An Appreciation of Aylesbury

At first drive-through, this busy Buckinghamshire town is not a pretty sight. Aylesbury is town that has kept it’s historic heart well and truly hidden, marooned on a little island cut off by busy roads full of traffic rushing through on their way elsewhere.

Perhaps you are familiar with Aylesbury because of its association with ducks? Not as obvious is its historic association with the nearby Chilterns as this town played an important role  in the English Civil War, very much in support of the Parliamentarians against Charles I and presents one of the most visible links with the Chilterns due to its proximity to Great Hampden, home of John Hampden: his silhouette on the emblem used by the district council and his statue prominent in the market square. 

A town that has grown too quickly, concrete, traffic and ugly shopping centres are the hazards to be navigated before finding the charming Georgian old town.

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The Kings Head Farmers Bar

A way in, is through an easy-to-miss arch that leads from Market Street into the restored 15th medieval coach inn yard of the Kings Head inn, busy serving food and beverages since around 1455 no less. Now owned by the National Trust, the popular Farmers’ Bar within the King’s Head site has been run by the Chiltern Brewery since 2005. Follow the cobbled passageway into the courtyard that dates back to the early 14th century when it was the original busy market square.

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The enclosure of the quiet courtyard with additional stables to the one at the rear once provided stabling for nearly thirty horses, hard to imagine now.

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St Mary the Virgin

The old town centre is a crowded cluster of cottages in just a few narrow, largely car-free streets that surround the churchyard of St Mary the Virgin whose ornate clock tower dominates this skyline.

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Many of these dwellings are in fact almshouses, administered by the Thomas Hickman Charity. Founded in 1698, the charity works to support the people of Aylesbury and aims to benefit those in a similar state of need.

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St Mary’s Square

To say these lanes are a delightful surprise is an understatement! A pretty church square with beautiful trees and lopsided headstones are from another age. These multiple small terraced houses or apartments providing accommodation for small numbers of residents can be found all over England, the Netherlands and Norway. Established from the 10th century, the first recorded almshouse in England was founded in York by King Athelstan with many of the medieval almshouses established with the aim of benefiting the soul of the founder or their family. As a result, most were regarded as chantries (saying prayers for the soul of the benefactor to speed their way to heaven), and were dissolved during the Reformation, under an act of 1547.

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The rebuilt 1871 almshouses on Church Street with distinctive Neo-Tudor chimneys

There have been almshouses in Aylesbury since before the 12th century and the provision for assisting the poor typically came from the church, local hospitals and various private benefactors. By the late 17th century, demand grew, due to increased migration from the countryside that continued to put pressure on the Aylesbury parish. It was during this time, that the Thomas Hickman charity was founded, along with other new almshouses including; the Weeden almshouse in Chesham, the Drake almshouses in Amersham and Lady Dodds cottages in Ellesborough and the even older Ewelme Almshouse Charity in Ewelme amongst others (blog post follows).

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A variety of styles along Church Street

These simple dwellings provided space for one person to live in a single room – normally as part of group that stipulated how many where intended for men and how many for women, all of whom received an allowance, or pension that could be money and goods, such as kindling. The Thomas Hickman houses did not follow this pattern and you can enjoy the many sizes and styles alongside one another, that reflect that there is unusually no prescribed limit on the number of occupants, normally one per dwelling.

It is remarkable that such an old welfare system still survives today, is testament to it’s valued place in building communities and giving recipients independence and dignity with a stimulating and beautiful environment that hasn’t suffered the same fate as the rest of the town.

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No8. Church Street ‘the Chantry’.
Further Information:

Various information signs indicate a trail, but I didn’t follow it. Worth the effort I’d say, once past all the concrete to explore this oasis and I will be popping back to wander these calm streets and visit the Bucks County museum.

“The white Aylesbury duck is a universal favourite. Its snowy plumage and comfortable comportment make it a credit to the poultry-yard, while its broad, deep breast and ample back, convey the assurance that your satisfaction will not cease at its death. ”—Isabella Beeton, Mrs Beeton’s Book of Household Management, 1861

You can still buy Aylesbury ducks from the last breeder, Richard Waller, whose family has been breeding them since 1745.

The Thomas Hickman Charity, A Tercentenary History (author Hugh Hanley) is an interesting accompaniment to this feature.

