Day 32. The Marriage Certificate

 

In 1754, Hardwicke's Marriage Act was passed. This introduced strict regulations on the performance of weddings and was intended to tackle the scandal of clandestine marriages.

A wedding could take place anywhere, with no notice and no witnesses. There was no minimum age for marriage and it was common for young girls or boys with good connections and good money to be coerced into marriage by the family of the other party, without the knowledge or consent of their own family. Others were seduced into a hasty and regretted marriage by professions of love. Among the higher tiers of society, the marriage of one's sons, daughters, sisters and sometimes even widowed mothers was strategically planned, sometimes years in advance, for the best political and monetary advancement of the family. No wonder that people would use any means they could to secure the marriage they desired.

The Marriage Act decreed that a wedding could only be held after the publication of Banns – the forthcoming marriage was announced in both parties' parish church on three consecutive Sundays, so any objections could be made. In some circumstances a licence could be applied for instead. Marriages could only be performed by a Church of England clergyman, excepting Jewish and Quaker weddings; minors needed parental consent; and witnesses were required for the marriage to be valid. All this information had to be laboriously recorded in the parish registers, along with the signatures or marks of both parties and the witnesses.

This remains in place today, although the rules regarding the clergy and the location have now been relaxed.

Day 31. A Childhood Tragedy

Following on from yesterday's post, we shall now look at a tragic but very common occurrence.

On 20^th January 1839, ten-day-old George Gurling was buried at Preston. Within a fortnight, four more babies had died in the village. Four others would die within the next three months. The infant mortality rate in Preston during the 1830s was usually one or two deaths per year.

 

All the children were from labouring families. The labourer's cottages in the village at this time were dilapidated, unsanitary and overcrowded. During winter, living conditions would be deplorable. The sudden spate of deaths suggests an infectious illness – something barely understood even by medical professionals – probably exacerbated by the poor living conditions. Infections such as measles, scarlet fever, dysentery, whooping cough and dozens more besides frequently rampaged through impoverished communities.

 

The death certificates of month-old Constance Bromwich and six-week-old Emma Hicks gave no cause of death. The cause of four-month-old Hannah Rouse's death was recorded as 'debility'.

Civil registration was in its infancy, and deaths did not yet have to be 'certified' by a coroner or medical professional. Each of these deaths was registered by the child's father, who simply didn't know why his child had died. A doctor was unaffordable to these impoverished families; district nurses were several decades in the future. Medical care was down to the sick person's family, who could probably ill afford even a bucket of coal to keep their weakening child warm, and could do little more than helplessly watch their life slip away.

 

The illness gradually ran its course. Probably many more children were affected but managed to stave off the infection, and natural immunity caused it to die out. All that remained of its occurrence are the sad entries in the burial book.  The  name of the illness, we shall never know.

Day 30. The Font

The baptismal font of Preston church probably dates to the 18^th century, and has seen the baptisms of two thousand or so of Preston's residents, most of them babies.

An unusual entry in the baptism register states that:

Jacob Taplin, an elderly person, was baptised on February 26^th 1809.
Jacob had married in Preston church in 1762 and his many children were baptised there, so his lack of baptism wasn't known to the church authorities. Perhaps he didn't know himself. Somehow his secret was discovered, and with eternal torment weighing on his mind – according to Christian doctrine, only those who have been baptised can enter heaven – he put matters straight. He received his Christian burial less than two years later.

Babies were baptised within a week or so of birth, even when they appeared healthy and strong. Childhood infectious diseases claimed the lives of up to one in five children before their fifth birthday. A sickly baby would be baptised immediately after birth, often by the midwife who was licensed to perform emergency baptisms.

A forename or 'Christian' name was only given at baptism; those who died unbaptised were named simply as 'infant' in burial registers and other documentation. Charlotte Bailey, whose sad story was told yesterday, had been baptised the day after her birth, which meant she could receive a Christian burial and gain a place in heaven. 

Unbaptised babies were buried outside consecrated ground and were condemned to an eternity in limbo, although sometimes the tiny body would be hidden inside an adult's coffin to receive a Christian burial.

