Tag: national trust

Winter vistas

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In places the original iron fence has been replaced by wood, then barbed wire simply rolled over the gaps that will keep everything out.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.

Mary Tebje2 Comments

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 In places the original iron fence has been replaced by wood, then barbed wire simply rolled over the gaps that will keep everything out.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.

Mary Tebje

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.

Snow in the Chilterns

Please sir, may we have some more?

We were treated to a beautiful dawn with streaks of pink slowly turning orange above the white Chiltern hills heralding a new day, and because we’d all been so good, the most brilliant of skies offset by the corduroy fields.

Mary Tebje

We’ve had some early, unexpected snow.

Herald difficult journey’s that, in spite of reading boastful council social media posts about the mountains of grit and new snow machinery, ready for what the winter will bring, the roads were eerily absent of both.

Snow is lovely, if you’ve nowhere in particular to get too and for a change, a very slow train journey out of London back home was rather pleasant. I watched as shopping centres, houses, roads, railings, trees, fields, cars and a castle, slipped from view as the landscape rapidly turned to black and white. Magical!

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Berkhamsted Castle

When I did finally get out into the great white outdoors, the familiar landscape was now filed with unfamiliar shapes, or no shapes at all. Ground meeting the sky meant a readjustment of senses; touch, sound and smell working hard. Boots crunching  underfoot, lungfuls of cold air, tingling fingers and a bad choice in socks.

One excited dog!

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The trees transformed play tricks and the deer and dog are aware of one another before I am, thankfully too far down the slope so no chance of a furious chase. A hungry blackbird pecks away beneath a tree in the gap between trunk and snow. Are frozen worms easy to detect? Little dollops of frozen snow and ice attached like cotton balls dotted on the bushes. Three red kites shooting the winter breeze.

Pitstone Windmill
Pitstone Windmill in a corduroy field

We were treated to a beautiful dawn with streaks of pink slowly turning orange above the white Chiltern hills heralding a new day, and because we’d all been so good, the most brilliant of sunset skies offset by the corduroy fields.

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Just before the rain came and washed it all away, the fields were full of footprints, lines and tracks, domestic and wild, like a battlefield of furious activity. The forlorn remains of melting snowmen, faces and buttons slipped off and lying on the ground. Dinner for a hungry deer?

For four intense days, the changed vista’s, opportunities to scream your lungs out as you fly down a snowy slope, fingers and toes frozen, dramatic skies and excited children remind me it’s so good to be alive!

Please sir, may we have some more?

Further Information:

For further Chilterns inspiration and adventures

Messing about on the River Thames

The Sweetest Stretch of the River

  ..”unbroken lovelines, this is, perhaps the sweetest stretch of all the river.”  Three Men in a Boat, Jerome K. Jerome.

Mary Tebje1 Comment

Itching to get away from my desk and take a walk to enjoy a warm autumnal afternoon, it was a tweet that spurred me into action to head over to Cliveden Reach, between Cookham and Boulter’s locks, the fabled stretch along the River Thames.

I have visited the formal gardens at Cliveden, but that is only a small part of the vast 375-acre estate on the banks of the River Thames. I struck out from the Woodland car park and was soon enjoying the magnificent lime-treed avenue that leads to Cliveden House, an ornate mansion that crowns an outlying Chilterns ridge by the hilltop village of Taplow, near the busy market town of Marlow. 40 metres above the river, Cliveden means “valley among cliffs” and refers to the dene (valley) which cuts through part of the estate, east of the house.  The site has been home to an earl, three countesses, two dukes, a Prince of Wales and the Viscounts Astor. And a particular scandal.

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Lime tree avenue

The woodlands were first laid out by Lord Orkney in the eighteenth century on what had been barren cliff-top; they were later much restocked by Bill Astor but suffered badly in the Great Storm of 1987, the same year a section of a California redwood was installed in the woods. At a modest 5.03 m across, it is the largest section of a Sequoia gigantea in the country.