Bucks County Museum is worth a visit and is open throughout the year.

To enjoy Chiltern Brewery finest beer and ale, visit the Kings Head pub.

For more Chilterns ideas and inspiration VisitChilterns.co.uk

Reclaiming our Castles

Nooks, brick tiles and a fireplace survive, their purpose clear, but place in amongst the lumps of stone unclear. Earthworks and a moat surround the site including an extensive embankment upon which the West Midlands railway service thunders, this place a microcosm of English history; 

Seen mostly from commuter trains, I expect this castle is one of those landmarks that is just no longer noticed. A scheduled ancient monument, the castle had a lucky escape – not from French siege engines, but from those bringing a new prosperity to the Chilterns countryside.  

My straw pole revealed a distant lack of awareness too, when asked when was the last time they had visited Berkhamsted castle? 

“Not for ages”

“Never”

“Where is it?”

Situated alongside the canal and railway in the busy market town of Berkhamsted in the northern Chilterns, the castle and it’s features seem only to emerge from the surrounding landscape if you look long and hard. The mound is covered in pretty spring flowers, the scene so benign. The elevated motte and keep, and if the badgers haven’t ripped up the turf looking for juicy earthworms, you could imagine the many wooden buildings inside a protective curtain, or bailey, offering protection to the occupants.

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Not much use now!

Nooks, brick tiles and fireplace survive, their purpose clear, but place in amongst the lumps of stone unclear. Earthworks and a moat surround the site including an extensive embankment upon which the West Midlands railway service thunders, this place a microcosm of English history; 

Anglo-Saxon backwater

Norman Invasion & Oppression

Royal entitlement & civil war

Invasion & royal prison

Decline & Vandalism

Near destruction and declaration as ancient monument

Visitor attraction

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The moat filled with spring rain
William the Conqueror

This is where William the Conqueror received the submission of the English after the Battle of Hastings and it was his half-brother, Robert of Mortain, who built a timber castle around 1070. Built in the classic Norman motte-and-bailey style, with defensive conical mound and oval bailey below, the castle formed part of the Conquerors ‘ring of steel’ around the capital (along with Wallingford and Windsor Castles to the west, and the White Tower to the east), controlling trade routes and ensuring successful subjugation of the locals. 

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Lots of stones to recycle

The castle saw action in the Middle Ages; invasion by the French, civil war and in more settled times as royal residence, but slid into a slow decline of unsuitability and by default became unfashionable. The fortunes of Berkhamsted are closely linked to its castle which, when it waned and fell into disuse in the 15th century, stone was taken and reused to build houses and buildings in the town, greatly affected by this change in its status and prosperity. It was a long wait until the arrival of the inland waterways and railway in the 19th century before the locals enjoyed a revival.

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Moody and atmospheric

Now a scheduled ancient monument, protected by law, the castle had a lucky escape. Victorian railway designers sought to build the London to Birmingham Railway directly through the site, but was saved by strong local opposition. The Act of Parliament that authorised the construction of the railway also protected the castle making it the first such property to be protected by law. We have not always so proactive in protecting our heritage however, as landowners once believed they had the absolute right to destroy their properties and the notion the state could stop someone doing whatever they wanted to their own property was seen as ridiculous at the time. That Britain’s heritage was worth preserving was a belief held by weirdos, but thankfully for us, after witnessing so much mindless destruction, MP’s and heritage pioneers became determined to act.

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Berkhamsted railway station in 1838, castle to the left and canal to the right:                           George Dodgson Callow & Edward Radclyffe (1809–1863)

Incredible to even consider now the destruction of our heritage in the name of progress. Or in the case of spite, as was the story of the infamous Reverend Francis Gastrell, one-time owner of New Place, William Shakespeare’s final home in Stratford-upon-Avon. He bought the house in 1753 but “quickly got irritated with tourists wanting to see it”, says architectural historian Gavin Stamp. Gastrell was already in the town’s bad books after chopping down a mulberry tree planted by Shakespeare, then in an extraordinary fit of spite, demolished the house in 1759. It was never rebuilt and only the foundations remain. Suffice to say he was kicked out of town!

Arial view of the site taken in the 1940's.
Arial view of the site taken in the 1940’s.                                                                  Image supplied by Britain from Above archive.