Reverend J. Harvey Bloom was rector of Whitchurch in the early 20^th century. His daughter Ursula, author of his biography Parson Extraordinary, wrote how Harvey once received an urgent summons. A baby, newly born across the valley, was not expected to live and needed baptising at once.

The Stour was in spate and the roads were submerged in torrential flood waters. Harvey requisitioned a carter to drive him through. The man reached the edge of the water and would go no further. It was simply too dangerous.

Harvey was furious. No danger was too great when an innocent's soul was at stake. He seized the reins and forced the cart through the waters himself.

The baby lived.

Day 29. Birth and Death

One of the biggest influences on the development of the modern world was our advancing standards of medical care. In previous centuries, people lived much closer to death, which had a great cultural and emotional impact on their way of life. Many parents would have lost a child to a vast array of illnesses; most people would know of a woman who had died as a result of childbirth; accidents and injuries claimed the lives of many working men. It is difficult to imagine today, what it was like to live with death just around any corner.

 

These adjacent entries in the Preston burial book illustrate an all-too-common tragedy. In the 19^th century, around one in two hundred pregnancies resulted in the death of the mother, from either pregnancy or childbirth-related problems. And often the baby that the mother had laboured so long to birth was unlikely to survive long. 

Catherine was the daughter of John and Ann Hone of Preston.  Ann, widowed at 34, ran the bakery at No.50. Catherine married John Barber Bailey, a farm labourer from Wimpstone, aged 23 in 1874.

The couple lived at Wimpstone where their family rapidly expanded. Catherine had eight healthy children within ten years. The family then moved to a cottage at Washbrook Farm in Pillerton Priors. In April 1887, Catherine went into labour with her ninth child.

The delivery was a difficult one. She gave birth on 7^th April, but suffered severe haemorrhaging after the delivery. She died shortly afterwards. She was 36 years old.

Her baby, a daughter named Charlotte, was born alive, but sadly died at three days old. The trauma of the birth had likely been too much for her. Mother and daughter were buried together in Catherine's home village.

John then moved to the village of Newbold Pacey with his large brood. His unmarried sister lived with them as housekeeper. The subsequent fate of the family is unclear.

Day 28. The Warming Pan

 

Few people today can  remember huddling in a cold bed, blankets tucked as tight as possible, trying to get warm enough to sleep on a winter's night. With no central heating and a coal grate in the bedroom only likely in the bigger houses, a cold bed was a normality.

The most basic solution to the problem on the coldest nights was a brick,  heated in the fire and left under the covers for a while before bedtime.

Stone hot-water bottles were also available, and wealthier households could afford a warming pan. These became increasingly common during the 20^th century. They were filled with hot coals from the fire, the lid carefully sealed and then left under the blankets to make a cosy bed.

Many people still have them, hanging up as household ornaments.

Day 27. The Candlestick Holder

Electric lighting was installed in the majority of houses in Preston in the 1950s, although some of the wealthier houses had installed electricity as far back as the 1930s. Alscot Park had an electricity supply by the 1890s.

Before then, lighting was given by oil lamps, firelight or candles – if such things could be afforded. They all had to be carefully extinguished before going to bed: accidental fires were common.

Last thing at night, a portable candlestick holder lit one's way to bed. This was simply a metal cylinder to hold the candle, a dish to catch drips of wax, and a curved piece to hook over a finger. This daily ritual filtered into popular culture via the nursery rhyme Oranges and Lemons:

 

“Here comes the candle to light you to bed.”

Most children can still recite this line, two generations after the last bedside candle was blown out.

Day 26. Coins of the Realm

                    The familiar coins of the pre-decimal era, in use until 1971.

Money is one of the most important and revealing features of a community. Coinage as a method of payment became popular in Britain during the Roman period. Prior to this, bartering, services or payment in kind was the typical method of settling debts.

The denomination of a coin was once determined by the value of the metal it contained – gold, silver or copper in varying quantities. We still refer to coins as 'silver' or 'coppers' today, even though they now largely comprise base metals. To prevent the surreptitious 'clipping' of the once-valuable metal, at one time a capital offence, the edges of coins were crimped. This is still done today.

