Rutland: Oakham, Hambleton and Normanton

A Small, Proud and Beautiful County

Introducing Rutland

Rutland

When I was at school (1950s and 60s), Rutland, only 18 mile long and 17 miles wide, was the smallest of England’s 40 counties. It isn’t any more.

Rutland ceased to be a county in 1974 when, much to Rutlanders disgust, a local government reorganisation made it part of Leicestershire. But for a last-minute change of heart there would have been even greater humiliation; with fewer than 40,000 inhabitants tiny Rutland would not just have been absorbed by Leicestershire, but by the Melton District of Leicestershire.

Rutland in England's East Midlands

Time rolled on, Rutlanders remained restless and the 1994 local government review suggested Rutland should, despite its small population, become a unitary authority. As such Rutland was able to regain county status in 1997.

But there had been other changes since 1974, 40 counties have become 48 'Ceremonial Counties' and two of them are smaller than Rutland. The City and County of Bristol is one third Rutland’s size, though with ten times the population, and the highly anomalous City of London (the square mile around St Paul’s Cathedral) is smaller in area and population with only 10,000 residents - though Monday to Friday half a million commuters cram themselves into its office blocks.

Rutland now calls itself England’s smallest ‘traditional county’ - a conveniently undefined entity.

26-Jul-2021

Oakham

With a little over 10,000 inhabitants, Oakham has been Rutland’s county town and main population centre as long as records have been kept.

Rutland

Oakham is pleasant and compact, with few intrusive modern developments in the town centre. More recent buildings are usually of brick…

Largely brick buildings, Oakham

…but there are many older stone structures. Rutland lies on the band of oolitic limestone stretching from the Humber, through the Cotswolds and down to the south coast at Portland. Honey-coloured in the Cotswolds and Bath, it is locally cream to pale yellow or sometimes pink.

Stone Buildings, Oakham

The Market and Buttercross

A market is held every Wednesday and Saturday, though recently Covid-curtailed.

Oakham Market Square

At the end of the market place is a handsome buttercross. Buttercrosses were features of markets throughout England - fresh produce, butter, milk and eggs would have been displayed on the circular stepped base - and over 60 survive in situ. Most have medieval origins but over several centuries use the structures would have been adapted to changing needs, making them difficult to date. Visit Oakham claims theirs is mid to late 17th century, though it looks older.

Buttercross, Oakham Market Square

Rural life was harsh in bygone centuries, and punishment for miscreants harsher still. The town stocks still stand at the back of the buttercross.

Stocks, Oakham Buttercross

Oakham Castle

Oakham Castle was technically only a fortified manor house, but as it had a curtain wall, of which little remains, and a moat and drawbridge the difference is hard to spot. There are lumps and bumps of earthworks and bits of wall in the surrounding parks, but nothing that the imagination can easily reassemble.

The gateway from the market square, on the site of the original drawbridge, is a Grade I listed structure in its own right. It is presumed to be early 17th century, as Burley House at Burley-on-the-Hill (see map) has two very similar gates constructed for George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, who owned the house from 1620 until his death in 1628.

Entrance to Oakham Castle from the Market Place

Inside, and often referred to as 'Oakham Castle', is the great hall of the original fortified manor house. Built between 1180 and 1190 by Walkelin de Ferrers, lord of the manor of Oakham it is the finest surviving example of domestic Norman architecture in England. It has undergone some changes since the 12th century, the dormer windows were added later and the door may have been moved but the rounded Norman arches are original.

Lynne at Oakham Castle

A Court and Many Horseshoes

Inside are two remarkable features – apart from the roof-beams and the Norman arches.

Beams and arches, Oakham Castle

The first is the modern(ish) court furniture; a crown court has been held in the castle every two years since 1229…

The Court, Oakham Castle

…and the second feature, obvious from the photos above and below is the horseshoes. The horseshoe is a symbol of the de Ferrers family who built the castle and were Lords of the Manor for several centuries, and today appears on the county flag (see above). By tradition any peer of the realm must forfeit a horseshoe to the Lord of the Manor on their first visit to Oakham.