The woodland is quiet, with paths leading off into the trees so I headed downhill towards the river along a steep footpath that had seen much use and repair over the years. I had to stop to enjoy the expansive views across the river to Berkshire, opening up each week as the leaf cover falls away.

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Looking west towards Berkshire

The river is busy with geese, swans, ducks and all manner of little birds, darting about in the foliage, the riverside path shady with overhanging trees, leaves drifting into the soft river mud.

 

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  ..”unbroken lovelines, this is, perhaps the sweetest stretch of all the river Thames.”  Three Men in a Boat, Jerome K. Jerome.

I passed the infamous Spring cottage, awarded Grade ll listed status in 1986 and in 1997 the hotel company which leased Cliveden House from the National Trust also acquired the lease to the cottage. A small fortune was spent restoring and refurbishing the dilapidated building before it reopened in 1998 as a self-contained luxury let. Luxurious it may be, but it is hardly private with the path passing within feet of the building, hampers and cottage life visible through the windows. One of four structures that was built in 1813, it saw many uses by the family and their guests, until in 1957, the cottage was leased by Stephen Ward for use as a weekend retreat and party house. Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice-Davis stayed here, with a chance encounter in 1961 between Christine Keeler and John Profumo at the now infamous Cliveden swimming pool, led to the so-called Profumo Affair that almost brought down a government.

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The path then opens up onto a sunny riverside lawn, with another cottage, boathouse, small jetty and 171 steps up to the Parterre in front of the house. No dogs allowed! I don’t mind, it’s more informal here, in fact a good place to spread out and relax on the lawn. The Victorian boathouse has undergone extensive repairs, and you can see recorded on the brick wall a the entrance, historical flood levels. Choose to cool off in the river, on the Thames or alongside.

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If it hadn’t been for this couple quietly enjoying the sweetest Thames view from their bench, I would have missed the best view of all!

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Further Information:

Visit the beautiful Rose Garden at Cliveden, although I expect it’s much changed from when I visited.

Autumn is my favourite time in the Chilterns, here are my suggestions for other places to explore in the Chilterns

For further information on what to see and do in the lovely Chilterns VisitChilterns.co.uk or to spend time on the water at Cliveden.

Short break escapes: relax and stay by the river at Ferry Cottage.

The home of a Celtic Tribal Chief

Sharpenhoe Clappers: what’s in a name?

Anonymous initials, an evocative place name and the ghost of a Celtic tribal chief? It seems fitting that such a place, whilst no longer occupied, still draws visitors who wish also to leave their mark, and a former first century tribal chieftain reputedly still there, marking his presence from the sky.

Mary Tebje3 Comments

I wonder how many of the declarations of love carved on the beechwood tree trunks, still hold true today?

Anonymous initials, an evocative place name and the ghost of a Celtic tribal chief? It seems fitting that such a place, whilst no longer occupied, still draws visitors who wish also to leave their mark, and a former first century tribal chieftain reputedly still there, marking his presence from the sky.

The landscape of the northern Chilterns is not beautiful in the traditional sense of the word: dramatic yes, tenacious even, as it stands out amidst intense agricultural activity, flight paths to and from Luton, intrusive road infrastructure, a burgeoning population in the crowded South East – yet ironically it was so quiet, I could hear a jet-washer being used in the hamlet below.

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Looking south towards London

Sharpenhoe Clappers is located in Bedfordshire to the north of London, in the parish of Streatley, sandwiched between the urban sprawls of Bedford, Dunstable, Luton and alongside the MI motorway. It is an oasis of big skies, wildflowers and a sense of calm.

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Orange-tipped butterfly

Classic Chilterns chalk escarpment, you could not find a better example. Protected as a Scheduled Ancient Monument for its prehistoric and medieval features,  that this would not however, be obvious if you visited; no interpretation and only a concrete obelisk to commemorate a local family and their sons who died in the First World War. There are numerous way-marked medium and long-distance trails criss-crossing the site, but they offer no clues either. Yet, such a prime topographical site could not have gone unused by the locals? The clues then, are in the name: Sharpenhoe Clappers.