Denominations varied from a farthing (a 'fourthing' or quarter of a penny) to a sovereign (thirty shillings). The  notation for 'penny' was 'd'  until decimalisation. This was short for denarius, a Roman coin of a roughly equivalent value. When the British currency was finally decimalised in February 1971 – this had been under debate since 1824 – 'p' for pence was substituted.

A depiction of the monarch has been used on coins since Norman times; the date of coinage was included from the Tudor period. Many coins from the 18^th century onwards depicted the martial figure of Britannia, a symbol of Britain's military power and empire. She remained on the British penny until decimalisation.

 

Old coins found around Preston.

A cartwheel penny of George III, a large, short-lived coin  so-named because of its size (1797); a coin of George IV (1826); a penny of Victoria (1862); a penny of Edward VII (1908); a florin [two shillings] of George V (1920); a farthing of George V (1928); a threepence of George V (1919).

Perhaps they dropped from a worn pocket as a labourer trudged across the fields or farmyards. Perhaps they found their way into household refuse which was scattered on the fields.  And there they remained, for decades or centuries, until they again appeared on the surface.

Day 25. The Post Box

 

From the earliest days, letters were carried across the country by messengers on horseback. By the 16^th century this had evolved into a relay of men and fast horses stationed at strategic 'posts' along principal roads. A regular delivery service was soon set up and mail coaches – with the title 'Royal Mail' painted on the sides – were introduced in 1784.

Only  the wealthier tiers of society, with legal and political concerns, used the costly post service. Literacy rates were low amongst the general population. Many had no reason to leave their communities, and no reason to contact anyone outside them.

In 1840, the postal system was revolutionised. Warwickshire schoolmaster Rowland Hill coined the Penny Post. A pre-purchased adhesive stamp, costing one penny, paid for the delivery of a letter.
Letters and postcards were now sent quickly and cheaply, by all tiers of society. Literacy rates were rising, and many people were leaving their rural homes for towns and cities. They could now send messages home just as we make a phone-call or email today.

Post Offices were set up in communities of modest size – Preston's opened in the 1890s – and the career of 'postman' became a respectable and coveted job.

The red-painted post box followed. That in Preston is inscribed 'GR' – George V's reign [1910-35]. It has stood in several places over its history as the Post Office moved location. Many remember it set into the pillar at the bottom of the steps next to No.28 in the 1960s. It has been in its current position since the 1970s.

Another consequence of the Penny Post was house numbers. Every dwelling  now had to have an individual address to facilitate the delivering of mail. The simplest answer was to give each house a number. Preston's houses were allocated numbers in the late 1850s.

Preston Post Office is now closed, and few letters are posted into the post box. Rowland Hill has served his time, replaced by Sir Tim Berners-Lee, the inventor of the internet, and Mark Zuckerberg, the inventor of Facebook.

Day 24. The Telephone Kiosk

The red telephone box is today a British cultural icon, despite their declining numbers and near-obsolete function. That in Preston is Grade II-listed as of special historical interest.

The telephone was invented by Alexander Graham Bell in 1876. His name survives in popular speech – we still 'give someone a bell' today. The prevalence of the telephone gradually increased, and in 1896 the Post Office acquired the monopoly on its provision. Telephones were installed in the growing network of sub-Post Offices, from which a call could be made or a message left with the Postmaster or mistress, who would deliver it to the appropriate person.

The public telephone kiosk was introduced by the Post Office in 1920. The iconic red colour was derided and many were repainted in a more neutral grey. Several models were developed; that in Preston is the 'K6' model, designed to commemorate the silver jubilee of King George V in 1935. Thousands of these were erected across Britain. That in Preston was placed outside No.10, the Post Office from the 1890s to the 1960s.

 

Private telephones were installed in larger houses from the early 20^th century, and gradually became more common. The use of kiosks accordingly declined.

Today, almost everybody has a landline and a mobile phone, and how many people can remember the last time they used our much loved cultural icon?

 

Day 23. Laundry Day

 

                                 A 'copper' once used for laundry.

The back kitchen of Park Farm. Two vats - one of copper and one of cast iron - were set into brickwork with a fireplace beneath each. The wooden lids covering the copper when not in use can be seen.

The fire was lit on the metal grate and the ashes fell into the pit below. This was extremely efficient - a small fire could easily heat a copper of around forty gallons - as no heat was wasted.

