The Battlefields Trail

Trying out and reviewing walks for various publications and societies this year means I have covered almost seven hundred miles since the spring. Of course I prefer a circular route for walking back along the same path, albeit offering a different viewpoint, is a little tedious - as I found when having to return to the car when researching Ley Lines Across the Midlands and later The Salt Routes. Yet discovering the leaflet advertising the Battlefields Trail I was instantly attracted.

Here three of the most significant battles on English soil were linked by a twenty-mile route through the south Midlands. Each site is clearly marked and information boards provide details of the combatants and how events unfolded. The trail starts in Chipping Warden and the route is stated clearly in the dowloadable leaflet known as the Battlefields Trail, hence here we just touch upon the history.

On July 26th 1469 the Wars of the Roses moved to Edgecote Moor. Here Richard Neville, 16th Earl of Warwick led the Lancastrians against a Yorkist army.

A quarter of a century earlier at Cropredy Bridge another engagement took place in the small village of Cropredy Bridge. This place features as a point on one of the routes in my book Ley Lines Across the Midlands.
Just to the northwest of the delightful River Cherwell, Cropredy Bridge was named as an ancient river crossing, a ford across the shallowest part of the river. Indeed this point is also where two leys cross, the other known as the Waterstone ley. Despite the name of the village, as far as we can tell the first bridge was not constructed here until 1312.
The most famous moment in the history of Cropredy Bridge happened on 29th June 1644. The Parliamentarians were under the command of Sir William Waller, whose other claim to fame is as the man who proposed the formation of the New Model Army where professional soldiers fought under trained officers. Prior to this the troops were composed of any able fighting men, led by aristocrats whose only qualification to lead a war was through their bloodline. Opposing Waller were the Royalist forces, under the command of King Charles himself.
Here reports are conflicting. Some speak of a fierce battle, while others maintain it was only a minor skirmish. However both agree that the Royalists were victorious and marked a milestone in English history for this was the final battle won on home soil under the command of the reigning monarch. These differing accounts come about because they were written by different sides. The ferocity of the battle is exaggerated by the Parliamentarians, defeated they wished to tell of how bravely they fought. However their opponents describe a virtual walk over where hardly a shot was fired in anger.
So which is correct? The answer is found in the addendum to the Royalist record. It speaks of their disappointment at how their victory realised so very little, for their prisoners were not the cream of the fighting force and the captured equipment well-nigh worthless.

The earliest of the three barttles was fought at Edgehill on 23rd October 1642, indeed it was the first serious confrontation of the Civil War. The encounter is well covered by the Battlefields Trust leaflet. Again this battle features in the pages of one of my books, this time Paranormal Cotswolds where the story is told as follows:
At the northern edge of Cotswolds is Kineton and a famous moment in time. On the 23rd of October in the year of 1642, one of the greatest battles in English history was fought here, the first major engagement of the English Civil War.
Had there been a decisive victory for either side the conflict further bloodshed may have been avoided and thereafter resolved over the negotiating table. That the battle of almost 30,000 men resulted in 500 dead and 1,500 wounded from each side of the equally matched forces probably accounts for it seemingly continuing long after the mortal combatants had left the arena.
Early in 1643 a report was published by a London printer, sharing the tale of Christmas 1642 in Kineton. A group of shepherds, journeymen and a number of locals were abroad walking the lanes in the first hour after midnight, the first hour of the last Sunday in Advent. Suddenly they were aware of the sound of distant drums, the groans of dying men and the sounds of battle. They watched transfixed as the battle was renacted against the backdrop of the dark winter skies overhead. not daring to move should they be mistakenly be attacked amidst the carnage all around them.
For three hours they watched the slaughter until they considered it over and safe to move. They ran to Kineton's JP and minister, Mr Wood and Mr Marshall respectively, and told them of the horrors they had just witnessed. The skeptical well-educated gents returned to the scene 24 hours later and stood open-mouthed as they witnessed the battle re-enacted once more.
Rumours spread and reached the ears of the king himself, who had been present at the battle. He sent six men, a colonel, two captains and three men of high birth to investigate and, when Saturday night came around once more, the battle was again witnessed in the skies. They watched as men they had fought with, died once more slain by a sword in the hands of an opponent.
Twice more the ghostly battle has been reported. In the first days of 1643, and again around the early Victorian era when a group of newspaper reporters were on hand. Since that time only sounds of the battle have been heard, although there have been reports of Charles I's nephew and right-hand man at the battle, Prince Rupert of the Rhine, being seen astride his white charger directing the Royalist Army.