Horseshoes, Oakham Castle

Many early horseshoes were simply that and have been lost, the oldest surviving example being presented by Edward IV in 1470. They became elaborate over time and 230 horseshoes currently decorate the castle walls. Today the tradition is maintained only be the Royal Family. The Queen’s horseshoe, small but elegant, hangs above the judge’s head in the court and contributions from Prince Charles and the Duchess of Cornwall are easily found.

The horseshoes are orientated in accordance with county custom, the opposite way up from the rest of the country. The wise people of Rutland spotted that a horseshoe orientated as is usual for good luck, provides a convenient seat for the devil and Rutlanders prefer to tip him out.

The Grainstore and Ruddles – Tales of Mixed Fortunes

Next door to Oakham’s handsome Grade II listed Victorian railway station, …

Oakham Station

… is a restored storehouse inhabited by the Grainstore Brewery and Tap. We called in for lunch, sharing a sandwich and having a half each of their excellent Cooking Bitter. The Grainstore produces 11 ales all year round and a host of seasonal brews. ‘Cooking’, at 3.6% is their basic, ‘session beer’ and provided full flavour at the perfect strength for our day.

The Grainstore Brewery and Tap, Oakham

The Grainstore was founded in 1995 by Tony Davis, formerly head brewer of the once proud Ruddles Brewery, and businessman Mike Davies.

In the dark days when big brewers were determined to pour bland, fizzy keg beers down undiscerning customer’s throats, Ruddles, in nearby Langham, was a beacon of brewing integrity with a reputation extending far beyond Rutland.

Ruddles as it was

Ruddles as it is

Big brewers, more interested in their bottom line than their products, routinely bought up smaller, quality brewers, often just to close them down. Ruddles was bought by Watneys (the inventors of keg beer) in 1986 and one of the big 6 brewers who by then controlled most of the industry. In 1992 Watney’s sold Ruddles to Grolsch who in 1997 passed them on to Morlands, a medium sized brewer with expansionist ambitions. Morlands closed the Langham brewery and switched production of Ruddles beers away from Rutland to Abingdon. In 2000 they were taken over by Greene King, who now brew beers under the Ruddles name in Cambridge, but use neither the original recipes, nor the Langham well water. They are no longer Rutland beers and as a final insult the horseshoe on the label has been inverted.

The Grainstore continues to produce fine Rutland ales.

The Grainstore - brewing fine ales in Rutland

Rutland County Museum

The Rutland County Museum in Catmos Street is a short walk away - nothing is very far in Oakham. Since 1969 it has occupied the former riding school of the Rutland Regiment of Fencible Cavalry, built in 1795.

Fencible was a new word to me. Fencibles were regiments raised for defence against the threat of invasion in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. During a series of conflicts from the Seven Years War to the Napoleonic Wars, they were locally raised with regular army officers and formed a sort of Home Guard, though sometimes privately funded

Invasion was taken seriously. The Exton Gun was probably built in 1804-6 for Sir Gerard Noel M.P. who had earlier built the riding school. Intended for the defence of his Exton estate the unusual (idiosyncratic?) design has two gunners’ seats over ammunition racks for paper cartridges while a single front wheel on a turntable provides a traversing mechanism. Whether it would have been any use in the event of invasion can only be conjecture.

Exton Gun, Rutland Musuem

Rutland is a rural county and much of the museum is devoted to farming. From farm vehicles, like the Tumbril Muck Carts …

Tumbril muck carts, Rutland Museum

… through the early stages of mechanisation, like the horse drawn sail reaper. Wheat or barley is swept against the cutters by the rotating sails and laid out in rows or sheaf sized bundles depending on setting.

Sail reaper, Rutland Museum

And some early tractors including a 1912 Saunderson (no photos due blogger's incompetence, but to see an almost identical Saunderson at work in New Zealand click here).

Despite having no particular reputation for cheese, dairying was an important part of Rutland farming.

Dairy mock-up, Rutland Museum

I particularly liked this single churn hand-cart. For generations milk was sold on the doorstep direct from the churn and larger multi-churn horse-drawn carts were common in every town and city.

