Sign: Village Green no 41

This sign has intrigued me for some years, partly because the signposted area seems small to be designated a village green, also because I didn’t realise village greens were numbered, and I also wondered about the Inclosure Act, in particular the Section 12 that was mentioned. So, I decided to investigate. 

Village Green 41 is a small public green space that sits in front of the stone boundary wall of St Dochdwy's Church in Llandough, in the Vale of Glamorgan, in Wales. According to the Llandough Community Council website, the Council owns the green and is responsible for its maintenance. The green is home to a commemorative Millennium Stone, and has benches for people to sit and enjoy the trees and seasonal flower displays.

The number 41 relates to a Register of Town or Village Greens maintained by the Vale of Glamorgan Council, which, according to their website,

holds the registers compiled by the two former counties of South Glamorgan and Mid Glamorgan.

The registers were compiled, under the Commons Registration Act 1965, between 1967 and 1970 and contain information about all the registered common land and village greens in the Vale of Glamorgan.

Every area of registered land is listed in the registers under a unique Unit (CL or VG) Number. The registers also show if there are any rights of common over the land and record details of claims to ownership.

 

Next, the Inclosure Act 1857, for which I located this excellent summary on the LexisNexis website:

This Act was implemented to address the impact of the widespread enclosure of common lands in England and Wales. It sought to regulate and protect certain remaining public areas from further enclosure, ensuring that they remained accessible for public use. The legislation specifically extended protections to ancient or customary common lands, providing a legal remedy to curtail the loss of public open spaces. It also incorporated measures to uphold public rights of way, ensuring community access and recreational use while recognising the need for continued lawful agricultural operations on enclosed lands. 

As indicated on the Village Green 41 sign, Section 12 of the Inclosure Act relates to ‘Protecting from nuisances town and village greens and allotments for exercise and recreation.’ The details of the Act on the UK Government’s Legislation website explain those nuisances might include ‘wilfully and without lawful authority lead[ing] or driv[ing] any cattle or animal thereon’, or ‘wilfully lay[ing] any manure, soil, ashes, or rubbish, or other matter or thing thereon’, acts for which ‘any churchwarden or overseer of the parish in which such town or village green or land is situate’ might fine the offender, both for the offence itself and for the cost of remedying the effects of the offence. You have been warned!

Barry Island sign

I’m a sucker for a good sign and this one, alongside the main road link to Barry Island, is a cracker!

Until the 1890s, Barry Island really was an island, with access restricted to Shanks’s pony at low tide and a ride on a ferry when the water levels got too high. In the 1880s, docks had been built at Barry to export Wales’s coal to the world and, to help expedite those exports, in 1896, a railway link was constructed via a long causeway. Barry Island has ever after been firmly attached to the mainland.

These days, Barry Island – Ynys Barri, in Welsh – is known not for its docks and exports but rather for its family friendly fairground-type attractions, fish and chip shops, amusement arcades, its apparently thrilling rides – the quintessential British seaside resort. The sign, then, is the perfect pictorial advertisement for the pleasures of an island visit.

Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to discover anything about the sign itself so can’t credit the artist or maker. It’s wonderfully done – the expression on the man’s face, the boot that is his catch, the fish lurking under the waves, the complete relaxation of the woman’s posture, the skinny face-masked kid clinging to the side of the boat (or is it a bath tub?), and, of course, the ubiquitous gull. It always makes me smile, and I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a better place sign.

It’s a sign: England, part two

When out for one of my countryside rambles recently, the realisation that I was just a tad lost finally dawned on me when I saw this sign on a side road.

Low-flying aircraft

As far as I was aware, I shouldn’t have been anywhere near an airport. Turns out I wasn’t too far from a rather large, now abandoned airfield, former Royal Naval Air Station Stretton or HMS Blackcap. According to the Forgotten Airfields website it was built as a Royal Air Force night fighter station to protect Manchester and Liverpool from Luftwaffe raids during the Second World War but transferred to Admiralty control when the Germans stopped bombing British cities. The Navy had 41 Fleet Air Arm Squadrons based at Blackcap for varying periods, flying regular missions to and from aircraft carriers based in the Irish Sea.

Construction of the M56 motorway in 1971 went right through the site, half of which is now an industrial area but the south side is still very obvious in this aerial photo. In recent years, apparently, Shell used the airfield to test engine oil but it seems currently to be languishing unused. The Warrington Guardian of 11 June 2014 reported on plans to turn part of the land into an underground vehicle storage facility but that is being opposed by local councils, and car-racing enthusiasts have been eyeing the site for a race track, something neighbours have also opposed.