The leaflet states this can be travelled in three stages, although the twenty miles is manageable by experienced walkers in a single day (assuming the weather is kind and there are sufficient hours of daylight).

Alfred Watkins, Ley Lines and Me

In 1921 Alfred Watkins published a theory. In truth others had had the same idea before but Mr Watkins was the first to put his thoughts into print. Thus the world was introduced to ley lines.
So what is a ley line? There is some disagreement as to exactly what ley lines are, yet all agree they are lines and what is more they are straight lines. Mr Watkins was the first person to give these alignments a name. The word is taken from the Saxon leah meaning 'a woodland clearing' and appearing at the end of innumerable place names, such as Hanley, Hinckley, Dudley and Rugeley. However the accepted pronunciation for the line is now as in 'lay'. Many cultures have shown an interest in straight lines, the most famous and enduring being the Nazca lines of the high plateau in Peru.
A more recent theory suggests these lines mark the paths of an earth force, intersecting points of two leys are said to release a special psychic or magical energy. This energy is not only said to be beneficial but a vital source of positive energies. There are also those who maintain they are able to trace leys using dowsing rods. I have seen this happen more than once, with different people holding the rods, yet have never managed to get any movement at all from the dowsing rods myself.
Any credence I could give to the more supernatural explanation evaporates with the claim that leys can be traced by dowsing, this time using a plumb line, over a map. In order to accept that this is possible, we would also have to assume that the tool (either the plumb line or the plumb bob) can read. Otherwise how would the tool recognise that it was a map - complete with contours, names and features - rather than a piece of paper with a few random letters, and straight and curved lines scribbled on it (or even an old cigarette packet)?
Other properties attributed to leys include the power to heal, a magnet for ghosts and anything supernatural, geomancy, the explanation for the existence and creation of crop circles, and signals to UFOs. There is even an account of an alignment being found on Mars, leading to (or from, depending upon which version you read) the phenomena which has become known as the Face of Mars. Apparently this is the only proof required to show that leys are common to every planet in the galaxy. My only acceptance of leys is the same as the man who named them, Alfred Watkins.
Watkins proposed that the straight lines were ancient trackways, laid down by those who settled in the British Isles when it was largely forested. As the ley was created a number of markers were created to enable the traveller to follow the track even though he was out of direct line of sight of both his point of departure and his objective. It is these tracks that my book Ley Lines Across the Midlands examined.
Obviously the first time anyone travelled from point A to point B there was no marked path to follow. Therefore someone had to find a way of marking the shortest route and also making sure there was no error otherwise all that was being created was a road to nowhere. The method used to ensure a straight and true path was simplicity itself and the same basic system is still used by surveyors today.
Few tools are required to produce a perfectly straight line over unlimited distances. Three wooden staves are all it takes. Whilst both his point of origin and his target were in sight he would secure his first stake in the ground at a point where it stood on a direct line between the two. The second stake would be placed further along this same line thus creating two certain points of reference. His third stake would be aligned at a point as far away from the first two as it was possible to see and maintain the accuracy. Now the first stake can be removed and aligned at the front, thus effectively becoming the fourth stake. Alfred Watkins referred to these surveyors as dodmen, citing the gait of the elderly being referred to as 'doddering' and the Welsh dodi meaning to place or to lay.
