlandwriter

July to the end of December already is a memory and rapidly becoming a distant one at that. Just five days into January and Christmas seems further back in the mind than it is in reality. 2014 has arrived and I am optimistically looking forward to all that it may bring. Not that the last one was disappointing or sad in any way; just that with time flying by it is essential to make the most of every moment. Of course, I’m very fortunate: I have my health, I have a great job, friends and family I can always rely upon and I live in a superb part of the English countryside. Long may all those things last!

July: The highlight of my year occurred this month. An exciting and memorable launch of my first book to be published – a gardening book – Why Can’t My Garden Look Like That? took place in Chipping Norton’s award winning bookshop, Jaffe & Neale. Would anyone turn up? As it happened, very many did with people overflowing onto the street, the warm, sunny evening and the wine contributing to a street party feel to the occasion. If you wish to find out more of the book or would like a signed copy you can find details here.

Many people are attracted to the magnificent looking but dangerous Giant Hogweed, also the subject of a post this month. I was delighted when photographs from it were used in an educational video by the Hamilton County Soil and Water Conservation District (New York State). Take heed of the messages if you come across the plant!

August: Travelling around the Cotswold Hills as I do every day in the course of my work you would think I would know most of what goes on there. Nevertheless, I was surprised when I saw Tibetan flags fluttering in the breeze. Further investigation found Alain Rouveure’s galleries and tea room. Of course, I couldn’t leave until I’d tried out their lunch…

September: Street fairs have been held for hundreds of years throughout England and Chipping Norton has an annual one that dates back to medieval charters. Originally the time when livestock was sold and labour sought, these days they are purely held for pleasure. Traffic has to be diverted around the town as the centre is blocked off by the rides and stalls. Noisy, crowded and well lit they are great fun but I found myself completely alone in darkness walking around it late one night. It was an eerie experience, described here.

October: The appearance of the secret valley was changed dramatically when the willow trees that line the banks of our little winding river were pollarded. This dramatic ‘haircut’ is carried out only when necessary, the last time about fifteen years ago. Suddenly, the view in the header of this blog has become wide open as every branch was removed leaving just the trunks standing. The secret valley looks naked now but ‘new clothes’ will grow rapidly this coming spring.

November: History isn’t just about learning dates of battles, the most interesting aspects are those that we can so easily relate to. Yet so much of this is forgotten over time and it takes teams of dedicated people, often volunteers, to literally unearth it. A now deserted and seemingly empty part of the Exmoor National Park was, one hundred and fifty years ago, teeming with people and was at the very forefront of Victorian technology. It was quite extraordinary what these engineers achieved and their story featured in two posts which created much interest and comment. They can be found by clicking here and here.

December: The blogging year ended on a cuddly note – looking after two adorable but naughty beagle puppies. If you are a dog lover there is nothing better than to be mauled by puppies. If you’re not over-keen on dogs then you won’t understand the attraction! You could try to find out, however, by clicking here.

So what’s going on in 2014? Lots, hopefully. There is a new racehorse, more gardening, more travel, a lot more writing; it will be a busy year and how it pans out time – and this blog – will tell.

Thank you all so much for following my blog. Over one hundred thousand of you have looked at it since its inception which I find quite extraordinary and very humbling. Please continue to do so and to tell all your blogging friends to come and pay me a visit, either on here or at my full website www.johnshortlandwriter.com . I am also on Facebook and Twitter where daily updates can be found. You are always very welcome to contact me with your comments or queries and I will do my best to answer them all.

Wishing you all a very happy and healthy New Year.

Christmas Greetings 2013

Posted on December 23, 2013 by johnshortlandwriter

A Year in Review 2013: The First Six Months

Posted on December 21, 2013 by johnshortlandwriter

As I feared, once you reach a certain age, time flies by even quicker than before and that certainly has happened in 2013. Where has the year gone? The only consolation is that speaking with young people, they say the same thing. Perhaps that is a rather sad reflection of modern living for I often found that the time didn’t go by quickly enough years ago! Despite the year having gone by rapidly, it has been a great one with some excitement along the way.

