Ashridge Volunteers

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Farmers do not normally suffer from hayfever, but they do suffer a state of nervous excitement this time of year when contemplating their hay harvest hoping that the the weather will stay dry for the period – no problem this year. Then there are the horse-flies to contend with appearing at harvest time – they take chunks out of you when they bite.    
Meadleys meadow has now been cut ready for the “big camp” weekend.
The hay crop has languished this year because of the drought – too dry for horse fodder making them cough so it will be processed for silage to feed to cattle in the winter time – stored in an airtight silo. The hesston bales wrapped in plastic can stand in the field for days awaiting collection. Remarkably the seventeen acre field has seen over seven hundred harvests in it’s time, first mentioned in 1315 – always a hay meadow and never ploughed, cut with a scythe by Irish day-labourers in the 19th century and before that by the village people for the deer in the Park when it was enclosed.
It is lovely to see the occasional buzzard or a wake of red kites which now follow the cutter picking up the carrion as the tractor covers the field – thirty years ago the raptors were not around in the Chilterns but red kite numbers have increased exponentially over the years.
When Stubbs painted his “Haymakers” in 1785, the vast majority of the population lived in the countryside. Agricultural practices have changed beyond recognition but farming, as then is still governed by the seasons. Agricultural life was made up of long hours of slow repetitive labour, followed by evenings of long hours of companionable conversation, either in the cottage or at the ale-house. Meadleys is in the parish of Aldbury and it must be remembered that the very existence of the village was to produce food – the village was a human community that lived in association with itself, not as it is today.
The 1785 painting depicts a bucolic scene showing the fashion of the time when people always wore shoes despite the dirty conditions, unless they rode a horse, when they wore boots. Everyone wore a wig called a peruque, from the youngest child to the farm labourer, along with the ubiquitous hat.
Over on the eighty acre Northchurch common the grass still stands waiting for the cutter when it will just be left to lie. Because of the high incidence of dog poo containing E-coli bacteria harmful to livestock, it cannot be baled for fodder!

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It’s the time of year when we really notice the strength of the sun. Scorchio weather dates back to the 1990’s in the BBC comedy the Fast Show with Caroline Aherne, when it was always scorching hot like today.

If it is still hot and dry on Sunday 15^th which is St Swithun’s day then according to tradition we will have another forty days of drought. The wall-to-wall sunshine is too hot to handle – when will it all end? The forecast is certainly for the heat-wave to continue until August.

The continuing hot weather is caused by an extensive area of high pressure lingering over the UK. The last memorable heat-wave was in 1976 with temperatures over 32C for fifteen consecutive days. A temperature of 35.6C was recorded on 28^th June that year in Southampton which remains the UK’ s June record, while a temperature of 35.9C occurred in Cheltenham on July 3^rd. The merciless heat has prompted warnings from health authorities urging the public to to take care in potentially “dangerous” conditions. The Meteorological Office issue Heat Health Alerts requiring social and health care services to target specific action for high risk groups – if you are elderly stay indoors.

At Ashridge the hill cattle are suffering from a lack of piped water, the disposable barbeques have been burning holes in the turf, the ponds are drying up causing stress for the wildlife, and the hay crop is languishing in the meadow. Even the thermals are in a state of turbulence dumping a glider in the trees! There is an ever present fire risk and all fires and barbecues have been banned – broken glass lying in the grass can magnify the heat and cause combustion. Hopefully the volunteer litter pickers will have taken out most of the problem.

On the hills the green grasses have bleached to blonde, but the wild flowers like the knapweeds and thyme are loving it!