I think we need to reclaim and treasure our Chilterns’s castles; visit them, explore them, take a picnic, take your family to play dungeons and dragons, take your dog. Watch as they reflect the changing seasons through the windows of your train, and celebrate the spaces and possibilities those heritage weirdos have left for us.

A local pharmaceutical firm has donated three acres (1.2 hectares) to the new Berkhamsted Castle Trust, plus £25,000 to maintain this “national asset”, with work to “make it a coherent site again” underway.  Read more here

Further Information:

Admission is free to the site that is now managed by English Heritage.

For further Chilterns inspiration visit https://www.visitchilterns.co.uk

Read the astonishing story of a wild boy without a birth name, who was found in a German forest and adopted by a English king and came to live in nearby Northchurch.

The Grande Dame of Ewelme

Every village needs a chalk stream flowing through it, a manor house, old rectory, almshouses, red-brick school and well-stocked village shop. And a good ghost story.

How many parishes can boast a “grande dame” who has the finest alabaster tomb in the village? The village of Ewelme fits the bill.

On the Swyncombe road about a mile outside the village of Ewelme is where I stopped to take a deep breath and familiarise myself with the lay of the land. The last time I was here was to visit St Botolph’s, three miles up the lane in the direction two casually-peddling Lycra-free cyclists were heading. It’s a good sign!

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The winding road to Swyncombe

I picked my along the path before settling on a rotten tree trunk that offered respite from the sticky mud. A rabbit dart beneath the hedgerow, it must have seen the two lazily circling kites overhead. A weedy line of smoke from a farmhouse rises from a small fire further up the valley and only a low-flying aeroplane just taking off from nearby RAF Benson is competing with the spring birdsong.

The English countryside: managed or manicured, everything in it’s place, but that’s not to say without beauty, it’s how you see it that counts. Symmetry, patterns, parallel lines, even the turn of the plough creates its own pattern picked out by the sunlight. Little dabs of lime green growth in the hedgerows contrasts with the emerald green of the field behind. Even the vapour trails add their dotted and dashed pattern to the perfect blue sky. I am buzzed by an enormous bumblebee, circling my  muddy shoes.

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Every village needs a chalk stream flowing through it, a manor house, old rectory, almshouses, red-brick school and well-stocked village shop. And a good ghost story.

Ewelme is located north east of the market town of Wallingford, nestled in a green dip, with narrow lanes and pretty cottages tumbling down the hillside to congregate along now defunct watercress beds fed by the Ewelme Brook, that eventually makes its meandering way to the River Thames. Production has sadly ceased (cress can still be bought and enjoyed in the Chess Valley), but now these beds are owned and managed by the Chiltern Society who organise events here in the reserve.

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The old ‘cress beds

If you like medieval villages, there is plenty to satisfy you here: lots of typical Chilterns brick and flint and crooked doorways, well-tendered gardens bursting with flowers, the 15th century cloistered almshouses and modest school; but the real gem is the lovely church of St Mary the Virgin that commands the village heights with a 14th century tower that can be seen from almost anywhere above walls and rooftops.

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Much has been written about this church, it’s memorials, tombs and occupants that can still be seen today thanks to some quick thinking by local Civil War army commander Colonel Francis Martyn, who refused to give up the key to the church and the  Roundheads who surprisingly obeyed, left the church unscathed.

How many parishes can boast a “grande dame” who has the finest alabaster tomb in the village?

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Alice de la Pole, Duchess of Suffolk and patron of the church
The must-have tomb

The reason everyone visits is to gaze at the rather splendid tomb of Alice de la Pole, Duchess of Suffolk and patron of the church who died in 1475 aged 71. We remember her not only for her status, wealth, influence, three husbands, family connections and rare recipient of the Order of the Garter, but because she and her husband gave Ewelme its (rebuilt) church, new superior grammar school and almshouses. She also happened to be the granddaughter of the poet Geoffrey Chaucer, and her father, Thomas Chaucer was lord of the Manor of Ewelme and governor of Wallingford Castle. The side chapel where she is buried has a curious array of church furnishings that include the original medieval floor tiles, a gaudy turn-of-the-century alter piece adorned with English saints, the sole surviving medieval seat and fabulous IHS monogrammed walls. The tomb dominates the space in a style and manner usually reserved for a Knight and his Lady. She is buried alone as her third husband suffered a ghastly traitors fate and is buried in Suffolk, so she had to make do with adoring cherubs instead. Arranged over three levels, from the most elaborate and celebratory at the top to the realistic effigy of the occupant in her funeral shroud at the bottom.