January: it is rapidly becoming a tradition that each New Year’s Day some close friends and I go off exploring. This usually includes a museum and food. The year before it had been London with a visit to the National Portrait Gallery followed by afternoon tea at my favourite grocers, Fortnum & Mason. This January it was to the city of Bath with its glorious abbey church where Edgar was crowned King of England in 973AD. The church has the most exquisite vaulting – it is hard to believe that such fine tracery can be achieved by carving stone. Bath, which is a World Heritage Site, is famous for its Roman Baths built about a thousand years earlier and which are open to visitors. A great place to view them from are the Pump Rooms, the imaginary setting of Sheridan’s Georgian play, The Rivals. It was here that we had our champagne tea.

February was a mixed month weather-wise in the secret valley and one post describes the rain lashing against the windows and the trees being thrown around by a winter gale. Despite that the winter aconites were in full flower advertising the advance of spring and the wild birds were hanging onto the feeders for dear life. Take away the aconites and we have a carbon copy day as I write this and, although there are no signs of spring yet, we are passing the shortest day which is always encouraging.

March was a strange month too with huge amounts of rain interspersed with wintry weather. Even stranger was the affect it had upon the secret valley’s frog population. I can only assume that it was because everything was so saturated that, instead of laying their spawn in the small lake that is visible from the cottage, they laid them instead upon the tops of nearby fence posts. They couldn’t possibly have survived there anyway but it was sad to see a few days later that they had turned black and ‘melted’ when a hard frost fell upon them.

April is the month of the Chipping Norton Literary Festival. I have been on the committee since its inception and it has been gratifying to find that it has rapidly established a good reputation with authors, publishers and festival goers. One of the star attractions for 2013 was Sir Julian Fellowes of Downton Abbey fame. Because it is a small festival in a small, country town the atmosphere is very relaxed and it is possible to meet the authors for book signings or just a chat as they stroll about ‘Chippy’. This coming year the festival takes place from 24-27 April and tickets go on sale next month – check out the website for more details.

April also saw the launch of my new website www.johnshortlandwriter.com and also the start of my tweeting. Come and join me @johnshortlandwr

May: As I am always saying the secret valley is a magical place to live and one of the things that makes it so special is its history. Not the history of history books but the type that goes unrecorded other than by the clues it leaves behind in the landscape. Here we have a patch of rough ground left uncultivated that is the invisible site of a Bronze Age settlement. Later, almost to within living memory, the lane was a drover’s route and, in places, the road has been abandoned to become a green track full of wild flowers and butterflies. We still refer to one place as the ‘white gate’ even though it was removed a hundred years ago or more. It feels special to know that the valley has been lived in and loved for over three thousand years.

It was also a very exciting time as my gardening book was published accompanied by radio and other interviews. The launch party took place a couple of months later.

June is a colourful time of year in gardens and one thing I’ve always wanted to create is an Iris border. This is an extravagance of space that few can afford for they are only in flower for a relatively short time. However, one of my clients liked the idea so the ‘rainbow’ border was created. Interest is extended by daffodils and alliums for earlier colour and Japanese anemones, with large flowered clematis behind, for later on.

To read any of the posts referred to above just click on the links, coloured green.

Puppy Walking

Posted on December 15, 2013 by johnshortlandwriter

Whether you love it or hate it, hunting with dogs has been part of the country way of life for millennia: it was mentioned in Greek mythology and must have a much earlier history even than that. These days in the UK there are many restrictions to hunting with a pack of hounds. This hasn’t prevented the hunts from adapting their practice to continue within the law; many now track a human quarry or laid trail. This post, however, is not a treatise in support for or against hunting, it is only about one of the most delightful of hound breeds, the Beagle.

Beagles are possibly one of the oldest breeds with records of the type dating back to pre-Norman Conquest days although they did not look as they do now. By Elizabethan times they were popular miniature dogs small enough to travel comfortably in a pocket. As fox-hunting grew in popularity during the 18th and 19th centuries there became a need for a larger hound and all but one variety of Beagle became extinct. The forerunners of today were preserved by a few enthusiasts for hunting rabbits. By the late 1800’s hunting hare with beagles had become established and the breed was secure although the rough-coated ones had died out by the First World War. The breed was much heavier in those early days with coarser features and they still have a tendency to become overweight if not exercised adequately.