Laundry was done in a scullery or back kitchen in larger houses, or in a communal washhouse. The copper was filled with water drawn from the soft-water well (see Day 18) – rain water produced much superior results than the mineral-laden ground water – and was heated. The laundry was then pummelled and worked in the scalding water until clean. Soap was made with fat and wood ash; by the late 19^th century, soap powder became commercially available.
When clean, the laundry was squeezed through a mangle to remove excess water then hung out to dry on washing lines or on hedgerows or bushes.

An iron – simply a piece of iron with a handle – was heated by the fire ready for use.

Laundry day for a conscientious housewife was always a Monday. It was a full day's work to process it, which left little time for meal preparation. The leftovers from the Sunday roast took care of the day's meals. Women who washed on other days were considered substandard housekeepers.

By the 19^th century, it was common for better-off households to employ a laundry maid or laundress to do the labour-intensive and unpleasant work. Many widows and poorer married women worked as laundresses to earn a few extra shillings towards their family's upkeep.

By the mid 20^th century, labour-saving appliances were becoming commonplace. Today, laundry is a five-minute job which comprises opening and shutting a washing machine door.

Day 22. The Privy

                                           A three-seater privy at Park Farm

Flush toilets arrived in Preston together with the mains water supply in the 1950s. Prior to this, the long trip down the garden to the privy or karzy was necessary. At night, chamberpots or 'potties' kept under the bed were used to save groping one's way around the garden in the dark.

 

Outside the privy                              

Privies comprised a small building containing a wooden seat with a hole. They were usually some distance from the house for sanitary reasons.  Smaller dwellings typically shared one privy; larger houses had their own. Some had two or three seats at varying heights to cater for different members of the household. Elder bushes were often planted outside to deter flies.

Few privies now survive. Often the building remains, now used as a garden shed, as in this example. In other cases, the seats have long since been removed. But an elder bush growing at the door may indicate its former function.

Day 21. The Bread Oven.

The production of our 'daily bread' has been a skilled task for centuries – especially considering the fact that purpose-built ovens, thermostats and thermometers are very recent inventions. Dough could be adequately baked on flat stones in the hearth, but an oven, providing an even temperature on all sides, was far superior. Various versions made of metal, stone or brick were built according to the abilities of individual householders.

Specialised bread ovens were commonly built in houses from the 18^th century. These were built with brick and set into the large open fireplace. In older houses, they were often built into the space where the spiral staircase had stood, after more elaborate straight staircases became fashionable.

The simplest ovens were filled with dry wood which burnt to a high temperature. The ashes were then removed and the bread baked in the still-hot oven. A pinch of flour thrown onto the bricks gauged the temperature, judged by the time taken to turn brown. More elaborate ovens, found in larger houses, had a hearth beneath. This removed the need to rake ashes and there was no possibility of ash and soot adhering to the loaves.

The bread oven in the back kitchen of Park Farm. This had a hearth underneath.

 

In the 19^th century, cooking technology advanced. Modern ranges offered an elaborate array of hot plates, ovens and warming boxes suited to all purposes, and the bread ovens slowly became obsolete. Today they are a quaint decorative feature of period cottages.

Day 20. The Cellar.

Following on from cider-making yesterday, today we will look at the farmhouse cellar.
Most large houses, especially farmhouses, had a cellar where conditions allowed their construction. Sites close to the water table were impractical for cellars which would be regularly flooded.
Cellars were used for brewing cider and ale,  curing meat and often maturing cheese. Their underground location gave a consistently cool temperature. Joints of pork and sides of bacon, produced from the farm's pigs, were cured in large tubs of salt to provide a supply of meat lasting several months. Brewing and curing meat were essential skills on any farm, and were often a woman's job.

                Barrels of fermenting cider. The stone floor and walls kept the temperature constant .

 

The wide steps leading into the cellar, covered by a grating, were used to bring the barrels of cider inside once they were filled. An elaborate system of ropes around a post outside allowed the 55-gallon barrels to be safely lowered down.