Some have pointed to the staves or stakes being carried by the chalk figure of the Long Man of Wilmington in Sussex, suggesting the figure may have been created to acknowledge the invaluable contribution these men made. This 69 metres (227 feet) long figure carries two long poles or staves. Like the other human figure of the Giant at Cerne Abbas, these are considered ancient. However no record of either figure has ever been found dating from before the 17th century. Considering the planning and the huge effort which would have gone into the construction, it seems unlikely that either would have avoided any mention for well over two thousand years.
The only thing left was to create markers. These would have stood out from everything in view like the proverbial sore thumb. Each marker had to be within sight of the previous one as there was no path underfoot to follow. Markers were originally simply a pile of stones, or a burned tree, or a purpose-built ford. Later some of these sites took on more significance and became tumuli, cairns, pagan places of worship and sometimes even new settlements.
Obviously not all of the permanent markers were contemporary. Indeed, those who doubt the existence of leys point out these great differences in age as evidence that the ley could not have been marked out using the marks cited, for originally many of them could not have existed. This cannot be disputed, however perhaps the way to look at it is that the modern evidence was erected on the track already in existence. Even today any construction work grows alongside an existing road, so it is a safe assumption that this has always been the case. Besides there would be no point in creating a sacred place which was quite literally off the beaten track for nobody would ever be able to find it.
The Romans, famous for their straight roads, would undoubtedly have taken advantage of the trackways already in existence. They used the same method to mark out their own roads which, although they were not significantly wider, were vastly superior underfoot. Furthermore, no markers were required here for the road itself was evidence enough. Today these former markers can still sometimes be seen in the names of the settlements, indeed such is often the only clue we have.
It should be noted that skeptics have discounted the idea of ley lines as fanciful archaeology. Quite rightly they point to the comparatively large number of settlements in Europe and, seeing these as dots on a map, conclude that there is no deliberate alignment. The fact that there are so many dots means it is inevitable that some will fall in a straight line. Alfred Watkin himself pointed this out in his book The Old Straight Track.
My book accepts that ley lines do exist and takes the reader along a number of these ancient routes across the counties of the Midlands. While the different leys have similar markers in a general sense, each has its own individual story to tell and is a different piece of the whole incomplete puzzle. Incomplete because the several leys can be traced across distances much greater than just central England. Not only will we discover something of the places and the markers, but will look at the possible reasons and uses for the trackway, and the people who have followed these same paths.
Although they lie outside the area covered by Ley Lines Across the Midlands, the stone circles of Avebury and Stonehenge in Wiltshire are well-known as focal points for a number of trackways and importantly can be dated. These two religious sites are over five thousand years old. Clearly they were built on trackways existing beforehand, hence the leys themselves are older and likely very much older. Since the original markers have long since disappeared it is difficult to know exactly when any particular track was created. Indeed it is virtually impossible to say just how old any of the leys are.
Therefore we must guess as to the age of these tracks and for this we need clues. The only ones we have are the people, and when they first settled into permanent homes rather than leading the life of hunter gatherers. The only other really relevant factor are the forests, which severely hampered the vision of those people of the British Isles and created the need for marked trackways. This all happened closer to ten thousand years ago.
Whether any of the routes covered in my Ley Lines Across the Midlands are among the original tracks of ten thousand years ago is unknown and never will be known. However it is safe to assume they date from at least the pre-Roman era of two thousand years ago and are likely to be twice that age.