I’m assuming the sign has been there for a long time – I don’t think there have been any low-flying aircraft in the vicinity since the airfield closed in 1958!

The Pinfold

‘This enclosure dates from the Eighteenth Century and was used as a pound to secure stray livestock.’

You never know what you might stumble across when out walking! First an airfield and then, on that same long rural meander, something much much older. I discovered this enclosure and its explanatory sign on Budworth Road, not far from Arley Hall, in Cheshire. I’d never heard the word pinfold before so, when I finally got home, I hastened to google to discover more. Professor Wiki notes that the terms ‘pinfold’ and ‘pound’ are both Saxon in origin and both mean ‘animal enclosure’ – the only difference in usage is which part of England you’re in: it’s a pinfold in the north and east and a pound in the south and west.

Due to its age, this pinfold is a Grade II listed structure. It’s of ashlar contruction with large coursed stones, is rectangular in shape, with walls just over 100cms tall and has a single entrance. Dating from the days before enclosed fields were in common use, it would have been used to house stray pigs, sheep and cattle until their owners reclaimed them.

Signpost to Arley

‘This Road Forbidden Is To All / Unless They Wend Their Way To Call / At Mill, Or Green, Or Arley Hall.’

Having mentioned Arley Hall above, I thought I’d also include this rather wonderful signpost in this blog. The sign marks one of the side entrances to Arley Estate, an entrance only for use by those who reside in the old houses along the lane or those on foot, intending to walk the local public footpaths. If you’re not familiar with Arley, it’s a magnificent country estate that has been home to members of Lord Ashbrook’s family since the fifteenth century. 

So far, I’ve only been able to view Arley’s glorious vistas from the public paths as the house and gardens have been closed over the winter but I’m planning on exploring further when the 2015 visitor season opens in March. 

Footpath signs

As you’ve no doubt gathered, both from the name of my blog and from the numerous times I’ve mentioned my rambles and meanders, I’m a very enthusiastic and active walker. One of the things I like best about living in England is the public rights of way that make this country’s green and pleasant lands easily available to everyone. They give access to places you could never reach by road, allow you to appreciate the sounds of Nature not motorways and, as some are hundreds of years old, they provide valuable insight into the history of the people who have lived in the area.

There are various types of rights of way: public footpaths, for pedestrians only; public bridleways, for horse riders and pedestrians to share; and restricted byways, for horse riders, pedestrians and non-mechanised vehicles (the horse and cart of olden times) to share. Walkers can also often use concessionary paths, where use is allowed at the discretion of the landowner but is not a legal right. These are often also called permissive paths (which always makes me chuckle!).

The signage for these paths varies from place to place and from county to county so I have included several different examples here. 

As the sign below reminded me, you do have to be mindful of track boundaries when using footpaths (though this warning of potential shooting is a rather extreme example!) and you should always always follow the Countryside Code. 

It’s a sign: England, part one

Signs are another of my enthusiasms. Obviously, they can be useful and informative – they point the way, they warn of hazards, they welcome you to town, they try to sell you things. There are whole vocabularies of signs we learn to recognise from quite a young age (road signs, for example) and those that are essential for our well-being (safety signs in the workplace). These signs are usually regulated and painted in specific recognisable colours but other types of signage are multi-coloured and jazzy and just plain fun.

I’ve blogged before about signs that have caught my eye and my imagination, in Peru, in Cambodia and in New Zealand. Here are some I’ve noticed during recent months living in England.

Hale Village sign

There are many pretty village signs here in England and the one marking the entrance to the lovely little village of Hale, in Merseyside, is a perfect example. It’s attractive and colourful and, though not physically accurate – the tower of St Mary’s Church doesn’t actually loom over the small cottages next to where local giant John Middleton lived, the sign advertises the town’s attractions in a much more subtle way than a huge neon sign. I’d definitely recommend a visit to this delightful town – you can read more about things to see here. 

Within Way, Hale

Let’s stay in Hale for a moment longer as that is where I photographed this intriguing street sign. According to one of the village’s websites (for some reason they have two) this road leads down to the old ford crossing of the River Mersey and was the route used by the army of Prince Rupert during its Civil War operations.