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The Trust are hoping to attract volunteers to the plant nursery at the Estate Office to propagate and raise tree seedlings for planting out on the Estate.
Some three years ago Ashridge volunteers collected cuttings of box from ancient trees on the Estate to restore the tree to the chalk hills – this was part of a lottery funded project run by the Chilterns AONB.
The box bush which is commonplace in gardens being used for hedges and topiary, is native to the chalk downlands of the Chilterns. Above the “White Lion” chalk figure at Whipsnade was a place called Boxtead in the 1830’s, but it is long gone as is the local box. In 1787 a certain Mr Woodward when recording trees in the Chilterns mentioned the box – “plenty on the hills near Dunstable”. The wood which is very dense and will not float, is very slow growing and was sought out by the commoners as a fuel since it gives off a very intense heat. There are some surviving strongholds of box bushes in the Chilterns at Wendover Woods and Great Kimble, but only relic outliers at Ashridge. However the Estate can boast that it retains some of the largest and oldest living box bushes in England, with a girth of thirty eight inches or ninety seven centimetres at the base, making them over four hundred years old – the oldest trees on the Estate! Since they grow in a sensitive area in Aldbury parish, the location is not disclosed. The Chiltern Preservation Board, through their “box project”, aim to reintroduce the box bush to Ashridge and Whipsnade.

Today the only example of box visible to the Ashridge visitor is in the Coombe where it was planted about 1656, in rows to create hedges to provide cover for the coneys being reared in the rabbit warren – despite being coppiced over the centuries, the hedges still remain.
It was a prized timber in the 1700’s, used for musical instruments, bobbins and chess pieces, but mainly for use in printing blocks. Engravers relied upon the box wood to create the illustrations in old books and manuscripts. In was also used locally for the rollers in the hand machines used for creating straw plait, the mainstay of the local hat industry in the 18th and 19th centuries. Nowadays the box bush is under threat from a number of “imported” pests and diseases. 
The fifty or so box cuttings which were taken in 2015 were despatched to the NT plant conservation centre at a secretive location in deepest Devon – this is the only property which the Trust don’t want you to visit! The centre is dedicated to protecting the rare and historically significant plants found in the Trust’s gardens. The cuttings were propagated and sent to the Hughenden plant nursery for growing on and are probably now ready for planting out, as and when Ashridge can prepare a suitable site.
More work for the volunteers.

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In recent weeks the volunteers have been deployed at Ashridge College to work on the hallowed turf as landscape gardeners – a delightful change of scene. The manicured gardens designed in the Picturesque style need a helping hand to prepare for the upcoming guided tours at the end of July. Summer maintenance involves weeding, watering and window dressing like the dead-heading of faded blooms – tedious work but inspiring in such a setting.

The present garden setting dates back some two hundred years to the time of the building of the new mansion in 1813. Designed by Humphry Repton a follower of Capability Brown, there were originally fifteen separate layouts in the ninety acres – a winter garden, monk’s garden, rosary and an American garden. Repton died in 1818 and much of his design was implemented by Wyatville his successor at Ashridge – his 200^th anniversary is being celebrated with a new publication along with lectures at the College.

Some of the garden features like the original monk’s garden, were swept away over the years to make way for more fashionable styles, but the setting remains as the best representation of a Repton masterpiece in Hertfordshire – avoiding the Victorian’s desecration of earlier period styles. The monk’s garden now depicts in flora the coat of arms of the family through the ages, and the rose garden is planted up with old fashioned roses in the family colours.

Every age develops its special fashions in garden planning and ornamentation, which reflect the social tastes of the times and ambitions of the owners. The 7^th Earl of Bridgewater (1803-1823), who had a soldierly passion for tidiness, maintained a huge force of men to care for his gardens, and the 3^rd Earl Brownlow (1867-1921) employed thirty six gardeners before the 1^st World War. Today with the aid of modern machinery and some volunteering help, the College manages with numbers in single figures. The huge tubs of plants brought from the conservatory onto the terraces for the summer season stood like sentries watching the family entertaining their guests or just having tea or playing croquet. These lent an air of dignity, matching the formality of an age in which to hurry over anything seemed to be rather bad form. Today we have managed to adapt to the faster, more brittle pattern of living so it is reassuring that gardens such as this can offer an ambience of spiritual refreshment with their sense of order and sequence. The gardens are certainly less formal than in Victorian or Edwardian times – the stone statues and classical vases acquired during the 19^th century were sold off to pay for the death duties of 1921, but they are now due to be replaced as part of a restoration plan requiring funding to the tune of £750,000. There is much work on the horizon and volunteer involvement is a distinct possibility.

