Don’t Be Put Off By Its Name…

Posted on June 7, 2014 by johnshortlandwriter

Slaughter may not sound the most promising of names but Lower Slaughter situated in the heart of the Cotswold Hills is one of the prettiest and most unspoilt villages you can visit. Its unusual name is a derivation of the Old English word ‘slough’ meaning muddy patch but, if it was many years ago, it is certainly not one now. In fact, three years ago it was described in a poll as having ‘the most romantic street in Britain’.

Although there is some more recent housing discreetly tucked away most of the buildings date from the mid sixteenth to mid-seventeenth centuries. Its origins are even older for it was well established even before being recorded in the Domesday Book; this means that it has been continuously inhabited for over a thousand years.

Many of the oldest houses cluster around the the River Eye which, although shallow, is powerful enough to feed the undershot waterwheeel of the mill. This building, which now houses a small museum, is made from red brick – an unusual building material in this area – and was working as recently as the the late 1950’s. It is a comparatively modern building having been built in the 1800’s although a mill was recorded on the site in 1086. The tall chimney was built to give the mill additional steam power.

A similar tale can be told of the picturesque church with its tall spire which also dates from the ninteenth century. There are a few traces of the original building within it: an arcade of four bays dating back to the early 1200’s. The lichen encrusted gravestones in the churchyard also belie their age for burial rights were only granted in 1770 – before then villagers were buried in nearby Bourton-on-the-Water.

The countryside surrounding Lower Slaughter, and also the village itself, may not appear to have changed much in centuries but there is no doubt that they are very much ‘tidier’ than they once were. An old Pathe News clip shows the banks of the Eye overgrown – there probably wasn’t the same enthusiasm for cutting its grassy banks when it has to be done by scythe. Another change the film shows is the ‘locals’ sitting on the benches: nowadays, many of the houses are owned by the wealthy as weekend retreats and those exploring its lanes are visitors.

Lower Slaughter, despite its obvious attraction, has done very little to encourage tourism. It is still possible to sit there or cross its little stone footbridges or paddle in the ford and be transported back to a time when life ran at a much slower pace. It makes a very refreshing place for visitors to recharge the batteries after the crowds of its larger neighbours, Bourton and Stow-on-the-Wold or, for us lucky enough to live in the Cotswolds, to do the same after a hard day’s labour.

Lower Slaughter is just 2½ miles north of Bourton-on-the-Water and 3 miles west of Stow-on-the-Wold. The Old Mill sells great ice cream!

To see the Pathe News Clip from1939 click here

A Year In Review: 2012 The First Six Months

Posted on December 20, 2012 by johnshortlandwriter

One of the signs of getting older is that the days, weeks, months and years go by ever faster – this seems rather unfair as you are likely to have relatively few ahead of you. Not that I plan to leave this world just yet (well, not if I can help it), it is just that 2012 was the anniversary not just of the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee but also of mine which has focussed the mind, rather.

As the time has sped by so fast I thought I would review the year, if only to remind myself what I’ve been doing the past twelve months.

January: To London for the New Year. Whenever we visit ‘The Smoke’ (I wonder if anyone still calls it that now that the days of dense smog have long gone) it always ends up rather ‘foody’. That trip was no exception; we ate our way up the Kings Road, ate our way around Sloane Square and finally ate our way to Fortnum & Mason arriving in time for afternoon tea. Fortnum’s is the most wonderful grocery store on the planet – whereas, most people, especially those from overseas, visit Harrods, Fortnum’s is the one place you really shouldn’t miss. Everything about it is delightful and its afternoon teas are legendry. We did squeeze in a visit to the National Portrait Gallery but why show you images of great works of art when you can see photos of Fortnum’s? Add it to your list of ‘places I must visit before I die’.

February: A visit to Snowdonia staying at a friend’s isolated chapel house on the side of the mountains. The weather was quite kind to us considering the time of year so we were able to do a lot of walking. To our dismay, our favourite spot that we had christened ‘The Enchanted Forest’ because of its lichen encrusted trees and great mossy hummocks had been clear felled and all signs of it destroyed. This may sound like wanton vandalism but the trees had been planted for timber production regardless of the impact they had on the scenery. Now years later, there is a move to restore the mountains back to their original state which is, I’m sure, admirable and an ecologically sound thing to do. The trouble is that we loved this silent, brooding woodland that no-one, it seemed, apart from us ever visited and now it is gone. And with it has gone our desire to return but, who knows, perhaps we shall one day.

March: Recording the life of a hedgerow seemed like agood idea at the time. It was supposed to have become a month by month photographic notebook of the changes that took place during the year but sadly March turned out to be the first and only entry. As April arrived I took more photographs but when it came to blogging them they had disappeared (reappearing months later – one of the mysteries of computer technology). Then came the rain – and it has rained ever since – and the project was abandoned, apart from a vain attempt in May. The hedge, which is in the little lane that leads from our cottage up the hill out of the secret valley, is an ancient relic from the time of the Wychwood Forest, cleared in the very earliest days of British history. It is mentioned in the Domesday Book, that great list of the plunder of William the Conqueror, written in 1086. Although the forest has retreated by many miles there are still some fine trees standing and wild flowers that would normally be found in woodland still grow on its grassy banks. I shall make a resolution to resurrect the project in 2013.

