I'd like to give you a little tour of a village called Teversal in Nottinghamshire.
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 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.
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 -
But there was still room, no matter the overflow graveyard, to plant a few bodies now cremations are more the thing -
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.
Lovely.