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A constellation of wild flowers is now in bloom on the hills. The volunteers have cleaned the jewel in the crown of Ashridge, the Beacon Hills by removing the aftermath of last years flowering along with the course grasses from the regular strimming of the sward, allowing the flowers to display their charm. You don’t have to have a specific interest in flowers, simply the ability to enjoy their beauty and the countryside in which they thrive.

The new foliage has lost it’s spring freshness, and summer’s maturity is in deepening greens replacing the delicate shades or bright gloss of adolescence. The spring flowers have vanished, many of the autumn blossoms are not yet in bud , but the summer flowers – typical of maturity , like youth and maidens who have left youth behind – are everywhere. When grass is short and undergrowth scanty. Look out for the eyebrights, the milkworts, cinquefoils, bedstraws, daisies, thistles and of course the orchids. There are over sixty species of wild flowers to be found in season and there is the temptation to pick them which is frowned upon – unless you are a young lass picking a posy according to Plantlife.

Where the flowers are plentiful the sward is not grazed by sheep or cattle for at least eight weeks between May and August to allow the plants to flower and set seed for the following year. Most of the aftermath is grazed in the Autumn and Winter, the sheep preferring the plants while the cattle take out the grass. The flowers are mainly perennial coming up every year although the orchids are temperamental. Most flowers are classed as herbs, being used for culinary and medicinal purposes in past centuries by the country folk, and many are poisonous. More recently during the second World War the hips on the dog roses were collected for Government use because of their high vitamin C content. 

Unusual names abound like squinancywort, ploughmans spikenard, restharrow, devil’s bit scabious, yellow rattle, and many have localised country names. Rarities include the pasque flower, early gentian and fleawort.

The stocking density of animals influences the condition of the hillsides where over-grazing leads to nutrient enrichment with an increase in “weeds” and a loss of flowers.

The volunteers will be back later in the year to do their bit climbing the steep hillsides, forgetting the health and safety brigade, to clean up for another season of flowering for everyone and forever.

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The Alford cross is really an Ashridge artefact despite the fact that it stands outside the Park boundary in Little Gaddesden parish. Erected in 1891 to commemorate the life of of an aristocratic landlady who influenced the life of many workers on the Estate for some twenty years, it has recently had a makeover. Removing the decades of grime has brought it back to life, and the seating and water troughs for both horse and dog are now more apparent. It was built in the days of horse-drawn vehicles and working dogs.

The long reign of the Bridgewaters began to peter out in 1823 with the death of John William the 7th Earl who built the present house. He left his estate to Lord Alford, who succeeded in 1849 for just two years with his wife Lady Marian. Their young son, after complex legal wrangling, became 2nd Earl Brownlow in 1853, when he was twelve years old, and his mother remained his guardian and in effect, the manager of the estate, until 1867. She kept a journal which provides an insight into the aristocratic view of natural landscape, and in 1854 she reported that a deputation from the town had visited her, expressing their wish to have the Berkhamsted beech woods and commons grubbed up for cultivation. By 1863 she effected, on her son’s behalf, the purchase from the Duchy of Cornwall the entire Manor of Berkhamsted, including the common and all rights over it, for £144,546. She was then instrumental in the unsuccessful enclosure in 1866 of some four hundred acres of the common for inclusion in the Park, and later published a detailed explanation for this high-handed and illegal land-grab.

Lady Marian was an accomplished amateur artist and a generous patron of the arts in both England and Italy, where she was born in 1817 and spent most of her early years. Her appreciation of classical art was reflected in the interior decoration of Ashridge House as well as the Italiante garden. She had an especial interest in needlework and in 1886 she published a comprehensive treatise on the subject entitled ‘Needlework as art’. It was also largely owing to Lady Marian’s efforts that the Royal School of Art Needlework was founded in Kensington. Her numerous good works at Ashridge had included the design and building of almshouses and the provision of a water supply to the Estate cottages as early as 1858.
When her second son Adelbert succeeded to the title in 1867 she effectively left Ashridge and led a social life in London. In society she was one of the most noted conversationalists of her day and at Alford House, her lavish and ornate London home which she had built in 1872, she often played host to members of the royal family like the Prince of Wales and leading politicians like Disraeli, and Gladstone. She had presented her sons to the Queen in 1870, and was upset that her second son Adelbert was not given a post in the Salisbury government.