And, according to Ernest Broxap’s 2005 publication The Great Civil War In Lancashire, 1642-1651, ‘The ford at Hale was for a long time the principal pass over the Mersey between Liverpool and Warrington. It ceased to be generally used about 150 years ago; but almost within living memory horses were taken over by this way for hunting in Cheshire.’

The ford is no longer usable, of course, and it seems the name ‘Within’ may actually have its root in the word withy (or withe), the name for a strong flexible willow stem used to make things like baskets and fences.

Milepost on Trent and Mersey Canal

We move on to a different waterway now, leaving behind the River Mersey and heading to a section of the Trent and Mersey Canal near Northwich. The canal weaves its way through the English countryside for 93 miles, running from Preston Brook in Cheshire to Shardlow in South Derbyshire, and all along its length you can find mile posts like these, designed to inform passing river traffic of the distances to the canal’s start and end points.

The original cast-iron posts were made in the early 19th century to a standard design, with a circular post and embossed inscriptions on the faces of the moulded head, all painted in distinctive black and white. The post maker’s name and the date are shown on a quatrefoil on the front of the post – and here we have a little mystery. The milepost shown at left above (located near Marston, inscribed ‘Shardlow 84 miles, Preston Brook 8 miles’) appears as Grade II listed on the English Heritage register of protected structures, where it is described as showing ‘R&D Stone 1814’ for the maker’s details. In fact, as you can see in my photo, the details are ‘T&MCS 1977’, which seems to indicate that this is not the original milepost and that it was replaced by the Trent and Mersey Canal Society in 1977. The photo at right shows one of the originals, made in 1819, which sits two miles further along the canal, near Barnston. (I have emailed English Heritage to advise them of the change.)

200 sign on River Weaver at Dutton Locks

Staying with the theme of signs alongside waterways for a moment, here’s an intriguing sign I spotted recently while walking part of the Weaver Way, a trail than runs, as the name implies, alongside the River Weaver and the Weaver Navigation (the manmade parts of that waterway).

I was walking the section from Acton Bridge to Dutton Locks (for photos of that walk, see here) and found this sign beside the towpath just past Dutton Locks. Luckily, Colin Edmondson, the historian for the River Weaver Navigation Society, was able to provide me with some information about it. As I suspected, the concrete post marks ‘200 yards to a lock or swing bridge. Once a boat had passed the post, it was assured of its correct place in the queue. The first mention of them came in the rule book for 1853’:

A post placed at a distance of 200 yards above and below each lock. Vessel first coming within such distance shall have priority over any other vessel passing in the same direction. No vessel to moor within 200 yards of any lock, bridge or weir unless loading or unloading.

Colin believes the signs we see today are more recent replacements for the original posts, and probably date from the 1920s or 1930s. My sincere thanks to Colin for providing these fascinating details.

Cows and 40

“You have how many cows?” I know, I know. The number has nothing to do with the cow sign – it’s indicating the maximum speed limit for the following section of road – but the placement of the two signs together just tickled my fancy.

The cow sign is a fairly common sight in Cheshire where dairy-farming is now the dominant industry. As reported by DairyCo on their website, in 2010/11 22% of the UK’s milk production came from the Midlands, and Cheshire was the 4th highest milk-producing county, recording 742,479 litres. And I’m sure everyone’s heard of Cheshire Cheese, which may well be the oldest recorded named cheese in British history – it was reported in Thomas Muffet’s Health’s Imrpovement that dates from around 1580. 

House-name signs

In my Antipodean ignorance, I have always assumed that house names were somewhat pretentious, an affectation, particularly when attached to less valuable properties (‘Oaktree Manor’ attached to a cosy cottage, for example), or a frivolity (‘Dunroamin’ for the home of a settled retiree). In New Zealand that may well be the case but not here in the UK.

Though the Britain follows the standard, common in most English-speaking countries, of numbering houses in a street to facilitate postal and other deliveries (e.g. ’25 Frog Lane’), it is also quite common for properties to be identified solely by their name, especially in smaller towns (thus ‘Waterview Cottage, Frog Lane’). And this system also prevails in locations where there has been infill house construction subsequent to the numbering of the original houses in a street – it seems that it’s easier than renumbering the whole street or using the rather cumbersome method of adding a, b or c to a house number.

It seems an eminently sensible solution to me and, when you can buy such pretty house-name signs as these two examples, who wouldn’t rather have a name than a number?