Sharpenhoe means “sharp spur of land” which is an accurate description of the site and Clappers refer to the medieval rabbit warrens consisted of an enclosure surrounding one or more purpose-built breeding places known as pillow mounds or buries.

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Looking north, where the spur can be seen to the right

As I approached the site from the carpark, full of wagging tails and expectation, I decided to walk away from the hilltop and approach from the other side to get a sense of the lay of the land. To the south, the view of the hillfort is not as dramatic as the northern side where you can really appreciate the strategic position of this Iron Age promontory hillfort, now fringed by a ring of beechwoods, like a pudding-bowl haircut. Of the Clappers, I found no evidence.

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Avenue of beech trees

A mature beech wood, established in the 1840’s, now covers what would have been the interior of the fort, with gnarled and worn roots and beechnuts crunched underfoot. Around the fringes, lie decaying moss-covered tree-trunks and stumps, whilst the Dogs Mercury alongside, has colonised the floor of the ancient woodland.

The entire hilltop must be a favourite spot to declare your love by carving your initials into the tree trunks. I wonder how many of the locals have carved their names on the beechwood trunks? The initials indecipherable, but the years they declared their love are still visible; 1969, 1972, 1976, 1980 and 1984.

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With so many trunks to choose from, it’s no surprise they are all concentrated along the side where the view is not obscured by foliage on the slope below. I noticed too, offerings suspend from branches, like a ‘wishing tree’.

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Local legend tells of Cassivellaunus, the Celtic chieftain, who ruled the territory north of the River Thames, and led the native British tribes in opposition to Julius Caesar on his second expedition in 54 BC, haunts the site by cloaking the hilltop in cloud. Why the association with this location, is unclear, but I rather hoped he was there today as the show of clouds – not menacing nor dark – but light and playful against the backdrop of rapeseed, where impressive.

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Rapeseed under a Celtic sky

I have visited a number of Chiltern hill forts over the years  and have found each has a distinctive feel, not always immediately obvious; some broody, some with easy-to-spot landscape features and others needing a more active imagination to bring them alive. Sharpenhoe Clappers has the best name and still feels lived-in and loved by the locals.

Further Information:

I am proud that we have such wonderful links back to the past when our ancestors began colonising this area, and look forward to the outcomes of a new hill forts project that the Chilterns Conservation Board is undertaking that promises to reveal what lies beneath the benign Chilterns woodlands. The image below was shared in August 2018.

Chilterns Conversation Board's Hill forts project
Sharpenhoe Clappers, half in and half out of 1m res EA LiDAR. “It may be a hillfort, and it may not be – we hope the subtleties revealed by a 25cm survey, coupled with some further investigation and debate, may resolve the issue!” Dr Wendy Morrison. Photo credit: Environment Agency August 2018.

To find out more about visiting the Chilterns

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. Do trees fall uphill?

Here is a link to  three circular walks all local, with connections by train and car.

Explore the nearby beautiful Barton Hills

HellFire On a Hill

Hellfire on a Hill

The fire had been provided by a portable BBQ, that now lay discarded with accompanying beer bottles under a tree just behind the mausoleum. I am sure Sir Francis Dashwood, creator of all I could see, would have approved of the party, but not the litter.

Mary Tebje

The fire had been provided by a portable BBQ, that now lay discarded with accompanying beer bottles under a tree just behind the mausoleum. I am sure Sir Francis Dashwood, creator of all I could see, would have approved of the party, but not the litter.

Perhaps I was subconsciously drawn to West Wycombe hill that day, as Brad Pitt had been spotted in the area; the giveaway was a film set that included a downed WW2 airplane stuck nose-first into the side of the hill. Cue a Twitter frenzy followed by crushing disappointment as of course mere mortals were not allowed anywhere near!

The view towards West Wycombe house
Across the valley towards West Wycombe Park

Screen attraction

This distinctive landmark makes for a perfect scene-setter: West Wycombe Park is a place that has swirled with rumour, innuendo, and antics of the famous and infamous that would have put any Hollywood star to shame.  Located three miles west of High Wycombe, west of London, this fascinating place is home to a medieval high street, country seat, St Lawrence church, a mausoleum and Hell-Fire Caves attraction, all dominating the landscape by virtue of reputation and location atop the excavated, yet impressive Chilterns chalk outcrop.

