Rural Nottinghamshire - Teversal
Mar 27, 2012 13:58:23 GMT
Post by onlymark on Mar 27, 2012 13:58:23 GMT
"England's green & pleasant Land"
William Blake
Rural Nottinghamshire - Teversal
Some time ago I did a thread on a village near where I used to live that had fallen on hard times since the demise of the mining industry. It showed the more gritty and rougher side of the area that I was brought up in, and so used to. In contrast, just over a mile or so away is a far more pleasant experience of life. One thing about the area is that you don't have to go far to get a change of scenery.
I'd like to give you a little tour of a village called Teversal.
The suffix 'tal' is old Saxon meaning mansion, palace or hall. Thus you'd expect to find something like that in the village – and there is, but it is small and only could just be classified as a manor house. However, it is reputably the place of Lady Chatterley by D.H. Lawrence, a relatively local lad.
The area was at one time owned by the Molyneux family and later the Earl of Carnarvon – he being associated with Howard Carter and curses and Tutankhamun.
As you would expect the village has been around for many centuries, was mentioned in the Doomsday Book and probably began life as a couple of farms.
It is still separated from urban sprawl, yet due to the railway line that connected several coal mines which passes nearby, was easily accessible to me after a short walk along the old line. It was here that I used to court several girlfriends on warm summer weekends to get away from the work in the mines and factories.
One slightly strange thing though is that there isn't a pub in the village. The nearest one is out on the main road about half a mile away.
Anyway, coming up the hill from the old railway track up to it -
The layout centres around the small manor house and church and is more or less rectangular because of the fields surrounding it. The fields would have been set out to conform to the land laws at the time and enclosed, often forming square corners that the track, later to be the road, had to follow.
I'm not an expert but it's my impression that layouts of villages in the UK, as opposed to, say, France, were determined by this enclosure of the fields (by Act of Parliament), this resulting in the main road often zig zagging through it rather than straight through it as in many French villages.
So, at the beginning of the village are several footpaths disappearing over the gentle hills -
Pass by the overflow graveyard in a separate field -
As the road bends past and around the houses the path goes straight on(ish) -
We come to St Katherine's church -
St. Katherine was an Egyptian Princess (another Egypt connection, me, Earl of Canarvon and now this) who was martyred for her Christian beliefs aged just eighteen. The first attempt to execute her on a wheel failed when the wheel was split by a bolt of lightning, this is the origin of the "Catherine Wheel" firework apparently.
It's a basic Norman English no nonsense church dating from the 12 century and has parish records and lists of the Rectors since 1230AD.
Inside was unfortunately locked but I know from previous visits that it is relatively unadorned and robust in decoration.
To get there we have to go through a 'kissing gate', which was much to my delight when I brought girlfriends for a look round. They weren't ever sure though if my definition of it was correct (couples must always kiss when passing through), but they played along anyway.
A view of the church (built more like a fort than anything too churchy) -
Into the graveyard -
A few wild flowers abound -
More -
A bit sad and neglected -
But there was still room, no matter the overflow graveyard, to plant a few bodies now cremations are more the thing -
Moving on to the church itself -
For some reason the sundial wasn't in the sun!?
More (including the broken clock) -
A top the church -
The only semi-ornate thing was through this gate, the main entrance -
Moving around the village you can see where the posh people lived – or at least down their driveways -
We call first to have a quick look at -
Down their driveway -
Past their old 'carriage garage' -
Make note that things have not changed over the years – deliveries round the back -
And a glimpse of Lady Chatterley anywhere? -
So we turn and take a picturesque wander through the rest of the village making note of the houses/cottages.
(Anyone who went to school in the UK remember learning about Window Taxes?) -
Moving on -
I think we must be in England -
The old workers' cottages -
Then to -
Chantry is the English term for a fund established to pay for a priest to celebrate sung Masses for a specified purpose, generally for the soul of the deceased donor. Chantries were endowed with lands given by donors, the income from which maintained the chantry priest. A chantry chapel is a building on private land or a dedicated area within a greater church, set aside or built especially for and dedicated to the performance of the chantry duties by the priest. A chantry may have only an altar rather than a chapel, within a larger church, generally dedicated to the donor's favourite saint.
More -
Obviously a farming village -
These holes were used (I suspect) for doves -
Harry Potter anyone? -
Ye Olde Worlde lampost -
For strangers in the area -
And then a last view of the church as I depart -
And there you have it (especially for the none Ukers), a typical bucolic English working village centuries old with a usual connection (however remote) to at least one famous person.