It’s a sign: New Zealand

If reader numbers on my earlier blogs are anything to go by – see It’s a sign: Peru and It’s a sign: Cambodia – we all love a good sign so I figured it was time to share some of those I’ve spotted on my wanders around the streets of Auckland.

Let’s start with something environmental. New Zealand is very proud of its clean, green image, though the reality isn’t always as clean and green as is portrayed, but we do try hard. Signs like these can be found on or around most of the grids into our big street drains, reminding people that any rubbish they throw down these drains will, ultimately, pollute all our waterways, including our two beautiful harbours (the Waitemata and the Manukau) and our two oceans (the Pacific on the eastern side, and the Tasman Sea, to the west).

I’m not sure what to say about this, but I simply had to photograph it. Setting aside the sexual innuendo, this is exactly how I used to eat this type of biscuit when I was a kid – with one little extra. I’d twist the two parts carefully so they’d separate, then lick the icing off, then dunk the remaining biscuits in milk just long enough to soften them but not so long that they’d get too soft and fall into the milk – that was the tricky bit – getting the timing right!

I found this on the side of some bench seating next to a grassy area in the Britomart precinct. I haven’t seen any cats in the vicinity (not even cougars!) but it’s nice to see the sign makers had a sense of humour.

I love this one! It’s child size, and I did look around to find a child to persuade to stand here but it was early morning and there were none. It’s a neat idea and can be found down by Auckland harbour, at Silo Park.

While the previous sign was definitely child-friendly, this most certainly is not. I think the intention was probably to warn motorists to take care as children are often to found playing in this area but, to me, this says: ‘Kids are dangerous. If you see a kid on a bike, be afraid.’ However, as I’m not particularly child-friendly, that may just be my warped interpretation!

Strictly speaking, this is a sculpture rather than a sign. It was made by New Zealand artist Paul Hartigan in 1997 and is part of the University of Auckland’s extensive art collection. It is currently to be found in a corridor of the Arts 2 building and can be seen from Grafton Road – at least, when its neon-tubes are switched on, it can. So, does this art speak to you?

This metallic sign is set into the concrete of the pavement outside Thai restaurant Monsoon Poon in downtown Auckland. I googled to try to find out whether this is the English translation of the restaurant’s name but no luck and, judging by many of the reviews I read, it’s not necessarily the opinion of the diners either, though that could be what the restaurant owners are hoping.

Well, are you? 

It’s a sign: Cambodia

Following the riotous success (over 300 people have read it!) of my earlier blog about the interesting and intriguing signs I discovered in Peru (see It’s a sign: Peru), I feel it is time to share some of the treasures I have tripped over in Cambodia!

This first one I like as much for the splendid colour of the portable household shrines awaiting sale to local customers as for the sign itself, which is quite plain but contains a good message for us all. ‘Slow down … and smell the roses!’ we might say in the West. Here it’s ‘slow down … and buy a shrine.’

What can I say? Is this good roadside advice? If this were in New Zealand, I might think it was referring to our most famous bird, the kakapo named Sirocco, who attempted to shag the head of a photographer while being filmed by the BBC for an endangered species documentary back in 2009. Perhaps Cambodia has a similar randy bird!

Is it a tree? Is it lightning? No, it’s the sign for winding roads ahead. This one I just like for its lovely curves. Our winding road signs in New Zealand are just so boring, so lacking in design flair, so devoid of curvaceousness compared to this little beauty. And the road going up the mountain to the Bokor Hill Station, near Kep (see The ghosts of Bokor Hill) really was like this with a series of long sweeping curves to the top.

I ask you, could a pharmacy be more aptly named? When something has made you go ‘ouch’, this has to be the perfect place to come for a remedy.

I can’t think of many people who would want to sleep in a church at night, unless they thought they were being haunted or chased by the devil or were seeking asylum of some kind. Obviously, it's okay to sleep here during the day though.

Now, I’ve heard of organisations and businesses being fairly specific about the type of work they do, but this one takes the cake! And, in case you’re in any doubt at all that they will actually service more than one window, they have two signs stressing the point.

This is my absolute favourite of the signs I’ve seen here so far. Not the top part of the board – after all, you can get your hair coloured, your nails cut and a shave in countless places. It’s their bold claim about the clarity of their communication that tickled my fancy.

To finish, I say ‘thank you’ in Khmer. One of the most important words to learn in any language and here beautifully spelled out above a shop in Kampot. Ogun for stopping by my blog!