Stubbs would have grouped the horses more artistically

Sunday was a “Heritage Open Day” which is when buildings normally closed to the public open their doors for an afternoon. All sorts of places, that normally you would struggle to get into, become available (I think there’s a requirement for listed buildings receiving grants from the government to open to the public occasionally). The problem is deciding which one to choose, especially as different buildings open on different years, so it could be quite a while before a particular place can be seen again (unless you go through the rigmarole of writing for a formal appointment to view, and then you turn up and get treated like an official inspector from English Heritage).



Above: Anyway, I decided to go to the south western part of the uplands. The escarpment at this point is much more gentle (but you still go up quite a rate in a short distance). There was hardly any traffic on the roads.



Above: Once up on the top there was an undulating landscape of cornfields alternating with paddocks. I stopped to look at the map and take a photo of this equestrian scene (Stubbs would have grouped the horses more artistically). The day had become extremely hot and sunny – the hottest September day since 1949.



Above: Eventually (after a couple of wrong turnings) I came to a small village and had to double-back twice before I found Old Church Lane. This road was hardly more than a track. Driving down it for a quarter of a mile I came to a hand-made sign saying “Car Park” and turned into a grass field where I parked next to three other cars. Continuing down the track on foot, the way curved ahead of me mysteriously – although I knew a redundant church was down there somewhere, I had no idea what it would look like. The heat (after my air-conditioned car) was enervating. Insects filled the air (dragonflies, horseflies, midges).



Above: The hedgerows opened up into a clearing, and the small church came into view, declared redundant when the Victorians built a new church (a livid red building) on higher ground in the centre of the present village. Pevsner says that the old church had originally been medieval but rebuilt in the 18th century (you can see that the brick walls rest upon stone foundations). The land around the building was subject to regular flooding so in the nineteenth century the village had moved to higher ground, the new church had been built and the old one abandoned.



Above: Inside it was light and airy, painted white, completely empty apart from some bulbous Communion railings (although the building was redundant it was still consecrated). The windows were clear glass protected by mesh, presumably to prevent intruders since the place was so remote. Two Purple Emperor butterflies (http://www.bbc.co.uk/nature/wildfacts/factfiles/405.shtml) fluttered about, trying to find their way out.



Above: I walked back down the track. Opposite the field where I parked my car was a lesser track leading to Old Church Farm. A small poster announced that teas were available with an exhibition of “bygones”. I went down to the farmhouse and a very well-spoken lady came out and asked if I wanted a cup of tea, indicating that I should sit at one of the small tables set up in the farmyard. No-one else was about. I sat down and looked around – the farmyard was remarkably neat and tidy, with tubs of flowers, picturesque barns, pretty views into the surrounding fields.

The lady returned with my cup of tea (cost 50p):

“We’ve been here four years” she explained. “When my husband retired we looked about for our dream home and we found this. It’s perfect.”

Although she and her husband were “retired” they only looked in their late fifties. Even though they were now “farmers” they didn’t need to make the establishment pay economically. They were restoring the house and barns to their Victorian appearance. They had conserved and extended the hedgerows around all the fields (in a scheme in partnership with English Nature). They were stocking up on rare-breed farm animals. They were commissioning an archaeological survey (in partnership with English Heritage) of the deserted village around the redundant church. They cut the grass around the redundant church and provided a guide service to visitors tracing their ancestors among the old tombstones. They researched the history of the deserted settlement. Their dream was to track down all the old church furnishings and try to return them to the building.



Above: In one of the barns they had set up their own little private museum of rural “bygones” which they had collected over thirty years in local antique shops and on markets.

“The linen was a wonderful find. It came from a woman over at the next village who was clearing out a relative’s house. The place was piled to the rafters with junk, and among it all was a tin trunk filled with Victorian linen. You see, when people know you collect things they start to look out for you. The linen was amazing. Clothes not worn for a hundred years or more!”.

I went over and looked through the collection. There were all sorts of domestic items (china, ancient kitchen utensils, old farm tools). There was a “rag rug” which had been specially commissioned from an old boy locally who was still turning them out. In another barn there were the contents of a Victorian chemist from a nearby town (when the family business closed they bought up all the pre-1900 items which had been just stacked in a back room). Most poignant of all were stacks of family photographs from the 1880s and 90s. The whole collection represented a considerable labour of love.



Above: In the fields you could see traces of the former strip and furrow agricultural system. Ponds had been reinstated (presumably contributing to the hordes of insects). The couple had bought the fields around the redundant church to ensure that the archaeological remains of the deserted village were conserved for a future excavation.



Above: “Those are long-wool sheep. Fairly rare animals. They are kept for their wool more than their meat.”

My tea cup was frequently replenished. The hot sun streamed down, contributing to the humidity. The couple seemed pleased that someone was taking an interest in all their hard work.