Published by The History Press Ley Lines Across the Midlands was the first of my books on ancient routes and trackways.

The Ashby Canal

My latest longer distance walk saw me stretching my legs along the Ashby Canal. At 31 miles in length it was open by 1804 and connected the mining community of Moira in Leicstershire with the Coventry Canal at Bedworth in Warwickshire. While it was quite easy to walk the navigable 22 miles remaining inside two days (one day is also achievable), as I did not walk this on consecutive days and the practicalities involved in looping back to my starting point (in order to pick up the car) this was stretched over three days.

The abandoned section of this canal was closed in three stages, 1944, 1957 and 1966. Ironically the subsidence from the coal and limestone mines the route was built to serve was its own downfall. There is a restoration project in full swing, although it will never be possible to reopen the original route for much has been filled in and some now developed. A mile around Moira was restored between 1999 and 2005 and, while it is hoped that all but the last mile will eventually be reopened, today the route ends just north of the Snarestone tunnel.

While the canal is generally travelled from south to north, at least initially, I walked in the opposite direction. Normally I find walking along the tow path to be surprisingly tiring, unexpected because they are obviously very flat away except for the occasional lock or bridge. However that they are flat means you are using the same muscles all the time, unlike when crossing undulating fields or steeper inclines. Yet with the Ashby Canal the tow path, and indeed the canal itself, are not (yet) as well maintained as those more popular routes. As result the tow paths have many holes and are quite rutted owing to a lack of hardcore and the many cyclists which pass along here. Thus the problem is not that it is lvel but the very real problem of turning an ankle, so beware!

Finding the end of current the canal, north of Snarestone Tunnel, in the car is not easy so I resorted to parking at Snarestone and walking as far as I could before turning round and retracing my footsteps south and beyond. Along the route to Shackerstone the canal winds along the contour line, wih the former railway line still visible in the landscape to the right from time to time. Indeed there are a number of circular walks posted on boards on the tow path, parts of which utilise the old trackbed.

Reaching Shackerstone at the Turnover Bridge, take the time to visit the Battlefield Line Museum at the station or take advantage of the station cafeteria should these be open on the day. Incidentally the Turnover Bridge will not be named anywhere but the OS map, yet it cannot be mistaken for it will be where the tow path switches over to the opposite side of the canal. Returning to the canal retrace your walk along the tow path back to Town Bridge, passing underneath and ascending to the road. Turn left, away from the town, cross another bridge over the trackbed clearly visible below and tirn immediately left along a single-track and very straight road. Just after a lefthand bend the Ivanhoe Way is signed off to the left. Crossing a series of fields and stiles brings us back to the road at Snarestone where, turning left, takes us back to the Globe Inn which is adjacent to the Snarestone Tunnel and the start of the first leg.

The second leg was easier to organise, walked at the weekend with a little help from the Battlefield Line. Parking at Shackerstone I bought a single and travelled along this heritage line to Shenton. The Battlefield Line began as the Shackerstone Railway Society in 1969 but, by the following year, had relocated to Shackerstone for the facilities were better for housing the steam engines. First operational in the 1970s by 1992 the one and a half mile extension to Shenton was opened when the first engine pulled the inaugural service. This 0-6-0 tank engine was appropriately named Richard III, appropriate as this stop links to Bosworth Field and the famous engagement which ended the Wars of the Roses and the crown passed from Richard III to Henry VII in 1485. Bosworth Field Visitor Centre and Ambion Hill, now generally acknowledged as the true location of the important events, are just a short walk away. However my route was along the canal, a short journey which continued along the former track bed to cross the canal and then head north back to my starting point.

The third and final leg took me back to Shenton. This was the longest of the three legs and required a little juggling with public transport. Parking at Hinckley I caught a bus to Market Bosworth and then walked to Shenton. Before joining the canal by climbing up to the Shenton Viaduct, I took the short detour to see King Richard's Stone, a reminder this was where Richard III was said to have died following defeat at Bosworth.

This leg winds along passing near Stoke Golding where, at bridge number 25, Ashby Boats have a good selection of narrowboats for hire which, as there are no locks on the Ashby Canal, makes for a leisurely journey. Also at bridge 25 we can find 'the Ghost Railway', so-called as it is a stretch of track bed where the sleepers and rails have been removed but is remarkably well preserved considering it is not in use.

A rather close and warmish day slowed my pace a little and, as I paused frequently to gather blackberries (amassing over two pounds by the end), it took a little longer than I had planned to reach the junction with the Coventry Canal at Bedworth. From here I found the railway station and, changing at Nuneaton, took the train back to my starting point at Hinckley having walked a total of more than sixteen miles.

Never Walk Alone?

It probably comes as no suprise to learn I have been walking many a mile of late. I've roamed canal tow paths, fields, footpaths, lanes, woods, lakes, former railway lines and even skirted working quarries. Most of the time I've followed recommended routes, circular walks which have taken me well over 500 miles in the last six months.

For much of the time I find myself completely alone and I am able to enjoy the peace and quiet, seeing only an occasional dog walker, cyclist or fisherman. However, being recommended routes, there are also times when the walk attracts groups. Walking in a group is rather different for either there is an increasing distance between first and last, in which case there is no actual 'group' but a 'string', or everyone keeps the pace of the slowest of their number.