Too many village churches are nothing but disappointment and dust, sanitised by the Victorians who liked to clean up the mess and paint over the unsightly to better suit their view of the world. But here you have a medieval complex that has seen continuous use for about 600 years, from childhood through to death, and I am certain, watched over by the community who take great pride in their heritage, it will cope with the pressures and fancies of the next 600 years.

Out through the west door, leads you into the pretty cloister around which the 14th century almshouses residents live, which in turn lead into the compact school grounds that makes for a magical medieval complex. The school has outgrown the red brick building and has extended it’s classrooms discreetly behind another brick wall to the rear.

In the village store, opposite Kings Pool, I enjoyed coffee and a tasty sandwich and chatted with a bloke who had an interesting collection of old-school camera’s, and wondered if there was any truth to the legend that a lady-in-waiting had in fact pushed King Henry Vlll in!

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Ewelme Store

As for the ghost stories, we’ll save those for another day, as you’ll hear tell of fairies and a witches curse too. Please leave your car in the car park at the entrance to the village and explore on foot.

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For more Chilterns inspiration and ideas

Lacey Green Windmill

The 300-year old Lacey Green Windmill stands on the escarpment of the Chiltern Hills, near Princes Risborough, and is possibly the most famous for being England’s oldest smock mill.

Landscape plays a huge role in determining the form and function of buildings, not least windmills. The reasons they were built may be long gone, in street names for example, or how some mills still command the landscape, the location purposefully chosen for exposure to the elements.

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The huge Lacey Green sails still turn
Local Landscape

The Chilterns are particularly well endowed with mills situated near inland waterways, in busy market towns or on a windy bluff that once provided particular services to local communities that farmed grains to be milled or silk to be spun. Many are now only remembered in archives, others have found new purpose and functions as homes and offices, whilst the best have been lovingly and painstakingly restored by enthusiastic volunteers and can be visited at certain times of the year, not least of all during National Mills weekend that takes place during May each year.

The 300-year old Lacey Green Windmill stands on the escarpment of the Chiltern Hills, near Princes Risborough, and is possibly the most famous for being England’s oldest smock mill, with wooden machinery dating from around 1650. Originally built at Chesham it was moved the 24 miles to Lacey Green in 1821 by order of the Duke of Buckingham. Why I wonder? Following years of service in the Steel, Woods and Cheshire milling families, it was used as a holiday cottage, Home Guard lookout post and finally a shop before being left to slowly crumble and fall into a perilous state.

From 1971 however, it has been restored to working order by members of the Chiltern Society. Now mills are complicated things; full of cogs, wheels, pulleys, chutes, bins, caps and sails, and there’s absolutely no point in my laboured writing trying to explain how it all works – best to visit and have someone who knows all about them tell you first hand. We enjoyed eves-dropping on those conversations, but too often of a technical nature, we were happy to marvel at the skilled workmanship that it took to design, build, work in and then restore such a engineering marvel.

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Tools and tackle left behind by those who once worked on the site
Further Information:

The mills of the Chilterns are an iconic landscape feature, and I find myself spotting them as I travel around the region; Tring, Cobstone, Pitstone and Cholesbury windmills, Redbournbury, Pann and Ford End watermill’s.

The way-marked circular 134-mile Chiltern Way trail passes through Loosley Row and Lacey Green, and takes in the nearby Whiteleaf chalk cross, mysteriously etched into the hillside above Princes Risborough. Surrounded by Stone Age Barrows, it’s a lovely spot for a picnic with far-reaching Vale of Aylesbury views to be enjoyed.

Lacey Green windmill is open only thanks to volunteers, so please check the website before planning your visit. Access is along a track beside the Whip Inn on the high street. Check out the Chilterns website too, as there is a lot else to explore nearby.

Making Memories

“Peter, the Wild Man from Hanover. Whoever will bring him to Mr Fenn at Berkhamsted, Hertfordshire, shall be paid for their trouble’. 