There are now sixty Beagle packs in Britain today. It is a necessity for hounds when kept in packs to become used to human company and experience a wider environment than they would get in kennels from an early age and so Daring and Darkness came to live with us for a while; a procedure known as ‘puppy walking.’ Like all puppies they were into absolutely everything and although Darkness was the less inquisitive of the two neither could be described as shy. With a hunting dog this forward going has to be encouraged although once when out exercising them they came face to face with a hare – their traditional quarry (now illegal) – they seemed baffled. It is impossible to see the hare in the photo below but it is within fifteen feet of Daring who didn’t live up to his name on this occasion.

The puppies remained with us for several months until the day came when their hunting instincts began to take over. Once following a scent, hounds become oblivious to anything else so shouting at them to come to heel has no affect. It takes nerve to wait for them to return which may be anything up to several hours later. There is no place for free roaming dogs in sheep country and so it was time for them to be returned to the kennels to join the rest of the pack. Over the following months we saw them on a number of occasions happy being part of the gang once more.

Despite being great fun to have around, I don’t feel that they are the best breed to have as pets – although I realise that there are many beagle owners who will disagree with me. Their tendency to put on weight, their liking the company of other dogs and especially their tendency to howl being my main reasons.

Their stamina and highly developed scenting ability has made them superb hunting dogs and these traits are put to excellent use as search and rescue dogs. And, of course, they also make first rate and long-lived cartoon dogs – take a bow, Snoopy!

The Hidden History of the Brendon’s

Posted on December 4, 2013 by johnshortlandwriter

The Brendon Hills, part of the Exmoor National Park, are less well-known than the barren moorland to its west that gives the park its name. Here the landscape is a patchwork of lush, green fields and of woodlands bordered to the north by the sea. It is a quiet landscape with only the sounds of birdsong and the occasional farm vehicle to disturb its peace. It wasn’t always like this, however, for during the nineteenth century it was the centre of a great, albeit relatively short-lived, mining venture. Today, much of this has been forgotten.

The West Somerset Mineral Railway was built to link iron ore mines with the seaport of Watchet for transportation to the steelyards of south Wales. Much of its route can be walked and there are several ruins, some of national importance, that have been conserved. One of the most dramatic is the Incline, where trains hauled truckloads of ore – and passengers – up a 1 in 4 steep hillside, climbing 800 feet in just over half a mile*. I have written about this feat of Victorian engineering in an earlier post and this can be found by clicking on the link here.

A ruin less impressive than that of the Incline but no less extraordinary in its day is the Langham Hill Engine House built in 1866. All that remains now is the footprint of the building but a good idea of what it must have looked like and how it worked can be had from the artist’s impression by Anne Leaver shown on the nearby information board.

The engine house was created to draw the iron ore from three separate workings to the surface by sinking a new shaft at Langham Hill. Powered by steam engines, the ore was pulled up to ground level by trams rising from a depth of up to 650 feet. The miners who had to descend by ladder were protected from falling by a series of wooden platforms upon which the ladders rested – if they fell they would only drop the length of each ladder, reducing the risk of serious injury. The steam engines also powered underground pumps to keep the shafts clear of water; this was filtered, stored in reservoirs and reused by the engines – an early example of recycling. Once the ore was brought to the surface it was tipped into trucks to be carried away by the railway.

Another extraordinary feat of engineering was the aerial tramway that brought iron ore to Langham Hill in buckets from another mine over half a mile away. A length of the steel cables, which are over four inches in thickness, can be seen coiled by the engine house. The figures are staggering: the overhead cable was a single, endless 6700 feet length supported on wooden pylons, at times carrying the ore 300 feet above ground level and crossing a 2000 feet wide valley. No wonder the miners called it ‘the flying machine’.

It is hard to imagine, when visiting the engine house now, the noise, bustle and industry that took place here just 150 years ago. Two hundred miners and their families, mostly from Wales came to live and work here, yet within fifty years all mining had ceased. The engine house only survived for ten years: its engine and even the house itself, dismantled and reused in mines elsewhere. The aerial tramway lasted an even shorter time being in use for only three years before new transportation technology overtook it.

Today all is silent, the site surrounded by trees and ferns. For many years the remains of the mines remained hidden until the combined efforts of a number of individuals and groups fought to preserve them. The West Somerset Mineral Railway Project came into being and has succeeded in doing so; it has also created a permanent exhibition housed in the museum in Watchet. Its research of the history of the mines is available online – visit their website here.

