Wishanger Manor estate

Helena wasn't at all well again this morning, so she couldn't go to work. But I didn't see much of her as she stayed in bed quietly, with bomble for company. I got the call at lunchtime that my car was ready and the garage driver knocked at the door within minutes to drive me up the hill and across the open farm land to Bisley.

The bad news was the cost which managed to double overnight, after a smallish problem was resolved. Hopefully the car is set for a few more years without too much major surgery to come. I better be because I could have bought a very good lens with the money the car has cost today! By the time I was ready to drive off, the sky was lightening from thick to a thin grey cloud cover, and I had the urge to potter down the country lanes and explore.

I headed to Hayhedge Lane at the bottom of which is a small field owned by my friend at the farm shop. Ashley had told me how to get there last summer, but it was too overgrown for me to find the now fallen Giant's Stone, an ancient standing stone that hardly anyone is aware of. I found it easily at one end of the field lying half buried on its side and covered in a web of mosses and lichens.

Now I know it is there, I'll visit it again on a warmer day. I walked around the field and admired the very old coppiced trees, the woodbanks, broken and dilapidated stone walls and the just ploughed reddy-brown soil that looked in very good condition. I took photos of fallen trees and their stumps, views across to Througham Slad, and general views over the Holy Brook towards Tunley and Oakridge, where woodsmoke was rising gently from the woods in the distance.

I drove back to Bisley and then took the road to Tunley, saw horses grazing in fields, and looked for old lanes and paths that we might walk on another time. By now the sun had started to break through the patchwork of clouds and small areas of the wintry landscape became illuminated. By the time I reached the three miles to Sapperton the clouds had nearly gone and the air was warming quickly. I was enjoying it so much that instead of heading for home I drove on further along the old droving road Helena and I had chosen a few weeks ago after visiting Cherington. This wound up from the deep valley bottom at Daneway following the line of the River Frome, whose valley I had descended into from Tunley. The road went steadily up on to the open farmland again taking em to Edgeworth, a small hamlet deep in a tributary valley of the From, which is a very remote spot in the Cotswolds.

I have always been attracted to its wooded steep valley and the pasture in small stone walled fields. I have heard there is an ancient clapper bridge across the river somewhere near by but I needed a map for that to check the footpaths. I saw a sign for Edgeworth church half a mile down and along a dead end road, which of course I had to then follow. There I came across a short avenue of tall beech trees leading to enormous iron gates right in front of the large Cotswold stone manor house. Beside the avenue on a slight rise was a beautiful little church, whose golden stone was glinting in the light where it wasn't shaded by large yew trees and bushes.

I got out and wandered around and to the rear where a wonderful wooden lychgate led the path away to the rest of the hamlet, down across the fields where the land dropped away amongst big trees and grassland. The church tower was speckled by the dappled light of a tall tree trunk and my eyes were drawn to its top where a green man type of gargoyle peered down menacingly. After circling around avoiding the masses of snowdrops, I was very surprised to find the church doors were open, as there has been so much theft from churches not only of their contents but also their lead and copper.

I discovered that it was a Saxon church originally, well established by the 11th century, before the time of the Norman invasion. It has been lovingly restored and is obviously well used even now. As I was trying to take pictures in the gloomy interior with no lighting, several visitors appeared at the door as if they expected to find me there. In fact a local resident had organised to open the doors especially for them, as they were a band of bell ringers who were on tour, and today were ringing in four local churches n the area. This was the last. Six of them eventually arrived and they had variously come from Somerset, Macclesfield and Stoke-on-trent, just for the day.

I felt particularly lucky to have been there to hear some skilled bell ringers playing for fun, with the bells hanging down just behind the gargoyle I had been looking at earlier. They did let me take pictures of them standing in the tiny base of the tower, as they pulled down on the ropes which had traditional red, white and blue striped woollen hand grips. Sadly they were pretty poor pictures, which is a shame.

I then said my goodbyes and headed for home, the long way, via Miserden and The Camp. Between the two hamlets a small valley descended through old beech woodlands to where another dry valley joined it. Here I couldn't resist stopping, as I've always wanted to take a closer look at the buildings of Wishanger Manor estate. I parked over the hill, beyond the house, and walked back along the road to take this picture as you see it from the road.

Again I knew very little of its history. When I neared ny car, I saw a woman walking along the road towards me and when she reached me she just said 'that was built by the Knights Templar, or was it the Hospitallers!'. I then remembered that I'd heard they had owned preceptories in this part of Gloucestershire area. She then said, 'my ancestors used to live there a few hundred years ago'. I tried to ask more but she was already heading off along the road, after teasing me with these snippets of history. I then noticed the sun dial on the side of the main house and realised I couldn't tell the time with it. Something else to learn. I shall be diving into my sources of local history now to find out more about Edgeworth, the Templars and clapper bridges. It may take some time.


A little history:
That part of his estate which Hasculf Musard granted to the Knights Hospitaller before 1186, later known as the manor of WISHANGER, became an adjunct of the preceptory of Quenington. The prior, William de Tothale, leased the manor in 1312 or 1313 to Hugh Despenser the elder for life, and in 1337 it was temporarily in Crown hands on the grounds that Hugh had acquired it without licence.

The present house, Wishanger Manor, may date from the marriage of Robert Partridge in 1566 when the Partridge arms were placed over the entrance. It is a two-storey stone house with a stone-slated roof. The gabled entrance porch of three storeys is later, and the entrance has a moulded stone surround and classical pilasters on each side rising to a string course. A sundial above the entrance is dated 1721. During the 17th century a west wing was added with a higher roof level than that of the original house. In the mid 19th century Julius Partridge restored the property and built a stone barn with a window in its gable end, decorated with his initials, but by 1903 the house was no longer considered to be suitable for a gentleman's residence. It was carefully restored in 1968.