April: Part of my everyday job as a practical gardener is pruning, a subject which is a mystery to many people and often fills them with terror at the very thought of wielding secateurs to a treasured shrub. Mahonia is one of those useful winter flowering plants that so often look dreadful as they become ever more gaunt and ungainly. This was the case with one in a client’s garden so it seemed a good idea to photograph the process of restoration and blog about it. That post has rapidly become my most read and I am glad to be able to report that the plant is thriving. Now covered in new flower buds and almost ready to open, it will welcome the New Year with the scent of lily-of-the-valley. If you have one in your garden, cut a few flowers for a shallow vase to fragrance the house.

May: Despite the rain that seems to have fallen incessantly since April, we had a fine, dry day for the most important day in my social calendar of 2012 which was also an important one for the Queen too. The Pageant of the Horse was held in the grounds of Windsor Castle and celebrated the Queen’s sixty year reign through her association with and love of horses. Horses, riders and other performers representing every country from around the world that the Queen has visited gave us a show that both we and she will never forget. It was a quite remarkable and memorable experience; apart from the showmanship and being so close to the Queen and Prince Philip, we had a private ‘Haka’ from the Cook Islanders when they noticed us still seated after the bulk of other visitors had left. Very exciting!

June: The Jubilee celebrations continued withthe River Pageant held in London on the Thames in pouring rain, this time. A much smaller river, the Coln, featured in a post ‘The Most Beautiful English Village’ about the exquisite Cotswold village of Bibury. With its clear, trout-filled waters fast running past ancient stone cottages, it is hardly surprising that it is protected by the National Trust and much visited by sightseers. It is said that visitors often don’t realise that it is not a living museum and sometimes walk into people’s private gardens or houses to be surprised to find the owners eating their lunch or watching television.

To read any of the posts mentioned above, just click on the links in green. July to December will appear soon.

Hedgerow History and a New Project

Posted on March 10, 2012 by johnshortlandwriter

One of the greatest and most picturesque, natural aspects of lowland Britain is its patchwork of fields divided by neatly clipped hedgerows. In hill country, or where there is a wealth of stone, the fields are divided by dry stone walls and the Cotswolds are renowned as much for these as for the limestone cottages and houses built of the same material. Here, domestic and farm buildings merge into one with the landscape for, as the fields were cleared of stone, it was natural to use it as a building material.

The overgrown hedge on the left; the drystone wall starts a little further up on the right of our little country lane

However, the Cotswolds also have their fare share of hedgerows and these often go unnoticed – overshadowed by the craftsmanship, colour and texture of the old walls. In the secret valley we are fortunate for we have both: outside our little cottage – also built of stone 160 years ago – one side of the lane is bordered by a hedge, the other a dry stone wall. At a glance, the hedgerow is unremarkable whereas the wall attracts attention for its weathered appearance and moss encrusted stones. But not all is as it seems.

The drystone wall was probably built only a couple of hundred years ago

The wall was probably built at the time of the great land enclosures, when large areas of England were partitioned, the ground cleared and ‘improved’ to grow crops (or here, in the Cotswolds, more likely wool) and may not be more than a couple of hundred years old – ‘new’ to us Brits. However the hedge, shabby and overgrown in places, could well be a relic of the ancient wildwood, the forest that once covered most of lowland Britain in the days of pre-history before man started cutting it down. ‘Our’ hedge would almost certainly have been part of the Wychwood Forest, a royal hunting ground, for written records go back to the time of the Domesday Book of 1086. As the forest was cleared (for more details click here) to make way for fields, it was easier to leave strips standing than to create new dividers.

In places, the hedgerow is barely recognisable for trees have grown to huge proportion

How do we know that it is an ancient hedgerow and not one planted at the time of the enclosures? There is an accepted formula for dating them known as Hooper’s Law: the number of tree and shrub species found in a thirty metre section x 100 is equal to the age of the hedge. It is normal practice to take three thirty metre sample lengths and apply an average for greater accuracy. There is also a second method of deciding if the hedge is of ancient origin: by the types of wild flowers that grow in it. Certain species are very slow to spread, or perhaps only would normally grow in certain conditions such as woodland shade. These key species are known as ancient woodland indicators and we have a number of them growing at the foot of our hedge.

Bluebells are an ancient woodland indicator. Here their new leaves emerge at the foot of the hedge – it will be several weeks before they flower

What is even more remarkable is that the plants tell us what is old and what is new hedge with such accuracy that it is possible to follow the old even after it has left the roadside. For our little lane that winds uphill as it leaves the secret valley to join the main road (‘Turnpike‘) is also part old and part new. Before the Turnpike was built in the late 1700’s, the lane beyond our house took a sharp turn left and crossed the fields, it’s way now marked only by sunken turf and yes, you’ve guessed it, also by the old hedge and its associated flora.

The ‘old’ road had been trodden for centuries by countless generations of drovers moving their cattle and sheep to market. It was probably still used after the opening of the turnpike in the late 1700’s to avoid paying the tolls

I always consider March to be the start of the gardening year, the month when nature turns its back on winter and spring moves rapidly forwards. Leaf buds burst, seedlings germinate and the first of the flowers remind you that long, hot days are not too far away. It is the same with the plants that are beyond our garden gate. And so on our first really warm, sunny day of 2012 I have decided to embark on a new project: to catalogue and photograph a year in the life of our hedge on a month by month basis. Watch this space!

In places, the ancient hedgerow is still tightly clipped and, over time, has become very wide