*Nigel Cavey has through the Exmoor4All website has correctly pointed out that the iron ore would only have descended the Incline. The trucks carried coal and lime, as well as passengers, up it.

Exmoor’s Forgotten Neighbour

Posted on November 20, 2013 by johnshortlandwriter

Sandwiched between barren Exmoor to the west and the rugged Quantocks to their east, the Brendon Hills appear remarkably fertile with their neat, small fields testament to a rich farming tradition. Now incorporated into the Exmoor National Park it seems to be as devoid of human life as it’s more visited partner. It has, however, a surprising past: travel back in time one hundred and fifty years and you would find yourself in a thriving community at the forefront of Industrial Revolution technology.

A corner of the ruined building

For years, I had been intrigued by a ruined building close to one of the few roads that leads onto Exmoor proper. Obviously once substantial, what could this building, miles from anywhere, have been and who lived there? There were no clues as I first approached but the ruins, now stabilised, have had information boards giving its history placed within. It was the site of an extraordinary Victorian venture that extracted iron ore and then transported it to the coast to ship to Wales for the steel industry. Although, there was now just this one ruined building, in its heyday over two hundred miners and their families lived close by in houses built especially for them.

Click on the image to enlarge the poster

The explosion of railway building in the mid 1800’s had created a huge demand for – and, consequently, a shortage of – iron ore. Mining had taken place in the region on a very small, localised scale for many centuries but the small quantities found had never been a commercial prospect. With the rapid rise in price and with advances in extraction the Ebbw Vale Company – Welsh steel works – developed the mines. A major problem was how to transport the ore the eleven miles from the furthest mine to the coast from where it could be shipped across the sea to Wales. The first six miles from the port of Watchet was straightforward enough, the final six miles along the top of the Brendons, although more costly, also did not create a major problem. It was the mile that included the climb of a 1 in 4 hillside that proved to be a challenge and a costly one at that – over ten times the amount required for the same length elsewhere and over £2 million in today’s prices. ‘The Incline’ was completed in 1861 and took just four years to build, rising almost 800 feet in just 0.6 of a mile.

The ruins of the winding house as seen from the top of the incline

Trucks of iron ore were lowered or raised down the incline on twin rails, their steam locomotives held in place by steel cables. The huge drums that were required to do this were housed in the ‘winding house’ with the cables travelling through stone tunnels, now the silent home of bats. The force of gravity brought empty trucks to the top in twelve minutes as the weight of the full ones descended. At the top of the incline the trucks passed over the roof of the winding house. Communications between the men at the top and bottom were by semaphore.

The winding house – the trains passed over its roof

The cable tunnels

The price of iron ore and the methods of extraction continued to change rapidly and the railway never made a profit, with the mines closing just eighteen years later. Remarkably, the railway continued to carry passengers for a further five years seated on wooden planks bolted to the tops of the iron ore trucks. It must have been an extraordinary experience to be hauled up the incline and travelling back down couldn’t have been for the faint-hearted!

The incline today belieing the industry and grit of the men that created it

An even more short-lived attempt to re-open the mine was thwarted by the outbreak of the Great War and in 1916 the sleepers and rails were requisitioned and the drums blown up, demolishing part of the winding house building. A further attempt to rebuild the winding house for agricultural use was abandoned during WWII and it was only with the help of a National Lottery grant that the buildings were recently stabilised and the incline cleared of scrub and restored.

Marker stone

For further information including many early photographs and drawings visit the West Somerset Mineral Railway website by clicking here.

Going Naked

Posted on October 30, 2013 by johnshortlandwriter

We’ve gone naked here in the secret valley. Not literally, it’s far too close to winter for that sort of jolly jape. While we are busy putting on additional clothes, our lovely old willows that line the little winding river have been stripped of their top growth.

Gone are their branches and along with them so have the other plants that find a home in their mossy nooks and crannies. It is pollarding time and the lovely view that I have been used to seeing every day since I moved here twelve years ago has changed dramatically. Fortunately, all will return in abundance in due course.

Pollarded willows in the secret valley

Change, of course can be a good thing and it is interesting how spacious and full of light the valley now seems. It is also a good thing for the trees for without this drastic treatment they sometimes topple in storms. Pollarding actually prolongs the life of those tree species that can cope with such treatment. As a child I played in a woodland known as Burnham Beeches and there, some of the pollards are over five hundred years old. These old pollards support a huge variety of wildlife that has adapted over the centuries to the practice.