Personally I cannot see the attraction of walking in a pack. Aside from having to wait for the slowest, they lose any chance of enjoying peace and quiet, the freedom, the opportunity to throw off daily routines and pressures, and the chance to think. If the pack is walking in the opposite direction you become aware of them from afar for their chattering can be heard from quite some distance. However if the pack is treading the same route, I endeavour to put as much distance between us as humanly possible, for I do not want any intrusion upon my solitude.

I concede there are those for whom solitude is sadly not safe. However if the idea is simply to wander and enjoy a sandwich, flask of tea, and a natter, wouldn't it be more sensible to walk around the local park or even the shopping centre?

The Lapal Canal

No I hadn't heard of it either, not until a recent walk took me south of Halesowen. The final leg saw me cross back across the busy A456 and follow the public footpath towards Leasowes Park. The Leasowes was landscaped in the middle of the eighteenth century by William Shenstone when most gardens were laid out in formal regular lines and shapes. Shenstone's clever work highlighted the surrounding countryside by affording excellent views.

Within a quarter of a mile this forms the tow path of the Lapal Canal, although it is another quarter of a mile before more than a drop of water is seen. There is no doubting the cutting still exists, the unbroken swathe of the broad leaves of water iris also shows it does not dry out. Built some two hundred years ago it connected Halesowen to the extensive network centred on Birmingham and required the construction of a sixty feet high earth embankment, at the time the highest in the world, which today affords excellent views over the pool as the walker will soon see.

Mucklows Hill was an obstacle to the canal builders and, in the true spirit of the time, they tunnelled right through it to emerge at Selly Oak. This was a distance of over two miles, making it the fourth longest canal tunnel in the land. Protests at this proposed tunnel were quite amazing for the time when an impressive thirteen thousand individuals wrote opposing it. Disused and in need of repair the tunnel collapsed in 1917 and in 1960 an accident caused the waters to burst through the banks and flood factories below Mucklows Hill. Today it is still closed and, while there are moves to reopen the canal and take advantage of the major growth leisure industry in the country, the tunnel seems destined to remain closed forever with plans to take the canal up to the level of Woodgate Valley.

Writing Memories on a Lichfield Walk

Soaring Heaven on Earth is a somewhat overly dramatic title for a walk on the northern edge of the city of Lichfield. This was not a walk I anticipated would bring any great satisfaction. I like a distant sound of traffic and little or no tarmac. However this proved a pleasant albeit brief distraction, particularly so when I found myself reunited with areas of my native county which I had visited previously when compiling four of my books: Staffordshire Place Names, Staffordshire Privies, South Staffordshire Street Names, and the forthcoming Paranormal Staffordshire.

I started the route at a different point on the walk, solely because parking was impossible on that day. Soon I was trying to recall the meaning of a number of street names as I started off at Cross Keys, itself taking the name of a former public house, itself named from the symbol representing St Peter. Passing through Lloyds Walk, named after the bank which owns the land, I turned into Dam Street, a reminder of where the water flow feeding the mill was controlled. Here is Dame Olivers, the school where Dr Samuel Johnson learned his first lessons.

Nether Pool is of lesser importance than Stowe Pool. Crossing Bird Street, known as Byrd Street in 1506 and named after a local family, we come to Beacon Park, a name transferred from Beacon Street which we shall encounter very soon.

Skirting the park we approached Townfields, the name explains itself. It was here that a former resident allowed me to photograph the building which had once served as the privy before modern plumbing was installed. The solid brick building certainly smelled better when I photographed it, for one wall and the roof were covered in honeysuckle and its heady sweet perfume.

Shaw Lane is an old name found in the landscape, one referring to 'the enclosure', leads to Beacon Street, which was known as Bacon Street until 1836 and tells us this was where meat was cured. Along here is Erasmus Darwin House where I heard of the unexplained events of cellar lights being turned on moments after being turned off for the night. Another man in period costume appeared to a member of staff and was thought to be playing a role for the museum until she realised he had vanished and that no costumed characters were on site that day.