By 1873 she was already concerned about her mounting debts and her extravagant entertaining and liberal support for the arts forced her to sell Alford House in 1887, and in her final year she spent her time at Ashridge with Adelbert, where she died in 1888. So ended the life of an aristocratic visionary talent who achieved a lot in her time but was petulant if things did not work out as expected.
She is one of the “Voices” featured in the present exhibition in the Visitor Centre – women who have shaped the Ashridge estate.

Credits to Richard Mabey

“Sumer is icumen in” according to the old folk song, so that is when we head for the beach nowadays – over one hundred and fifty N T properties are adjacent to beaches and the Trust rely on an army of volunteers to keep them clear of litter and preserve a pristine place. Brancaster and Blakeney, Dunwich Heath, Isle of Wight, Studland Bay, and Bedruthan Steps to name just a few.
Should you find yourself this summer on the sand or shingle of a National Trust beach or any other beach for that matter, why not spend two minutes – just two minutes – picking up the flotsam and jetsam. If every visitor spent just two minutes of their time collecting three pieces of rubbish the beach would soon be returned to the pristine condition that nature intended. The problem is that the tide of litter returns every twelve hours.
The Environment Agency (EA) has now said that more than four hundred beaches will be checked weekly in a bid to tackle the “scourge” of discarded plastic. A new unit will log data from water sampling teams around England about the amount and type of plastic found. This should identify the worst-hit beaches and use the findings to better regulate the problem. They will then liaise with community groups and non- government organisations, or local companies to alleviate the problem. The EA’s dedicated monitoring group was formed after a £750,000 investment in tackling plastic pollution was announced by the Government in January.
We do like to be beside the sea-side, and no one lives more than seventy five miles from the sea in the U K, and a stroll on the prom or a walk on the beach is one of those simple pleasures which can reduce the stress in our lives.

Happy holidays.

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The grass had been cut on Monument Green, the weather was in fine fetal, the tables were laid out and there were great expectations for a good days trading at the Plant Fair which coincided with the start of the Chelsea Flower Show.

From humble beginnings some twenty years ago when there were just a cluster of tables at the foot of the Monument – sold out within two hours – the week-end before last saw another successful event, although takings were down on the previous year.

On the Saturday the staff put in a shift to move the plants from their winter quarters at the College to be laid out on the Green. The local Scouts were prepared for their night-time vigil guarding the stock, and as barrow-boys on the Sunday. Sarah organised the event for the second time and there were the usual stalwarts like Janet and Ray, apart from whom there were only a few recognisable volunteers – mainly the plant sellers who donate their time and plants to Ashridge.

Plant fairs have been a cultural event since the sixties when gardening first took off in suburbia and outdoor eating became part of the lifestyle. Bedding and rose growing was universally popular at the time, but fashions have changed with the abundance of new plants and varieties available.

The first garden centre to open selling container plants was in 1954 in Ferndown, Dorset, and nearer to home Frosts Garden Centre in Woburn converted in 1962 from a nursery where plants were lifted from the ground from October to March.

The first plant containers were recycled biscuit tins – good for the environment but devilish difficult to remove the plants. Then the ubiquitous plastic plant pot arrived which turned out to be a problem for recycling – the N T are looking at ways and means of replacing them in their garden centres before 2022 by which time they aim to be plastic free.

As with regular markets, popularity powered by public sentiment determines the future of annual fairs. Once a decline sets in it is very difficult to reverse the trend which can be self perpetuating and is evident today on our high streets. Like any retail offer the sales environment needs to be fresh and relevant, and advertised just to keep going. It was the Daily Telegraph who first promoted plant fairs with funding over a five year period, but when the funding finished so did a lot of the fairs.