Single churn hand cart, Rutland Museum

My late father’s inclination was always to look to the future and embrace new technology. He used to tell the story of walking through the streets of his hometown (Newport in South Wales) as a child (in the late 1920s/early 30s, I would think) with his father and seeing milk being sold in this way. ‘Look, boy,’ his father gravely intoned, ‘horses will always be needed for that job, motor vehicles could never be used because the fumes would spoil the milk.’ It took me years to understand the point of that story, and it is not just that my grandfather was out of touch. Fortunately, that never happens with grandparent these days (I wish).

The museum also contains the town gallows, used in the market square for crimes where the stocks and other punishments were deemed insufficient. It was one of the first ‘long drop’ gallows, which were considered more humane, though that was not necessarily the case if, as was reported about these gallows, the drop was not sufficiently long.

Gallows, Rutland Museum

Hambleton

Ironically England’s smallest (traditional) county is home to England’s largest artificial lake. Rutland Water, an 11km² reservoir, was constructed in the early 70s and flooded in 1976. We had learned about the local opposition in the museum, but honest and heartfelt as it was, forty-five years on the lake has become accepted and valued as a local amenity, a tourist attraction and an important wildlife habitat – and, of course, it supplies water to Peterborough and surrounding area as it was designed to do.

As the Rutland map (above) shows, the Hambleton Peninsula is a major feature of Rutland Water. Once there were three villages, Nether, Middle and Upper Hambleton, now there is only one, known simply as Hambleton and that was where we went next.

The dwellings in Hambleton are of various ages and styles, …

Hambleton

….but all show the comfortable prosperity which appears to be the Rutland norm.

Hambleton

We stayed in the very pleasant Finch’s Arms with its 19th century exterior and much modernised interior, but for dinner we took the short walk to Hambleton Hall which has a Michelin starred restaurant. Today was our 46th wedding anniversary, and we planned to celebrate in style. The dinner has a post to itself.

Finch's Arms, Hambleton

27-Jul-2021

Normanton

In the morning, after a good Finch’s Arms breakfast, we headed for the small village of Normanton on the south side of Rutland Water. It does not appear on the map above, but is part of the parish of Edith Weston (a village, not a person!) which does.

It stands on the estate once owned by the Heathcote family, later Earls of Ancaster. With a true 18th century disregard for the lower orders, they cleared the village, sending the inhabitants off to live in Empingham, so they could have a park.

Normanton suffered again in 1976 when Rutland Water was built, a large part of the park, though no houses, disappearing beneath the reservoir. St Matthew’s Church, once the private chapel of the Normanton Estate was deconsecrated and scheduled for demolition, but following a public outcry, the structure was saved and for a time it housed a museum of the history of Rutland Water. It is now used for civil weddings and concerts (at least it was before Covid).

Normanton Church

Although Grade II listed, it is an odd building, the tower and the western portico being built in the 1820s while the nave and apse date from 1911.

Controversial as its construction was, Rutland Water is more than just a reservoir. The lake and shore are a Site of Special Scientific Interest, and a Special Protection Area for the Conservation of Wild Birds. 1,333 ha of the shore is recognised by UNESCO as an internationally important wetland site.

‘Did you see the ospreys?’ a birder friend asked on learning we had visited the lake. Ospreys were re-introduced to the region in 1996 and are thriving, but we were no more successful here than we had been at the mouth of the Spey a couple of weeks earlier. I doubt that our technique of occasionally glancing across the water is likely to yield a result. We did see some ducks, though.

Ducks, Rutland Water

So, having enjoyed a walk by the lake on a fine summer morning, we set off home.

Lanark, New and Old: Scotland '21 Part 6

The Vision of David Dale & Robert Owen and the Legend of William Wallace

Sun 11-July-2021

Heading South

Scotland

After saying goodbye to Norma and Wilson, we journeyed south from Forres, pausing for a snack lunch on the Perth by-pass and a longer stop in Falkirk. Here we visited the Kelpies and the Falkirk Wheel (covered in an earlier post) before continuing to Lanark and arriving late afternoon.