A side road on the left is The Close, the road associated with the cathedral, and here another phenomenon seemed keen to allow aromas of cooking to permeate into the upstairs of one person's house when nobody was cooking. The buildings on either side seem to frame the magnificent Lichfield Cathedral with its three spires known as the Ladies of the Vale. Briefly touching Dam Street again we turn left along Reeve Lane, a reeve was a Saxon officer appointed by the lord of the manor to see to the running of the estate in his stead.

This path brings us to the single circuit of Stowe Pool, from stow which has several meanings and is best defined as simply 'place' as 'special place' makes it sound of greater significance than it actually was. The path leads off and up the ramp and back to my waiting car.

The walk brought back memories of facts and narratives I would never have remembered had I tried to recall them from a question or a reminder of a name.

Walking Hither and Yon

Continuing to research a number of local walks, in the last month or so I have covered some 60 miles on foot. Over stiles and fields, along tow paths, over motorways, through woodland and staring into the depths of a quarry or two, the diversity of the landscape never fails to amaze me.

Around Kingsbury Water Park is an appropriate title for a walk which takes us through some of the thirty lakes, along the banks of the River Tame, and along the tow path of the Birmingham and Fazeley Canal. In the main the instructions are clear and much of the walk, especially the second half, is self-evident.
With all this water about wildlife abounds, particularly waterfowl. From time to time you will hear an odd wailing siren, something which baffled me until I noticed a scarecrow-type figure on an island in the middle of one of the lakes. This oddity leapt to a standing position to coincide with this alarm. Clearly the intention is to frighten something (presumably the birds) away from the island, yet I have no idea why.

Earlswood Lakes were constructed to provide water for the canal. As a child I spent many hours in the area, fishing, cycling, picking blackberries, and camping. There are more houses today, and the pub no longer have a delivious ploughman's lunch on offer, yet over forty years the area has really changed very little.
The walk takes in some delightful views of the lakes and woodland, largely steers clear of the roads, with large stretches confined to field after field. At one stage the route ascends the railway embankment and the path crosses two railway lines by means of a wooden crossing. It sounds more dangerous than it is, for the line is fairly straight here and there are good views for half a mile in each direction.

Brueton Park and the Grand Union Canal begins at a free car park alongside Brueton Park. Parking is free here for four hours and, while the estimate is a minimum of 2 hours and 30 minutes, try not to spend too long enjoying the scenery for there is a threatened clamping for those exceeding the four hours. Personally I would think the powers that be should pay more attention to those who park outside the marked bays, on the day I was there the combination of school holidays and excellent weather meant many cars were parked illegally and made entering and leaving the car park much more difficult than necessary.
My personal preference is for the peace and quiet offerend by green fields and this walk does keep bringing us back to civilization. Crossing the golf course, a busy road or three, traffic along country lanes, a footbridge over six lanes of motorway, not to mention the outskirts of Solihull town centre and the park itself, are reminders of just how near the town we are.

Around Baddesley Clinton Manor House starts off with an excellent wander through woodland which, in April, was literally carpeted by bluebells as far as the eye could see. Before crossing fields the next leg does take in a rather lengthy section of road, something we see again before the final leg across many fields.
Note the instructions state to park outside the church, yet this is now blocked off by a locked gate (open only when services are held). Hence cars are forced to park on the grass verge and there is only room for four or possibly five cars here, although there are more spaces further down the hill.

Fradley Junction is well worth a visit even if there is no plan for a lengthy walk. A choice of places to eat, plenty of canal traffic to watch from both canals, with a wildlife stroll around a pool, and posts with recorded information on the history of the site.
The walk looping around Alrewas is basically a triangle. The first stretch follows the Trent and Mersey as far as the River Trent. It is here the walk becomes a little complicated, the way is not particularly well marked although there are few alternatives around the cricket ground and skirting the housing estate. After crossing the road the route across the fields is obvious, as is returning to the junction along the tow path of the Coventry Canal.

Although I walk in most of what the British climate has to offer, the unseasonable weather certainly gave every mile an added beauty. From the vantage point of a hilltop or ridge the landscape below revealed how the sunlight enhances every natural feature, while those man-made are simply scars.