Day 19. Cider Making

In 1721 there were fifteen orchards in Preston, belonging mainly to the various farmhouses. Today there is a scant handful of ancient fruit trees in the village.
Apples and pears were the most common fruits grown. Both would store for several months, provided a valuable food resource in winter, and were saleable at urban markets. Soft fruits such as plums were hard to store and even harder to transport, so were less readily grown.

 

 One of the few surviving remnants of a once-common rural feature: the apple orchard. These trees are in The Little Croft (see Day 14).

Apples comprised dessert, cooking and cider varieties. Perry pears were used to make an alcoholic drink similar to cider. Cider and perry-making were key aspects of rural life.

Piped water was not installed in Preston until the 1950s. For centuries, water had been drawn from wells and rivers (see Day 18). The latter especially was often contaminated with harmful bacteria, cholera a prime example. Long before the word 'sterilisation' became a household term, it was believed safer to drink cider or beer. The alcohol, as we know today, destroyed the bacteria.

To produce cider or perry, the fruit was crushed or 'scratted', then the juice was pressed out and fermented for several months in 55-gallon barrels. The fruit was originally scratted using stone wheels driven around a circular trough by horse-power. A steam or petrol-driven scratter was later used. A portable cider mill toured the local farms in the 1930s – cider was doled out to farmworkers as a perk of the job, and every farmer had to make a good supply.

Tapping the cider barrel at Lower Farm, c.1965. Farmworker Ray Beauchamp is watched by John and Harry Smith.

 

The orchards declined as the 20^th century progressed. Pure drinking water was now literally on tap; fruit could be bought from the supermarkets; and the tradition of having a good chat over a few ciders fell out of favour. Fruit trees have a life span of around 150 years, and as the old trees fell, they were no longer replaced.

But the wheel has turned full circle. Many traditional orchards are being restored, and home-brew is again gaining in popularity.

                                 A restored orchard at Park Farm.

Day 18. The Parish Pump

We will now turn to daily life in Preston and how relics of bygone days reveal a nearly forgotten way of life.
Water was one of the most important considerations when locating a settlement. Surface water supplies were unreliable and harboured disease, especially in summer, and springs were found only where geological features permitted. A well which would fill with ground water was usually the solution. They generally  gave safe water that could be relied on in all but the severest droughts. Those at the outlying farms of Whitehill and The Rough were over ninety feet deep, with the water sixty feet down. In a drought year this would be much more. The wells in the village, such as the communal wells for the Victorian cottages and Silvester's Cottages, were only about fifty feet deep, with water at around thirty feet. This likely influenced the siting of the village.

During Anglo-Saxon times, a communal well was typically sunk in the village, often on the green. The parish pump was necessarily a focal point for the community and was used to disseminate news and gossip, as the phrase still implies today.
A bucket attached to a rope brought the water to the surface, and hand-operated pumps were later designed.  Drawing water was an arduous task for the housewife, especially on Mondays when the laundry was done.
By Tudor times most larger houses had their own well. Most properties in Preston today have their own, now disused, well, although the 19^th century cottages along the main street shared a communal well.

 One of a handful of pumps surviving in Preston, now used purely for decorative purposes.

Shallower soft-water wells collected rainwater. This was used for laundry, as the lack of minerals was much better for washing. Boiling hard water, as a look inside many kettles illustrates today, creates insoluble and irremovable deposits on all surfaces.

A soft-water well and pump outside the back kitchen or scullery at Park Farm, where the huge coppers for laundry were installed. Both probably date from the mid to late 19^th century. Water was drawn from the well beneath the stone slab. The excess collected in the stone trough and drained through a grating back into the well.

 Mains water was installed in Preston in the 1950s. This was comparatively late by national standards – urban areas had been using piped water for several decades. The wells became obsolete almost overnight.

Day 17. The Tramway

Another mode of transport has left its mark on Preston's landscape. The Stratford to Moreton-in-Marsh tramway opened in September 1826, following the route of the turnpike road, now the A3400. The route between Stratford and Newbold on Stour can be traced today as the wide strip of land, now growing wild, with various cuttings and embankments along the route.

 

                                          The route of the tramway.

            The tramway as it enters Stratford. This high embankment is now a footpath.

 

The tramway was the brainchild of architect William James, who had been integral to the completion of the Stratford canal. He intended the tramway to link Stratford's canal system with London and so boost trade and commerce, but his plan was never completed. 

