Shipston-on-Stour

 
The drove roads through and out of Shipston-on-Stour – “farm near the sheep-wash” originally – are remembered in “The Driftway”, “Green Lane”, “Sheepfold Mews” and probably many more modern street names we never found in that delightful town.  According to my local source, Martin, the sheep were driven south to market in Moreton-in-Marsh over Hanson Hill; cattle south-south-east via (possibly) Deddington to Oxford and (possibly) beyond.

Hanson Hill may be walkable by sheep, but it isn’t suitable for cars and carts; so the route south to Moreton from S-on-S was allowed to fade away and remains a beautiful relic of droving days while the ‘London Road’ via Long Compton took the wheeled traffic.

We made two mistakes: we walked the route from South to North, and we diverted a third of the way along to visit the medieval deserted villages of Ditchford Frary (square SP 2236), then Lower Ditchford on our way back to Todenham.  So, although the walk would have taken sheep about 10 minutes, it took us two days.  And (third mistake) the first day was beautiful, the second foul.

Day 1 started at Todenham, on the edge of Gloucestershire (SP 240360), but the true flavour and beauty of the walk only began when we’d skirted Manor Farm and saw the view in #1: left at the tree to the bridge, right to the ford.  The arches under the footbridge in #2 (which you can only just see) could have been old, but somehow we doubted it.  After that, we reached the Tidmington-Ditchford road and spent the rest of the day looking at humps and hollows in medieval fields that told us very little.

So Day 2 was northward from the road at High Furze Farm.  After many field-paths, we saw a view of the double hedge going over Hanson Hill (#3), which gave us a good impression of its height; and the weather deteriorated till we arrived in Shipston down a steep, slippery slope in continuous drizzle.  #4 & 5 probably tell the story better than I can. 

But the highspot of the day was to come: on the left as we entered Shipston were the town council offices, so I thought I’d breeze in and see if there was anything relevant to droving there.  Well, there was: the booklet mentioned drovers stopping at the Black Horse AND the lady behind the counter not only gave me the museum address (whereby I got all the info in the first para) BUT she also just happened to have been born in our home-village in Wales.

What could be better than that?  THANKS, HELLS!