Long live the fair!

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aid-up members of the National Trust get an unguided tour of the landscape when visiting Ashridge – unless there are volunteer rangers on hand to spread the word. Visitors like to head for the hills to get the extensive views over the Aylesbury plain and are generally unaware of the flora and fauna that surrounds them, or the valuable work carried out by the volunteers to maintain a timeless landscape. No sooner than they leave the comfort of the car they are mesmerised by the sudden widening – and wilding – of the landscape. On a spring day the fresh green shades of the Coombe contrast stunningly with a clear blue sky, while in a summer heat-wave the freshness of the air on the Beacon is something to rejoice, along with the flowers and butterflies. In autumn it is the vista of the rusty orange hues which delight. And in winter it is not unusual for the ground to be blanketed in snow. It is their membership fees which pay for the upkeep of the habitat.

People like a walk on the wild side. They return with the expectation and subsequent relief that the hills are the same as they were when they last visited – forever and for everyone.

On a clear day at the summit they are treated to a 180 degree vista of an ever changing landscape up to thirty miles away. The Aylesbury vale scenery changes year on year with blots on the landscape. The loss of a Didcot power station over there and a Pitstone cement works here, replaced by an Ivinghoe solar farm here gleaming in the sunshine, and a lone statuesque wind turbine over there at Heath and Reach.

Apart from some soil erosion caused by the ever present walkers, the hills have not changed in over two thousand years, since the time of the Anglo Saxons when they occupied the hill fort on the Beacon in the iron age. George Bernard Shaw the writer thought it a bad idea for travellers to return to a once favoured spot because it would have changed for the worst, and they would be disappointed – not so with the Ivinghoe hills.

The hills have always been a sheep walk creating a fine sward, and there would have been some cows too. Being part of the extensive Ivinghoe common the local villagers were allowed to graze livestock there in the summer time, known as transhumance. Now that the cattle are back after a short absence the regular scene has been restored. The cattle today are the Lincoln Red Shorthorns, one of the oldest native breeds of beef cattle – a bit more frisky than the departed Belted Galloways.

Around the 1750’s the arable land east of Piccadilly Hill in the Coombe which can be seen today, was carved out of the common land. Fields were much smaller then  and they each had a name so that workers knew where to go to cultivate. Two of the fields were named “Horse race piece”, confirming that there was an early race course on the common before cultivation took place. Truly a place for everyone on the hills!

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he Trust, supported by the volunteers are regularly rooting out alien invaders in the form of plants that have been dumped, planted or spread from other areas. This is what the Trust is all about – restoration in the raw. Recently volunteers have been removing garden daffodils from Water End, Spanish bluebells from within the heart of the Estate at Woodyard Cottage, and garden archangel from Northchurch and Frithsden. The Estate can boast about the real deal – native daffodils at Frithsden, yellow archangel at Toms Hill, and a thousand acres of native bluebells.
So far there have been no reports of Himalayan balsam which is regularly found invading water courses like the river Gade at Water End, but it’s cousin the small balsam can be found regularly at Ashridge. It is a widespread nuisance carpeting the woodland floor and shading out the native wild flowers and requires a lot of man-power to take down before it seeds – it is an annual. Emily has this on her wish list for this year following some successful trials.
The Trust is always on the look-out for new invaders like ash die-back which thankfully now seems to be abating, but only recently a highly poisonous plant turned up at Frithsden – the Monkshood, a native plant but not for Ashridge. This one is a garden variety discarded by an irresponsible neighbour, since it spreads and is a silent killer – looks pretty but must not be handled under any circumstances. It contains a fast acting poison used in the past for tipping arrow heads, and there is no known antidote – not one for the volunteers!
Ashridge often presents itself as a suitable outlet for the dumping of unwanted possessions. Two years ago a family of pot-bellied pigs turned up on Aldbury common looking for a new home, having outgrown their old place and had to be rescued and rehoused!