Lost in deepest Northamptonshire.

 This week, we found Wadenhoe.

We live in, or very close to, six English counties (plus three vice-counties, Huntingdonshire, the Soke of Peterborogh, and Rutland). "So what?" you might ask.

Well, each county has its own strong charecteristics and looks to it's own historic county town for focus. That town is often a cathedral city too; think of Lincoln, Northampton, Norwich and Leicester. However, in my neck of the woods,  Cambridge is the county town but Ely and Peterborough have the cathedrals. Each county has its own local newspapers and radio stations, so it really is a revelation to visit another county to hear the local dialect and pick up some leaflets for the local attractions.

The six counties are all accessible for an afternoon out from our house. In fact, we can be in London or Birmingham in an hour; both several counties away. It all goes to show that England isn't very big really, but it is a very diverse place.

This week we "discovered" the little bit of Northamptonshire that is nearest to us, and we fell in love with it. Let me tell you why.

Imagine leaving our flat grid-iron of a fenland landsape behind and, after driving west for only a few minutes, turning off onto a single-track road  that winds between hedges and woods and climbs over actual hills that require you to change gear! The houses here are built from yellow stone and many of them have stone-tiled or thatched roofs. It's England as it used to be. There is no cell-phone reception and no traffic noise except mine. You drop into a shallow valley and cross (via an ancient, rickety bridge)  a clear winding river that meanders through water meadows, then rushes through mill races and sluices. Go on, scan the horizon for signs of industry. There are none. What you will see is rolling countryside, woods, hamlets and churches; lots of really old churches. You will also see birds of prey, especially kites, buzzards, hawks and kestrels. The sky is never empty.


On first acquaintance Wadenhoe is charming, but I want to know more. For instance, who owns that huge Tudor house with all the chimneys, by the river? Why is it so run-down?

The house turns out to be Lilford Hall and it is not open to the public.

Lilford Hall is a Tudor house that is stuffed with history. You can find out a lot from the splendid 500 page web-site that the owners have put together. www.lilfordhall.com  but I'll just give you a snippet or two here.

I'm always interested in any connections with America, and this house has at least two. One is Robert Brown (1550 -1633) and the other is the film-star Clarke Gable.


Robert Browne was the first separatist from the Church of England.  During the reign of James I (James the VI if you are Scottish) life became increasingly difficult for religious minorities and so, inspired by his teachings, the Pilgrim Fathers sailed on the Mayflower to found the Plymouth Colony in what is now Massachusetts. Many many more dissidents later set sail for America and established congregations in line with Brownist philosophy. Robert Browne has since been referred to as the Father of Congregationalism, Father of the Pilgrims and Grandfather of the Nation (USA). Sadly he died in prison after refusing to pay a parish tax. His crime was made more serious because he struck a police constable.
Clarke Gable was stationed at Lilford during WW 2 when the house also acted as a military hospital. He signed up to the USAAF and they capitalised on his fame by using him to make a recruitment film that was made on real sorties in the Flying Fortress bombers that flew from the airbases in Northamptonshire. You can watch the restored movie on https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7SJQYG_GskY

We also found a former owner of the house who was a serious bird-watcher.

The Powys family owned the hall from 1711 to 1949 and Thomas Powys (1833-1896) was the Fourth Baron Lilford. He was the first chairman of the British Ornithologists Union and also the man who introduced the little owl to the UK.

The house and estate are in need of quite a bit of restoration work. If you are interested, the estate is currently for sale. It could all be yours for only 50,000,000 Euros.

Wadenhoe itself is not much more than a stone hamlet with about 120 residents. In Saxon, a Wadden was a ford that youcould wade across. There is still a ford below the mill. A Hoe is a hill or spur, like the one on which the church stands.

Our first visit to the village was almost entirely spent in the Barn tea-room with our son Dan. We can recommend it is you want a snack and a friendly chat. On our second visit we had lunch in the pub, which was just as friendly and the hot food was really good. We stuffed ourselves with duck and pork, and deserts, and real ale before setting out on a hike up the hill and beyond.
I suspect that the place can be overwhelmed by walkers and dog owners on a good day, so I would book if I were you. On our late winter's afternoon we had the whole village more or less to ourselves.

Climbing up to the church, we noted two remarkable things:

The red kites that were whistling to each other sounded like shepherds calling their dogs. They were totally unfazed by us and, if the light had been better, I could have taken some cracking photos of them, both in flight and in the bare trees.

The church does not sit on the top of the hill, it is sunk into it so that as you enter through the porch andthe heavy wooden door, you are surprised to find that the floor inside is much lower than the outside. Entering the nave is like descending into a crypt. Why did they do that? Maybe they excavated the hill to get the stone for the church and then built it in the hole they had created. Certainly the hill is riddled with earthworks, presumably to quarry building stone. The mound is a Site of Special Scientific Interest, managed by Natural England as a mini-nature reserve. We loved it.

The village and the church mound lie on both the Nene Way and the Lyveden Way; both popularwalking routes. You just have to try them both, or you could just enjoy a meal and pint at the pub, especially in summer when you could sit in the garden on the river bank and watch the world go by. I think I'll book Sunday lunch now.











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