Railway pioneer George Stephenson advised William to use the revolutionary new steam technology for his project, but William believed this too risky and instead opted for the tried-and-tested system of horse-drawn transport.
Work began in 1820 and finished in 1826, although William was now imprisoned for bankruptcy. The opening ceremony included a demonstration of three horses hauling four loaded wagons, weighing 15 tons, without the least apparent exertion. The tramway imported cheap coal to the district, of huge benefit to the poor, and took limestone south. On a sadder note, the line was the site of the world's first recorded railway fatality: a child was run over in Alderminster in May 1830.

William James' hesitancy to use steam power proved a great impediment. The rapid expansion of steam railways meant the tramway was soon of little value and recouped little of its costs.
It was adapted for passenger transport in 1853, although it was said that the speed should be measured in hours-per-mile rather than miles-per-hour. When the tram reached a downward slope, the horse – in danger of being run over by the wagons –  was loaded onto a platform to have food and water, and gravity took over. At the bottom the horse could safely be hitched back up to continue the journey.

It was not a comfortable journey. Passengers were advised to keep hold of their seats during these changes in speed, lest they be thrown out, and those seated outside had to keep their heads down and their hands on their hats as they passed through tunnels.

The Stratford section of the tramway was closed in 1904, and the metal lines removed a decade later to aid the war effort.

Day 16. The Quinton Road

Another long-gone road in Preston is evident by the disruption to the ancient ridge and furrow pattern across the field called The Greenground. This road linked to what is now the Radbrook Road, which once continued to Quinton. The latter section is now a footpath.
The road reached Preston approximately opposite the village hall, where a brick crossing point can still be seen in the ditch.

                           The route of the road, evidenced by the flattened ridges.

Today  the Radbrook Road takes a sharp bend to link to the Admington Road, which also now leads to Quinton. It is unclear when the road layout was altered, but the section across The Greenground was certainly disused at the time of a land survey in 1721.

Day 15. Shakersway

We will now look at another ancient road which once formed a major route through Preston. This road, known  as Shakersway, ran up what is now the green; past the church; below Atherstone Hill Farm; down Featherbed Lane, now a farm track; and on to Binton Bridges ten miles away.

                                        The route of Shakersway.

Many ancient routes across Britain – some with an antiquity of two thousand or more years – can be traced as 'hollow' or 'sunken' ways: they are well below the level of the surrounding land, thanks to the erosion by countless feet, hooves and wheels. Many are now footpaths or bridal tracks, and some define parish or country boundaries – often a sign of their origins in the Anglo-Saxon period or even earlier.

Shakersway is not quite a hollow way, but a noticeable change in elevation between the road and the field called The Churchground is evident. As well as erosion by traffic, ploughed soil worked its way down the hill to the road over many centuries. The route can also be seen in the topology of the Top Park leading towards Atherstone Hill Farm.

The change in elevation between Shakersway and The Churchground is clear.

 

Two short lanes either side of the church led from the village green to Shakersway. They were probably used for droving livestock to the open fields. One is now tarmaced; the other is a footpath. The second, which continues past Church House, was known as The Dell in the 20^th century.

 

Shakersway was diverted up the hill and down into Atherstone in the 1760s, when James West extended his parkland across its route (see Day 14). The section along the green may have fallen into disuse around the same time, and the main route through the village adopted its present course. 

Day 14. The Cow Lane

                                 The Cow Lane.

                                      The Cow Lane, c.1960.

This road, leading from Preston bridge to the crossroads, is named after the dairy cows of Lower Farm, which once walked along it from parlour to pasture each day.

The road is a relatively recent addition to the village landscape. This is evident with a look at the field on the east side. The ridges and furrows of the ancient open field system are still clearly visible; a series of very short ridges have been intersected by the road.

 

The ridges were once known as The Little Croft, today planted with fruit trees.
 

Documentary evidence states that the road was laid down c.1760 when Preston Lane was relocated.  The road into the village once ran closer to Alscot Park and crossed the river at the bottom of The Ham (see day 3). When James West, the recent purchaser of Alscot Park, decided to create a deer park in the 1750s, he removed the current road and reinstalled it further away from his house.