“Peter, the Wild Man from Hanover. Whoever will bring him to Mr Fenn at Berkhamsted, Hertfordshire, shall be paid for their trouble’.

Why are some people remembered whilst countless others never will be? Is it noble birth or notoriety? Or do memories attach themselves along the often invisible threads that bind and weave together the history and stories of the Chilterns, making it the special place it is today? It is after all, the people and places who shape and are shaped by their location that determine its history.

This is the second instalment of the fascinating story of Peter, one time resident of Northchurch who lived until he was around 70 years, but the label ‘Wild Boy’ has stuck. You can read about his life in this earlier blog post, and following a visit to Berkhamsted School, what I found there warrants further telling of his story.

Typically, historical events are remembered, celebrated even, by those on the winning side, so why, I wonder is Peter still remembered? His whole life was tenuous, he had no connections, no skills, no way to communicate, no family nor children and he lived by his wits and kindness of strangers. When he was found as a boy, it is said that the only remnants of a ‘civilised’ life where the remains of his shirt collar, which ironically, it is now a collar by which he best remembered: the collar that was crafted for him to wear to ensure that if he wandered off, he would be returned to his home at Fenn Farm.

I was surprised at how small the collar is, and don’t believe it was worn by Peter as an adult. Perhaps as a man, his wondering days were behind him?

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The label on the right is roughly the size of a business card, so gives you  idea of the collars size. With permission from Berkhamsted School

“Peter, the Wild Man from Hanover. Whoever will bring him to Mr Fenn at Berkhamsted, Hertfordshire, shall be paid for their trouble’. I believe one shilling was the reward.

By our values, this may seem cruel to put a collar on a human, but to me, it must have been an act of kindness and concern for his safekeeping, especially after his epic 100-mile solo adventure to Norwich, where after being jailed, it took some time to return him home to Northchurch. It was because of his wonderings that the king was petitioned for an increase in the £30 annual pension granted for the maintenance of Peter, in view of the expense of advertising for and organising his return when he wandered far from home. It is not recorded if the petition was successful. The Crown paid Peter’s pension until his death in 1785.

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The Petition by James Fenn c.1752.  With permission from Berkhamsted School

How the collar has even survived 233 years is also a mystery. Hanging for years on the wall of a house in Northchurch, then it was back and forth between the Bridgewater family at Ashridge House, the Northchurch Society and then to Berkhamsted school. There are many letters in the archive to document its transfer, and the cost to insure the collar was a sticking point. Insured for £1,000 by the Northchurch Society in 1981, the annual premium at £15 became too much. “There are so many dates thrown into the mix, I don’t suppose we’ll ever know the reason it left the farm where Peter lived” explained Lesley, “or how long it was kept at Ashridge House and elsewhere. Time travel would be grand in my job!”

Peter was five feet two inches tall and apart from the webbing between two of his fingers, there was nothing to indicate that he suffered from the rare genetic disorder known as Pitt-Hopkins Syndrome. I love that a wax effigy was made of him that would be viewed in a wax museum on the Strand in London – pre Marie Tussaud’s as she only set up her first permanent waxworks in 1835.

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By permission of  Berkhamsted School

It is not clear exactly how the collar ended up in the school archive along with the above mentioned petition and other items, but it could have been as a result of the Brownlow family estate being broken up and the items given to the school for safe custody.

Peter’s collar returned to the Royal court for a year in 2014 when it was loaned to Kensington Palace to be included in their ‘Glorious George’s Exhibition’ and Lucy Worsley, historian, broadcaster and curator took a keen interest in Peter and visited the school and his grave site at St Mary’s church. I expect there was pressure to keep the artefact at the Palace, but am delighted it is back where it belongs, in the Chilterns.

It is thanks to those at the bottom of the pile, who should be given just as much airtime as those at the top, for it is the former upon whom the latter builds power and status, but that doesn’t make their contribution any less. This is a unique story, of a man who survived against the odds, and it was this notoriety that has ensured his memory is alive and well.  To those who still leave flowers on Peter’s grave, I salute you!

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Keeping the tradition alive! By permission of  Berkhamsted School

I would like to thank Lesley Koulouris, archivist at Berkhamsted School who was very generous with her time and vast knowledge and who gave permission to reproduce these items included above.

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Berkhamsted school is to the rear of St Peter’s Church, on Castle street, Berkhamsted.