Forres to Lanark

Lanark: An Introduction

Lanark

Sth Lanarkshire

The former Royal Burgh of Lanark was once the county town of Lanarkshire, a large and populous county moulded round the River Clyde, with its head in Glasgow and its toes pointing towards the Southern Uplands. Being a small country town (present pop < 10,000), Lanark lost the gig to Hamilton in 1964. In 1996 Scotland redivided its 35 historic counties into 32 Council Districts. Lanark is now in South Lanarkshire - with headquarters still in Hamilton.

I became aware of ‘Lanark’ in the early 60s when late Saturday afternoons meant the melliflously voiced Len Martin reading the football results on Grandstand. I loved the league tables and tidy lists of numbers, and also the magic of the names, particularly the Scottish names. ‘Third Lanark’ played in Scotland’s top division (they then had two large divisions rather than today’s four smaller ones). If the third team was that good, I thought, in what league does the first team play? The club folded in 1967. Only many years later did I discover they were a Glasgow team founded in 1872 by members of the 3rd Lanarkshire Rifle Volunteers.

I was never interested in horse racing, but I often endured Len reading the racing results before the main event. Lanark Race Course featured occasionally, but that closed in 1977. An equestrian centre occupies part of the site southeast of the town and we stayed at their B&B. Little remains of the racecourse infrastructure but the state of the art (as of 1928) odds and results board still stands, lonely and neglected - though older photos suggest work has recently been carried out to prevent further deterioration.

Odds and results board Lanark Racecourse

We dined at the Inn on the Loch, the only choice within walking distance of the B&B. They served decent pub food at reasonable prices in a pleasant ambience next to a loch (unsurprisingly) and a golf course. We ate early and returned when the first half of the Euro 2020 (sic) Final was still young. Everybody (who cares) knows what happens, so I’ll just say ‘nice try, England, better luck next time.’

Mon 12-July-2021

New Lanark

David Dale

In the morning we drove the short distance down into the Clyde Valley to New Lanark. We were so early we beat the crowds, almost having a car park to ourselves.

New Lanark from the path down from the car park

Born the son of a village general dealer in 1739, David Dale herded cattle before being apprenticed to a handloom weaver and by 1763 was clerk to a Glasgow silk merchant. He started his own import/export business which grew rapidly and by 1777 he was wealthy and married to the daughter of the former Chief Executive of the Royal Bank of Scotland.

By the 1780s Dale was immensely rich and, like many successful Glasgow businessmen, had acquired a house in the verdant Lanarkshire countryside. In 1784 he was visited by Richard Arkwright whose invention of the ‘water frame’ had mechanised cotton spinning and, by the by, created the world's first factories. This blog crossed his path at Rocester in Staffordshire and Bakewell in Derbyshire.

The bell tower at New Lanark that once called the workers to work

The only waterfalls on the River Clyde lie just south of Lanark. Dale and Arkwright considered the abundant water power, decided the valley below the falls was the perfect place for cotton mills, and set about building them.

Mills beside the Clyde, New Lanark

Dale’s partnership with Arkwright was short-lived. The New Lanark site was perfect and Dale, a philanthropist as well as a businessman, built high quality housing for his workers and looked after them well. His cotton spinning operation became the largest in Britain employing 2,000 workers and attracting many visitors including the Wordsworth’s and Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

The New Lanark Mill Hotel, formerly (believe it or not) a mill

As was the practice at the time he also employed children, including 300 orphans. Recruited from the workhouses of Glasgow and Edinburgh they toiled from 6 am to 7 pm six days a week in return for board and lodging. This hardly sounds philanthropic by modern standards, but unlike children in other mills they were well fed and given meal breaks during working hours. ‘They were provided with two sets of work clothes which were laundered regularly and a blue dress uniform for Sundays [..and. their...] sleeping quarters were regularly cleaned.’ (Wikipedia, God bless it). Public Health campaigner, Dr James Currie observed ‘The utmost cleanliness, health and order pervaded the whole manufactory. The children looked cheerful and happy with rosy cheeks and chubby countenances.’ (Chubby countenances were a good thing in the 18th century when starvation was the problem, not obesity.)

Dale believed in educating both the orphans and the children of his adult workers. The mill employed as many as 16 trained teachers providing daily day-school for under sixes and evening school for working children.