James built a new bridge over the Stour and laid this new section of road, linking to the Wimpstone and Admington roads and forming a crossroads.

 

The roads around Preston, c.1730. Courtesy of Robert Howe.

Day 13. The Country Lanes

The rural lane with wide, flower-strewn verges: a key feature of the British countryside.

Until the 19^th century, Britain's roads were notorious. A lack of paving or hard surfacing, combined with the fickle weather and a multitude of passing hooves, feet and wheels, meant thoroughfares were churned to a near-permanent quagmire in winter, and baked hard to a ruinous assault-course of ruts and pot-holes in summer.

Roads had no defined boundaries – if a section was impassable, people would simply skirt round it.  Even the little-used rural roads had to be at least 50 feet wide, and heavily used routes such as the drove-roads towards London could be up to half a mile wide, essential if they were to remain anything like usable.

When Preston's open fields were enclosed by  parliamentary commissioners in the 1750s, to be discussed in a later post, the parish roads were also inspected. Their widths were fixed, mostly at 50 or 60 feet, and the commissioners ordered them to be enclosed [hedged]. These road boundaries are still in place today.

When the roads were paved and then tarmaced, the 60-foot width was no longer necessary for most rural roads. A single lane of hard surface was laid and the excess was left for grazing livestock. Today it grows wild.

But this didn't always happen. Sometimes the roadside hedges weren't planted for several years, and when they were, the farmers moved them outwards into the highway – what they saw an unnecessary waste of land. The Wimpstone Road near Broad Bridge, where it passes through what was once the Mansell family's land, is much narrower than the statutory 50 feet. Some unknown member of the Mansell family sneaked his hedges out a bit!

 

                                  The Wimpstone Road as it passes through the Mansells' farmland.

Day 12. The Village Green

 

Preston is a 'green' village: it is focussed around a central village green. This is a common feature of villages with Anglo-Saxon origins.

The green hails to a time when a secure pasture for livestock, defensible against neighbouring settlements, Danish raiders and wolves was near essential. The green would have been surrounded by wooden palings, now long since gone.
The green was the central point of the village, physically, religiously and socially. It was considered common ground for recreation and grazing livestock. Roads radiated from it and homesteads – often the larger farmhouses, as Church House and Locke's Farm illustrate –  faced it.

The church was almost always on the green; in Preston it stands on the south side on a natural prominence. The May Pole and a pound for straying cattle were also found on the green – the latter in Preston was against the church railings, later replaced with the present brick wall.
The stocks – where miscreants were punished for minor crimes such as blasphemy and playing sports on a Sunday – were located on village greens from Medieval times. In Preston they stood beneath a lime tree known as the Stocks Tree which blew down in the 1950s.
No other building was permitted on the green. This is why so many survive, long after the wolves and raiders were consigned to history books.

Day 11. The Model Victorian Cottages

                               The village street, late 19^th century.

Living conditions for rural labourers in the 19^th century were often deplorable. Old, broken-down cottages with mouldy walls, ill-fitting windows and no sanitation were commonplace. The dwellings often contained only one room on each floor, but had to provide accommodation for six, eight or even more adults and children. These conditions were regularly attacked by social commentators, but progression towards change was slow.

James Roberts-West (1811-1882) inherited the Alscot Estate in 1838 and set about tackling the problem. He bought up and demolished several dilapidated cottages in Preston, including those used by the churchwardens to accommodate the poorest families. He replaced them with modern brick-built cottages - Numbers 1-20 - with their own gardens, pigsties, privies, bakehouses and washhouses.

 

                                                  The date stone on No.10.

The first tenants were those families who had lived in Preston for ten or twenty years or more, often in the dilapidated dwellings. All worked on the estate or its farms.

This philanthropic work was ahead of its time – it was several decades before similar projects on other estates became commonplace. George Cadbury's model village at Bournville, for which work started in 1893, is a famous example. The scheme was also entirely non-profit-making, as the exceptionally low rents would never recoup James' building costs.
James also set his sights on other philanthropic projects.  He undertook similar work in the neighbouring villages of Wimpstone and Alderminster, also part of the Alscot Estate, and founded a village school.

