on my commute…

It’s been a little while since I last posted, so I thought i should get back to it.

First, I’m quite excited that the first draft of the newly made catalogue for the S E Davis collection has been produced, and is undergoing expert review!

Secondly, the realization that my period of full time placement at S E Davis is drawing to a close has made me pay a little more attention to my journey back and forth from work. What has particularly struck me whilst driving through rural Herefordshire and Worcestershire was the marked difference between the character and appearance of the two counties.

One thing (aside from wild hops) that I notice in both counties is the marks of agricultural history on the landscape. I always find it exciting and pleasing to see the distinctive undulations in grasslands, the remains of medieval ridge and furrow farming, formed by a particular style of farming. Although there were a broad range of agricultural techniques and practices in use throughout medieval England (and it’s important to remember that the medieval period is a long and dynamic time in history) ridge and furrow farming has left a strong imprint on the land.

They are formed by the interaction of the physical properties of the plough and the necessity to turn the beasts pulling the plough. Early ploughs could plough in only one direction, meaning the plough can’t return along the same furrow and the ploughing was done in a clockwise direction around a strip of land. This strip of land was kept relatively narrow, so that the plough wasn’t dragged over what was referred to as the headland (the unploughed land at the end of the strip), and then the strip was ploughed in the other direction. The soil was turned in one direction on one pass, and then in the same direction (relative to the plough) in the other, causing the rows of turned soil to pile up against each other, along the centre line. When the next strip was plouged it formed the same pattern next to the original strip. Over time this results in a furrow between each area of ploughed land, with the soil rising towards the centre line of the ploughed strip.

Each strip would be farmed, and individual farmers might have several strips (often scattered throughout a number of strips, to ensure an even distribution of good and poor strips) and each strip could bear a different crop. It must have been a glorious sight, with strips of barley, oats, vetches, rye, peas, wheat and so on, all mixed in together. A stark contrast to today’s monocultural fields.

As time progressed, these ridges became more pronounced, and farmers would pull up the more fertile soil which had moved down into the furrow, as well as adding manure, and marling the soil (the addition of clay mixed with carbonate of lime), both of which increase the height of the ridge.

In this respect these ridges remind me of the floating gardens, or Chinampas, of the Aztecs. Where an area of a shallow lake is staked out and fenced with wattle, then the whole area is layered with sediment and vegetation, until it rises above the level of the lake. IN this respect Chinampas are far more like cranogs of Scotland than ridge and furrow farming. However the similarity is that they are increased over time by the action of generations of farmers manuring the ground, and hauling up fertile sediments from the bed of the lake onto to the Chinampa.

Anyway, back to ploughing. As plough technology progressed new designs of plough were developed to allow larger areas of land to be ploughed without these distinctive ridges and furrows. The irony perhaps is that the evidence for early ploughing is often obscured by the action of later ploughing.

There are several sites where these ridge and furrow fields are easily seen, with several surrounding the White Ladies Aston turning off the A422, and along the Hereford to Worcester road.

About agriculturaltrainee

I am a curatorial trainee, funded by the heritage lotery find, working at the Museum Resource and learning centre in Hereford.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a comment