The entrance to the New Lanark School building

The Falls of Clyde

Having worked our way down to the river we avoided a dinosaur (they are prevalent locally due to a small rift in the space-time continuum)…

Dinosaurs, New Lanark

…and followed signs to the Falls of Clyde. In my imagination, the River Clyde is wide, polluted and lined with ship yards and industrial premises. It is, of course, and this is the same river a mere 20 miles upstream.

The Clyde, New Lanark

The Clyde was dammed above the falls and water led down to drive the mills, at first with waterwheels later with turbines. I suspect most of the infrastructure we passed as we climbed above the stream was from the 1920s hydroelectric scheme.

The main falls were worth the walk. Photographs suggest the quantity of water varies considerably and we saw a good flow - at times it is a miserable trickle.

The Falls of Clyde

We retraced our steps.

Re-entering New Lanark from the riverside walk

Robert Owen and After

In 1800 David Dale sold New Lanark to a partnership headed by his son-in-law the Welsh Socialist Utopian, Robert Owen.

Owen’s plans to further improve the lot of his workers were deemed too expensive by some partners, and he had to bring in new investors, notably the philosopher, Jeremy Bentham. He developed the educational opportunities of his workers’ children and campaigned for a national 8-hour working day which he implemented at New Lanark in 1810.

Robert Owen's House New Lanark

Despite the misgivings of more traditional/authoritarian capitalists, the mills thrived under Owen’s management, but after 25 years he decided it was time to move on to new challenges. New Lanark passed through several hands, remaining largely successful, until the 20th century when war, recession and another war made business difficult and the population started to dwindle. Through the 1960s and 70s cotton was increasing processed near where it was grown and Britain’s once huge cotton industry gradually disappeared. New Lanark submitting to the inevitable in 1968 and soon the village was empty. For a while it was left to decay and was threatened by demolition until the New Lanark Trust took over in 1979.

The Trust restored the buildings, repurposing some as museums, others became holiday cottages, a hotel, a youth hostel and a visitor centre. New Lanark gained UNESCO world heritage status in 2001. And why did we not visit any of the houses or the visitor centre? Because they all close on Mondays, a fact I failed to notice when organising this trip.

(Old) Lanark

The original Lanark is just a kilometre north of New Lanark on the rolling agricultural land above the Clyde gorge ('gorge' is a too dramatic a word, but the Clyde has dug itself in round New Lanark). The town was founded as a Royal Burgh by King David I in 1140 as one of a chain of new towns he hoped would become centres of Norman civilisation and develop trade to increase the material well-being of his people.

Having started at the beginning I shall now leap to the present day and work backwards until I re-encounter the beginning.

Modern(ish) stuff

Lanark is a small, pleasant and apparently prosperous town – meaning that the buildings are in good condition and the High Street shops all have tenants. Unfortunately, Lanark (like Nairn two days ago) is a town in need of a by-pass; The High Street has semi-permanent congestion in one direction or the other (sometimes both).

Lanark High Street looking east, with congested westbound traffic

Having driven to the west end in search of parking, we retuned east on foot, passing the Memorial Hall. Built in 1926 to commemorate the 232 local men who lost their lives in World War One, the hall is a venue for performances and events.

Lanark Memorial Hall

As we discovered in Edinburgh, a burgh needs a kirk, a tolbooth and a merkat (market) cross. We will come to the kirk, I know nothing of the merkat cross, but the tolbooth, originally a council meeting chamber, court house and jail but now a heritage and arts centre, stands on the High Street as it has done since the early 1400s. Obviously the current building is at least 300 years younger than that.

Lanark Tolbooth

Nearby, is one of Scotland’s few remaining Provost’s Lamps. The lamps were traditionally placed outside the home of the Provost (Mayor) and this one dates from the 1890s. It is no longer peripatetic, I presume the current Provost of South Lanarkshire (Ian McAllan at time of visit) provides his own illumination.