Lovely.
William Blake
Rural Nottinghamshire - Teversal
Some time ago I did a thread on a village near where I used to live that had fallen on hard times since the demise of the mining industry. It showed the more gritty and rougher side of the area that I was brought up in, and so used to. In contrast, just over a mile or so away is a far more pleasant experience of life. One thing about the area is that you don't have to go far to get a change of scenery.
I'd like to give you a little tour of a village called Teversal.
The suffix 'tal' is old Saxon meaning mansion, palace or hall. Thus you'd expect to find something like that in the village – and there is, but it is small and only could just be classified as a manor house. However, it is reputably the place of Lady Chatterley by D.H. Lawrence, a relatively local lad.
The area was at one time owned by the Molyneux family and later the Earl of Carnarvon – he being associated with Howard Carter and curses and Tutankhamun.
As you would expect the village has been around for many centuries, was mentioned in the Doomsday Book and probably began life as a couple of farms.
It is still separated from urban sprawl, yet due to the railway line that connected several coal mines which passes nearby, was easily accessible to me after a short walk along the old line. It was here that I used to court several girlfriends on warm summer weekends to get away from the work in the mines and factories.
One slightly strange thing though is that there isn't a pub in the village. The nearest one is out on the main road about half a mile away.
Anyway, coming up the hill from the old railway track up to it -
The layout centres around the small manor house and church and is more or less rectangular because of the fields surrounding it. The fields would have been set out to conform to the land laws at the time and enclosed, often forming square corners that the track, later to be the road, had to follow.
I'm not an expert but it's my impression that layouts of villages in the UK, as opposed to, say, France, were determined by this enclosure of the fields (by Act of Parliament), this resulting in the main road often zig zagging through it rather than straight through it as in many French villages.
So, at the beginning of the village are several footpaths disappearing over the gentle hills -
Pass by the overflow graveyard in a separate field -
As the road bends past and around the houses the path goes straight on(ish) -
We come to St Katherine's church -
St. Katherine was an Egyptian Princess (another Egypt connection, me, Earl of Canarvon and now this) who was martyred for her Christian beliefs aged just eighteen. The first attempt to execute her on a wheel failed when the wheel was split by a bolt of lightning, this is the origin of the "Catherine Wheel" firework apparently.
It's a basic Norman English no nonsense church dating from the 12 century and has parish records and lists of the Rectors since 1230AD.
Inside was unfortunately locked but I know from previous visits that it is relatively unadorned and robust in decoration.
To get there we have to go through a 'kissing gate', which was much to my delight when I brought girlfriends for a look round. They weren't ever sure though if my definition of it was correct (couples must always kiss when passing through), but they played along anyway.
A view of the church (built more like a fort than anything too churchy) -
Into the graveyard -
A few wild flowers abound -
More -
A bit sad and neglected -
But there was still room, no matter the overflow graveyard, to plant a few bodies now cremations are more the thing -
Moving on to the church itself -
For some reason the sundial wasn't in the sun!?
More (including the broken clock) -
A top the church -
The only semi-ornate thing was through this gate, the main entrance -
Moving around the village you can see where the posh people lived – or at least down their driveways -
We call first to have a quick look at -
Down their driveway -
Past their old 'carriage garage' -
Make note that things have not changed over the years – deliveries round the back -
And a glimpse of Lady Chatterley anywhere? -
So we turn and take a picturesque wander through the rest of the village making note of the houses/cottages.
(Anyone who went to school in the UK remember learning about Window Taxes?) -
Moving on -
I think we must be in England -
The old workers' cottages -
Then to -
Chantry is the English term for a fund established to pay for a priest to celebrate sung Masses for a specified purpose, generally for the soul of the deceased donor. Chantries were endowed with lands given by donors, the income from which maintained the chantry priest. A chantry chapel is a building on private land or a dedicated area within a greater church, set aside or built especially for and dedicated to the performance of the chantry duties by the priest. A chantry may have only an altar rather than a chapel, within a larger church, generally dedicated to the donor's favourite saint.
More -
Obviously a farming village -
These holes were used (I suspect) for doves -
Harry Potter anyone? -
Ye Olde Worlde lampost -
For strangers in the area -
And then a last view of the church as I depart -
And there you have it (especially for the none Ukers), a typical bucolic English working village centuries old with a usual connection (however remote) to at least one famous person.
Lovely.
. (I was originally a Mcr girl ( MCFC) ... and my husband is from Notts ... (Forest now but originally the Magpies), just in case you are wondering .. )