All the legacy of the Dashwood family, whose Sir Francis Dashwood, 11th Baron le Despencer (1708 – 1781) was an English rake and politician, Chancellor of the Exchequer (1762–1763) and founder of the notorious Hellfire Club, along with the Earl of Sandwich, are alleged to have met at the George and Vulture Inn, (located in the City of London), throughout the 1730s before moving the club to Medmenham Abbey, a short distance from West Wycombe on the River Thames and then into the caves. The club was notorious for orgies and black magic, but had disbanded by 1763 (according to church records) with the caves falling into disuse.

Pagan Worship

Sir Francis was a very busy man; building roads, a fine country house, church, mausoleum, an elaborate cave system where he entertained, all using local materials hewn from the hillside (by the locals at a shilling a day), that legend has it has been inhabited since…well, forever. The church was named St Lawrence; a commonplace name for churches that supersede places of pagan worship. Retaining elements of its ‘sense of place’ as it includes a golden ball that rises above the tower with space for six Georgian party-goers inside. Saying their prayers?

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St Lawrence and the infamous golden ball atop the church tower.

The church is typically open on Sunday afternoons from March from 12.30 – 5.00pm until the end of September and is worth visiting. The churchyard is bursting with gravestones, many at strange angles as if the inhabitants have been moving around inside, some impressive columns to the fallen of the First and Second World Wars, and local families including the Joynson’s. They have prominent burials with one poignant inscription to their 16 year-old son William, who drowned whilst swimming in the Seine in Paris in 1865. The imaged journey home from Paris to West Wycombe in 1865 has stayed with me since my visit.

What does steal the show however, is the mausoleum that straddles the hilltop, still dominating the landscape after 250 years. Based on the design of the Constantine Arch in Rome, this unroofed structure is unlike anything else in the country. Built using excavated flints from deep inside the hill, still in the family ownership (unlike the rest of the estate that had to sold following the Wall Street Crash of ’29), this memorial to Sir Francis and his friends is in remarkable condition. Unlike the surrounds, which looked much used and abused; the fire provided by a portable BBQ, that now lay discarded with accompanying beer bottles under a tree just behind the mausoleum. I am sure Sir Francis, creator of all I could see, would have approved of the party, but not the litter.

Inside the Mausoleum

Founding Fathers

Benjamin Franklin, one of the founding fathers of America who helped to write the Declaration of Independence in 1776, was a great friend of Sir Francis Dashwood of West Wycombe Park and spent much time there in the early 1770s. He is reputed to have taken part in sessions of the notorious Hellfire Club and clearly found the surroundings of the house and park much to his liking as he wrote many times to his son. I do wonder what he took from this time here to contribute to co-writing the Declaration of Independence?

West Wycombe countryside
Surrounding Chilterns Countryside

Further information

Sir Francis transformed the formal garden at West Wycombe Park into a playground of Italian-inspired temples, water features and follies, arranged around an ornamental lake, with broad avenues with far-reaching views down the valley or across to the Dashwood Mausoleum. There are plenty of places to read a book, admire the views, watch the swans, or to daydream.

The great, the good and the not-so-good have all made their homes in the Chilterns. Many of their finest houses are now in the care of the National Trust. Make your own selection to plan your Grand Tour, with more than its fair share of opulence, interest and intrigue.

For further Chilterns eccentricity, read more stories here.

West Wycombe Village
Nuffield Place in the Chilterns

Nuffield Place is Typical of the Chilterns

The William Morris of the British Arts and Crafts Movement-fame casts a huge shadow on this William Morris who brought affordable motoring to Britain, and this is his story.

Mary Tebje1 Comment

Nuffield Place is typical of the Chilterns: modest, intriguing and tucked away in a beautiful place you have probably near heard of.

The William Morris of the British Arts and Crafts Movement-fame casts a huge shadow on this William Richard Morris, Viscount Nuffield who brought affordable motoring to Britain, and this is his story.

