Don’t Be Put Off By Its Name…

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

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Polo – or how to put a hole in your mint

Cirencester, which is just outside the Cotswold country, is famous for being one of the most important English Roman towns, then known as Corinium. Now it is well known for Polo.

Not the round sweets Polo’s which are advertised as “the mint with the hole” but Polo, that mad game played on ponies.

Like most things associated with horses, Polo really does put a hole in your mint, eating away your money faster than anything. Despite being the sport of Princes and millionaires (who are the only ones that can afford it), it is remarkably accessible to us ordinary folk. You just turn up, pay to get in and watch.

Croquet at full gallop is the best way to describe the game, which is played by two teams of four players. The rules are rather complicated and I will leave you to look those up elsewhere.

So we found ourselves at Cirencester Park, on the edge of town, eating our picnic lunch on the warmest day for ages, hoping that we wouldn’t get trampled on when the ball came our way – which it seemed to do quite frequently.

Swarms of spectators running onto the playing area is an eccentricity of Polo. Carrying out the important task of divoting, or pushing the damaged turf back into the ground is part of the fun and a good way for all to participate. Toddlers and dogs, elderly ladies in twinsets and pearls as well as the rest of us hoi-polloi mix in frenzy of activity. Quite mad!

What Barney would make of it all, I cannot imagine. He is my Irish Draught hunter, a huge 17 hands 3″ unlike the polo ponies that are small and sure footed. Barney’s picture has joined the family portraits on the right hand side of the page. More about him another time….
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