Berkhamsted school participates in the Heritage Open Days festival in September each year, and the school opens the chapel and ‘Old Hall’, both worth exploring.

For further Chilterns inspiration and ideas.

Do Trees Fall Uphill?

In places the original iron fence has been replaced by wood, then barbed wire simply rolled over the gaps that will keep everything out. Or in. The contrast between the carefully managed fields and the disarray and upheaval behind me couldn’t be greater. The former almost lifeless, the latter bursting with life.

I love the wide open winter vistas that reveal unexpected views and spaces, the shadows long, and a raw winter wind causes the bare tree tops to clatter and scratch against one another, loud on the otherwise still hillside.

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The younger trees sway about like drunk patrons, crashing into one another

What looked like the aftermath of a great disturbance with piles of flint, up-ended trees, mounds of excavated chalk and the biggest wall of roots I’d ever seen awaited us as we headed off-piste to follow the animal trails that branch off the well-trodden Ashridge Forest Sunday paths. The Ashridge estate is huge, with over 5,000 acres of woodlands and the many visitors tending to huddle near the toilets, cafe and carpark, the chances are always good you’ll have the other 4,999 acres pretty much to yourself.

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Heading downhill through the trees, it’s only as the track became even narrower and I have to watch where I am walking, that I notice the toppled trees interspersed with tightly-packed new growth, enjoying a few years of space before they are muscled out. These upended beeches, all pointing uphill, whilst the oaks, needing space have jumped the fence and taken root in the field alongside.

The oaks needs space to stretch out and breath
The oaks need space to stretch and breath

This scene of furious activity by nature’s hand, not human, looks surreal; big pieces of scattered flint, stones, numerous piles of chalk excavated by badgers as they enlarge their extensive hillside homes, even trees turning to dust. The leaf litter is still thick, and covers ankle-twisting holes and rocks, and still the barely visible track leads on along the edge of the tree line, very straight, there is no mistaking the intention of this boundary. In places the original iron fence has been replaced by wood, then barbed wire simply rolled over the gaps that will keep everything out. Or in. The contrast between the carefully managed fields and the disarray and upheaval behind me couldn’t be greater. The former almost lifeless, the latter bursting with life.

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A mound of excavated chalk, stones and flint mark the entrance to a den

Wide open winter vistas revealing the unexpected view back down the valley rising up to Wiggington and Wendover. This seasonal sight will close up, like a theatre curtain draws over the view as the trees spring back into life. A crow hangs lazily on the wind.

The dog is spooked by something, so scrambles onto a log, growling and begins to bark. Having dull senses, I cannot hear nor smell as he can, when suddenly, the hillside comes alive as a small herd of deer crash through the trees, in flight from an excited barking dog, The deer however, have the upper hand, they know all the tracks and escape routes and they sweep past us, twice. I bet they know this is a Sunday morning, their least favourite day of the week!

Next up on the weirdness scale, a wall of roots and stones, at least 10 foot in circumference, that shields a well-trampled clearing, a good spot for the deer? What forces were at work to upend such a large tree, revealing this stoney underworld apron?

The aerated soil is crunchy underfoot, a mix of pebbles, beechnuts, and twigs. We pass a large saw pit, criss-crossed with bike tracks as we follow a well-used single track uphill. The vegetation on this sunny slope quickly changes from the stark to timid signs of the first primroses and what will be another grand display of bluebells in April or May, as their tiny leaves break through the leaf cover.

Do trees only fall uphill? From my unscientific study, I’d say yes they do. However, I was delighted to see that here and there, rebel trees had thrown themselves onto the fence downhill, in some places crushing it flat beneath their weight. Result!

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The one that got away!

Voices carry on the wind and I know it’s time to head home.

Further Information:

For further Chilterns inspiration and ideas and to visit the Ashridge Estate

Chilterns A to Z

Get to know the ghosts, they all have a story to tell.

Get to know the ghosts, they have a story to tell.

Up and down the land, there are ‘something for everyone’ high streets, towns, heritage parks, historic houses, districts and destinations.

What if you could tell your community and networks the story of your local area? As interpreted by you? Seen through your eyes? The only rules are the celebration of the magnificent and mundane, remembering that what is incidental detail to you, will be new and refreshing to someone else. It’s what sets a place apart from all the rest, it helps customers make decisions about where to visit as your location becomes distinctive and intriguing.