The provost's Lamp, Lanark

The parish church of St Nicholas stands at the end of the High Street. A chapel existed on this site in the 13th century, but the current building dates from the 1740s although the interior is 19th century. The church claims to have the world’s oldest bell, founded in 1110 (and recast 1659, 1740 and 1830). The clock on the tower dates from 1744 and the 2.4m high statue in the niche (by Thomas Forrest in 1817) is of William Wallace…

St Nicholas Parish Church, Lanark - we lunched beneath the umbrellas to the left

Old Stuff and William Wallace

.,,,and Wallace links the new(ish) to the older stuff.

Near the church, a plaque claims to mark the marital home of William Wallace. It also records that ‘it was in Lanark in 1297 that Wallace first drew sword to free his native land.’

William Wallace plaque, Lanark

That sword was drawn in the so-called ‘Action at Lanark.’ The only existing account was written by Thomas Grey, whose father, another Thomas Grey, had been present. He wrote (in Anglo-Norman French) that a fracas broke out at a court being held by [William] Heselrig, [Sherrif of Lanark], but Wallace was able to escape with help from a girl who may have been his wife. He then came back with some supporters and attacked Heselrig and his men, killed Heselrig, nearly killed Thomas Grey senior, and set fire to some houses. (The Douglas archives).

The action may have been an isolated incident but was probably part of a co-ordinated uprising against Edward I’s appointees being in positions of power in southern Scotland.

The site of Wallace’s marital home, if such it was, looks somewhat banal today. Traditionally his wife was called Marion Braidfute (renamed Murron MacClannough in the film Braveheart) but her name comes from The Wallace an epic poem written by a minstrel known as ‘Blind Harry’ around 1477 and not noted for historical accuracy. According to Blind Harry, Wallace’s attacked Heselrig in revenge for Heselrig killing Marion Braidfute. There is no record of a Braidfute family in the area, nor of William Wallace’s marriage.

The prosaic site of the William Wallace plaque, Lanark

Although Wallace was a member of the minor nobility nothing is known of his youth - even his father’s name is disputed - but he became a leader of the subsequent uprising. It started well with a victory over King Edward's forces at Stirling Bridge in November 1297, followed by some knightly fun, raiding in northern England. Edward regrouped and in July 1298 won a decisive victory at Falkirk. Wallace decamped to the continent for a few years, returned, was captured and executed in 1305 by being hanged, drawn and quartered, a barbarous punishment, but in keeping with the medieval, if not the modern, view of justice.

Edward died in 1307, his forays into Scotland having little long-term effect. When his son Edward II, took up where dad left off, the result was a catastrophic defeat at Bannockburn (1314).

William Wallace was far more important in legend than he had ever been in life. His effect is still current through the film Braveheart which won many awards, none of them for historical accuracy. Daubing Mel Gibson with woad (1,000 years too late) and dressing him in a tartan kilt (500 years too early) are among the least of its calumnies.

When in Lanark, Wallace would have worshipped at the Church of St Kentigern. Tradition says the church was founded by the saint himself in 603, though it first appears in the historical record in 1150. It is now a ruin standing at a corner of Lanark’s exceptional large graveyard. It is an elegant ruin; the pointed Gothic arches being 12th century at the earliest.

St Kentigern's Church, Lanark

The Romans built a fortification on high ground on the east bank of the Clyde. Several centuries later King David I used the same strategic point to build the castle around which his new Royal Burgh would grow.

Lanark Castle - eagle-eyed readers will spot that it is not there, but it used to be

Having just re-encountered the beginning, I shall, as promised, stop. But first...

Dinner at the Inn on the Loch

After a hard day’s touristing, dinner without a couple of beers or a bottle of wine is unthinkable. To avoid drinking and driving, the only choice was to return to the Inn on the Loch, which was no great hardship.

The Inn on the Loch, Lanark

With no football that required watching we arrived later and lingered longer. Our final day in Scotland ended with a small glass (or two) of malt – Speyburn, since you asked – and the feeling that we should return, sooner rather than later.

Scotland 2021

Part 1 Edinburgh (1): The Castle and National Museum
Part 2 Edinburgh (2): The Royal Yacht and the Royal Mile
Part 3 Moray (1) Forres
Part 4 Moray (2) Elgin and Craigellachie
Part 5 Fort George and Brodie Castle
Part 6 Lanark, New and Old