Born in 1877 in Worcester, William Morris moved with his family to Oxfordshire where his mother had been born and raised. Due to financial pressures, he had to leave school at an early ago to become apprenticed to a local cycle repair shop. A natural mechanic and ‘ a tinkerer of things” he saved £4 over a mere nine months and opened his own business repairing bicycles from a shed in his parents garden, labelling his product with a gilt cycle wheel and The Morris.

He met his wife Elizabeth Anstey whilst both members of the local cycling club. Despite going on a tandem-cycling holiday across some vast distance, they still decided to get married! They had no children.

Nuffield Place
Quietly understated

His stratospheric rise to the heights of motor car designer, manufacturer, wealthiest self-made industrialist of his age and philanthropist seems almost unreal as you wonder around his former home. A slightly shabby, down at heel 1930’s house, I was there for an altogether different reason: the launch of the Ridgeway Partnership that is taking a new look at how this ancient pathway is being promoted and used. Nuffield Place just happens to be en-route, tucked away in a secluded woodland above Henley-on-Thames. There is an ever-so-slightly unkempt feel here, which I love. No sharp edges, ropes and bossy signs. The gardens are full of wildflowers and so many foxgloves! A pair of kites wheeled lazily overhead, and I was tempted to get a game of croquet underway on the lawn.

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Interiors of Nuffield Place, include one very modest “BUD 650” Wolseley parked in a tiny garage.

Nuffield Place is typical of the Chilterns: modest, intriguing and tucked away in a beautiful place you have probably near heard of. Designed by Oswald Partridge Milne, this Arts and Crafts house was completed in 1914 and originally named Merrow Mount, which explains the ship on the weather vane. When Lord and Lady Nuffield purchased the house in 1933, they renamed it Nuffield Place after the nearby village. Refreshingly unpretentious, very personal and seems to have escaped being ‘done over’ to appeal to the historic house visitor demographic who needs tips on lifestyle enhancement and all-round heritage self-help. This is a recent acquisition by the National Trust and came very close to being sold, when at the 11th hour, Nuffield College (the college he founded), handed the house to the nation in 2011. We are grateful.

Inside Nuffield Place
Nuffield Place Interiors are surrounded by beautiful Foxgloves celebrate the gardens-edge with the surrounding woodland.

This great philanthropist who gave upwards of £600 million in today’s money to big medical research projects, also gave quite touching donations including buying a supply of wedding dresses that he kept in one of his shops, that wartime brides who, for whatever reason, could borrow to wear for their wartime wedding. There are still letters from these grateful couples who told of what would have been an otherwise drab day had been sprinkled with some much-needed glamour.

Overheard inside the house: ‘Everyone says it’s so modest…but it isn’t is it?”

Not much has changed from when they lived here and all sorts of personal touches are to be found on dressers, hangers, tables and beds; books including “Rheumatism and you – a handbook”, the ‘Book of Etiquette’ by Lady Troubridge and ‘The Scottish Terrier’ by D.A. Casperz. The ‘Cries of London’ picture series that shows the different street sellers, took me back to my childhood! I am not sure which two or three we had in our modest dining room, but am sure were only cheap prints compared to the entire wall-full of images hanging here.

The modest Wolseley parked at Nuffield Place
How refreshing!

There is no great car collection either, only a modest Wolseley in the garage, which he saw no reason to upgrade. His wife was a terrible driver, but we are not told of his driving skills, only that he didn’t much like the Morris Minor.

To the many volunteers who were working so hard in the gardens and inside the house, ready to share delightful stories, this special house would not be open without you – thank you!

Modest until the end

Morris remained in good health for a man who chain-smoked until four years before his death, but declined after the death of his wife in 1959. His ashes are buried beneath this modest stone near the door of Holy Trinity Church in Nuffield parish church, although he had almost no interest in religion. The bulk of his remaining estate, valued at over £3m in 1963 money, was given to Nuffield College.

His ashes were buried in Nuffield parish church
I almost stepped on this modest gravestone that lies near the church door of Holy Trinity Church in Nuffield.