I have put together my first A to Z of the Chilterns, which wasn’t easy, there is simply too much information to include.

A is for Amersham Museum, Aldbury Nowers and the Adonis Blue..

B is for bodgers, bluebells and Bledlow Cross…

C is for Chenies Manor, chalk, castles and Chequers

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This will, without a doubt, change and evolve, as I add more columns, fill it with images and the names of things still to be discovered.

I have plans for posters.

Why not give it a go? If you do, please let me know as would love to share it.

Peter the Wild Boy

How a wild boy without a birth name, who was found in a German forest, was adopted by a English king and came to live in the #Chilterns, is an astonishing story.

This is a remarkable story in two parts

Just how a wild boy without a birth name, was found in a German forest, adopted by a English king and came to live in the Chilterns, is just an astonishing story.

Whilst on a hunting trip during a visit to his home, King George l, who was also ruler of the Duchy and Electorate of Brunswick-Lüneburg Hanover, came across a feral boy who got about on all fours. Of unknown age or parentage, he was said to “exhibit uncivilised behaviour’ and was unable to communicate. He had survived by scavenging what forest food he could find, and from the remains of a shirt collar around his neck, had been in the care of someone.

London

He was given the name “Peter’ and brought to London in 1726 by the King’s daughter-in-law, Caroline of Ansbach, Princes of Wales. Peter experienced minor celebrity for a while, but after the public curiosity began to subside, Caroline Princess of Wales arranged for a Dr Arbuthnot to oversee Peter’s education, however all efforts to teach him to speak, read or write failed.

Peter was then entrusted to the care of Mrs Titchbourn, a close friend of the Queen’s, along with a handsome annual pension of £35. Mrs. Titchbourn usually spent a few weeks every summer at the house of Mr James Fenn, a yeoman farmer at Axter’s End, in the parish of Northchurch, which is how he came to live in the Chilterns. After the death of James Fenn he was transferred to the care of James’s brother, Thomas, and is where Peter lived with the several successive tenants of that farm until his death in 1785.

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Detail of a court painting by William Kent in Kensington Palace

The interior designer and painter William Kent included a depiction of Peter in a large painting of King George I’s court that today hangs on the east wall of the King’s Staircase at Kensington Palace in London. Peter is shown wearing a green coat and holding oak leaves and acorns in his right hand.

Moving to the Chilterns

In the late summer of 1751 Peter went missing from Broadway Farm and could not be traced. Advertisements were placed in newspapers offering a reward for his safe return. On 22 October 1751 a fire broke out in the parish of St Andrew’s in Norwich and as the fire spread, the local gaol became engulfed in smoke and flames. The frightened inmates were hastily released and one aroused considerable curiosity on account of his remarkable appearance and the nature of the sounds he made, which led some to describe him as an orangutan. Some days later he was identified as Peter the Wild Boy, possibly through a description of him in the London Evening Post. He was returned to Thomas Fenn’s farm, and had a special leather collar with his name and address made for him to wear, should he ever stray again.

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Peter The Wild Boy born c. 1713 and died 22nd February 1785

Peter died on 22nd February 1785 and is buried in the churchyard of St Mary’s Church, Northchurch. The headstone is engulfed by the large bush, so look carefully directly opposite the main door to the church and you will see it. In 2013, on the advice of English Heritage, the grave was given the Grade II listing it deserves. Inside the church is a commemorative plaque.

No matter how many times I hear this story, I still find it incredible that not only was Peter the Wild Boy found by a king in Germany and given a home in another country, but that his story has survived at all. Long may we share and celebrate it.

Peter is now believed to have suffered from the rare genetic disorder known as Pitt-Hopkins Syndrome, a condition identified in 1978, nearly 200 years after Peter’s death.

Part 2: Berkhamsted School

The leather and brass collar designed to identify Peter in case he should wander away from the village and inscribed “Peter the Wild Man” is preserved at Berkhamsted School. I have updated and added to this post following a visit to the school to see the archive, you can read it here.

Further Information

For further Chilterns adventures and inspiration or to explore Berkhamsted Castle.

There are plenty more astonishing stories of Chilterns residents past and present, take a look here.