Ancient ash pollard – sad to think that it will probably now die because of the newly imported disease, Chalara

Now a rare sight – White Park cattle

Pollarding has been carried out since man’s earliest farming days and can really be considered as just another form of pruning. By cutting the branches above the reach of grazing animals, they can regrow without being damaged. In the past, cattle were allowed to roam in these ‘wood-pastures’ and in Burnham Beeches the practice has been reinstated after a gap of about two hundred years. The White Park cattle above are kept at Adam Henson’s, Cotswold Farm Park. Now endangered, this native breed is being used to graze freely in the Beeches which keeps the forest floor clear and improves diversity.

The timber from pollarding was used in a number of different ways. Most commonly, it provided firewood, with the trees cut every fifteen years, which is the case with our willows. Sometimes the pollards were cut more regularly to provide fodder for livestock.

It is surprising to see just how quickly new growth restarts. Without branches and leaves to support, the energy rising through the tree from its root system forces it to renew itself. The willows below are a little further up the valley and were pollarded in the early spring of this year. As can be seen they already have grown six feet or more.

Just six months of new growth

Pollarding of trees isn’t just practised in the depths of the country. It is frequently carried out in our towns and cities as street trees are kept within bounds. In the garden it is a good way to create interest – even a smallish garden can create a lime walk to give all year round appeal. The coloured stem willows are especially good for this purpose too as they quickly become dull and too large when left unchecked.

It will take time to become used to seeing the ‘new look’ secret valley, now so very different from the image that has become the trademark of this blog. In the past, cutting the trees would have given a team of men work for the whole winter. Now one man with a machine achieves it in five days. It may not be such a romantic notion but watching the tractor driver manipulate the claws of the cutter at every conceivable angle demonstrated that the old techniques have been replaced with skills every bit as impressive.

If you fancy trying your hand at pollarding you have a few months left to build up your courage! In the UK and those places with a similar climate it should be completed by mid-February.

More reading: click on the links below
Conservation of ancient pollards
Chalara in ash trees
White Park cattle and other endangered farm breeds
Adam Henson’s Cotswold Farm Park

An Ancient Craft – Flint Knapping

Posted on October 14, 2013 by johnshortlandwriter

The very earliest tools known to man were made of flint or antler and in the Chiltern Hills, where I was brought up and lived for most of my life, it wasn’t that unusual to dig up stone scrapers or even an occasional arrowhead, perhaps 4000 years old or more. One scraper that I found many years ago is shaped perfectly to fit between the thumb and forefinger and still has an edge so sharp that it cuts card.

To create these tools, the flints had to be chiselled or ‘knapped’, a technique that requires hitting the stone at an oblique angle with another hard object – such as another stone – to make it flake. With the coming of the Iron Age, the need for stone tools was no longer required but the skill did not die out and even today there is a requirement for the finished material.

Flint, a type of quartz, is extremely hard and durable and, being found in quantity in the chalk hills of the Chilterns, was the natural material for housing there. All types of properties used it from the humblest cottage to larger homes and churches.

One of the finest flint built villages can be found at Turville. If the two photos below look familiar this is because they feature in the comedy television series, The Vicar of Dibley with actress Dawn French, playing the part of the Revd. Geraldine Grainger. The village also featured in the 1998 film Goodnight Mr Tom, starring John Thaw. The church dates back to the twelfth century.

In the hills of the Cotswolds, the honey coloured limestone is the premier building material for almost everything but is especially well-known for its use in the dry stone field walls and village houses. At Stow-on-the-Wold in the centre of the region is the building below, once the office of the local brewery. It is rare to find flint used in the area and, as can be seen, it has been used decoratively, something that is not found to my knowledge in the Chilterns.

Although all of these images show properties that date back at least 150 years or more, flint continues to be occasionally used in modern housing and was even used as embankment supports on the M40 motorway when it was widened in the Chilterns a few years ago. As found throughout the centuries, when digging through the chalk, it proves to be the cheapest and most readily sourced building stone.

To find out more about flint knapping or to book a course to learn the art visit www.flintknapping.co.uk . It is worth looking at just to hear the magical sound of primitive flutes made from elder tree stems.