Further Information:

Goblins Glen, Deadman’s Lane, Rotmoor Shaw and Drunken Bottom are some of the place names that surround beautiful Nuffield. A place rich in character and Chilterns history, and where we were to ‘Meet the Makers’ during the Chilterns Walking Festival. 

Described on TripAdvisor as ‘fresh as paint’ I was interested to see the nearby restored Maharajah’s Well in Stoke Row and discover why a 19th century Maharajah felt compelled to make such an extraordinary gesture to ensure a free, clean water supply to a small Chilterns community.

Naturally I recommend a visit, and if you are a NT member, the splendid Greys Court is nearby so can be enjoyed on the same day.

For information on opening times and location: and what else there is to explore and enjoy in the naturally outstanding Chilterns.

If enjoying usual and memorable places is your thing, then why not try these other quirky Chilterns destinations?

Natural History at its Victorian best

National History at its Victorian Best

Mary Tebje3 Comments

“Mama, Papa, I’m going to make a museum…”

The historic market town of Tring is a busy, growing commuter town within easy reach of London and within the Chilterns Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. Located on the original Akeman Street – a major Roman road in England that linked Watling Street with the Fosse Way, the Natural History Museum (NHM) Tring is in auspicious company. Built in 1889 to house one of the finest zoological collections in private hands, this in a museum frozen in time.

Just across the street are the picturesque Louisa Cottages Alms Houses on Akeman Street, built in 1893.

Inside the NHM Tring is a veritable feast of the exotic, elusive, exquisite, extinct and downright delightful exhibits from another age of museum-going. With not a gadget in sight, the slightly surreal setting of sturdy, floor-to-ceiling wooden display cases, drawers and fine cabinets that house thousands of stuffed exhibits that continue to entrance generations of local residents.

Circus fleas

The galleries are busy, bustling with families looking for items to capture on their trail sheets and clearly enjoying themselves. You don’t have to be five years old to qualify for the free trails, it’s a pleasure being able to potter. We saw the iconic Chilterns red kite and elusive kingfisher up close; delighted at the fruits of a busy mother’s labours as she sat up late at night dressing the fleas her children had caught from their pets, are on display next to exquisite moths and butterflies, to marvel at the 128-year old tortoise that lived with an assortment of animals (including kangaroos and an Emu), in nearby Tring Park.

On display is more than just stuffed animals though. It is a whole other value system in which our relationship with wild and domestic creatures was clearly very different: witness the display case of stuffed domestic dogs, a dodo and the famous Tring polar bear. We accept them as the animals were captured, slain and stuffed long ago, but I was surprised to see some dogs ‘donated’ as late as 1970. Perhaps not such a lost art after all?

“Mama, Papa, I’m going to make a museum…”

The museum founder, Lionel Walter Rothschild (1868 – 1937), second Baron Rothschild belonged to a rich and powerful family that influenced and shaped the local landscape (and seems once owned much of it), was a keen naturalist from an early age and collected all manor of exotic creatures which he brought back to his private museum in Tring. Famous for riding around town in a carriage pulled by a zebra, local response is not, unfortunately recorded, but I do wonder what they made of it all.

Natural History Museum, Tring
Armadillo, Natural History Museum, Tring

My son wanted to show me the Galapagos tortoise that Lord Rothschild once road upon, but I was too distracted by the dust on top of the display case to appreciate the size of the animal…I really must stop doing that. That said, this is no fusty-musty museum, some of the galleries have been overhauled to improve presentation and durability of the exhibits without detracting too much from what I really enjoy; a museum that is not trying to hard, knows its core product, doesn’t smell of fried food, nor does it break the budget – it’s free! What’s not to like?

Ideas for local places to visit and explore

For further information on visiting NHM Tring which is open all year round except from December 24 – 26th, there is also a regular programme of events and wildlife photography exhibitions.

The story of the Tring Tiles is so terribly brief, as not much is known about them, not even whether they were made in England, or in France.

For information on what else to explore and enjoy in the Chilterns