Day 10. The Windows

The humblest early houses contained no windows. Warmth was a more important consideration than light, and the occupants relied on candle and firelight.
The timber-framed houses built from the Medieval period had small 'mullioned' windows, comprising several vertical wooden bars incorporated into the frames. These were usually shuttered as glass was prohibitively expensive.
In most cases the mullions have long since been removed, but the holes they slotted into are often still apparent if the modern window frame is removed.

The increasing affordability of window glass from the 18^th century had a dramatic effect on architecture. Windows grew bigger – rooms could be naturally lit with no problem of drafts or inclement weather – and the heavy mullions were replaced with elaborate styles which became an important architectural feature.

 

 A typical Georgian-style window of the 18^th century. The liftable sash allowed ventilation if desired.

 

 It is often easy to tell in timber-framed buildings if the original windows have been altered.  No alteration to the surrounding timbers of the first window has taken place. It is obviously the original size, although the frame is modern.

The second window has been enlarged at some point. It encroaches into the adjacent timbers, and the horizontal timber beneath has been removed. This may herald to the time when the occupant was able to afford the installation of glass.

Day 9. The Chimney

Until the Medieval period, most houses had a central open hearth for heating, cooking and light. The smoke escaped through the thatch or a smoke hole.
An outer fireplace with a chimney was built on dwellings of modest size from the 16^th century. This had many advantages. The dwelling was no longer filled with smoke; sparks were easily contained; and the room no longer had to be open to the roof. Concomitant with the advent of the chimney was the introduction of an upper floor in dwellings.

Chimneys were soon incorporated into almost all new houses, and built onto older ones. They were built in brick or stone for obvious reasons – sometimes the only brickwork in a timber-framed house. Earlier examples often projected from the house; later ones were incorporated into the outer wall. The once-presence of an open hearth is often made obvious by a look at the roof timbers. They will be blackened by years of smoke.

                                         A stone chimney on the timber-framed Locke's Farm.

Park Farm in the 19^th century. The diagonally-placed chimney, removed in the late 19^th century, heated what was once the parlour before drastic alterations to the interior layout.

Large hearths were typically built, still evident in many old houses. Large pieces of timber were the only available fuel in many areas before mechanical saws became available. The hearths were used for  stewing pans, roasting spits, boiling water and many other purposes as well as warmth. 

During the 19^th century, ranges and stoves replaced the open hearth for cooking purposes. The expanding railway network meant that coal was easily and cheaply acquired across Britain, and fireplaces were now reduced to a much smaller size. They were also installed in upstairs rooms. The small coal grates found in the parlours of many old houses can often be found to sit in a much larger, blocked up fireplace.

                                                A Victorian upper-storey coal grate.

Day 8. Bricks and Mortar

Bricks were used in Britain by the Romans, but were abandoned by the Anglo-Saxons in favour of timber-framed houses and wattle and daub. From  Medieval times, bricks again began to appear in Britain. They were costly to make and difficult to transport, but had the overwhelming benefits of durability and fire-resistance. Production became cheaper and by the 17^th century they were in common use. A century later many old timber-framed houses were pulled down and rebuilt in the current fashion.

 Church House, a 17^th century farmhouse, was rebuilt in brick in the  mid 18^th century. Some timber-framing survives at the rear, safely out of sight of visitors.

Bricks were made as close to the construction site as possible, and the clay was dug locally. Former clay pits are evident as hollowed-out areas in Park Farm's orchard and in the grass field called the Greenground.

Locations of brick kilns are hinted at by field names such as Old Brick Kiln Ground and New Brick Kiln Ground, near Rough Farm. They were constructed to build this farm and  two others nearby.

The Brick Yard on the A3400 was probably built in the late 18^th century, and was in use until the early 20^th century. The bricks which surround a large part of Alscot Park were probably made here.

                                          The clay pit in the Greenground.

                                         The brick wall around Alscot Park.

The brickwork in the granary of Park Farm. Uneven firing of the bricks created a range of colours in the finished products, often used decoratively.

The Industrial Revolution and the rapidly expanding urban areas fuelled  a need for the mass production of cheap bricks. Brick-making, a skilled and prestigious craft for many centuries, then became another soulless industrial process.