History remains even when the buildings are gone

BENEATH the trees which screen this ancient site from the road there's only the banks of piled earth to remind us that here once stood a grand manor.
The remains of the Medieval earthworks which give Hobs Moat its name are perhaps striking because they are a survivor from centuries past in a corner of the borough which is overwhelmingly modern.

Visiting on a bitterly cold January afternoon, the continuous rumble of passing traffic is a reminder that 2024 has you almost entirely surrounded.

And yet in sight of the embankment there is still a sense of separation; you don't have to tread too far from the path to find places where our world of kerbs and concrete feels rather further than 50 yards away.
In other parts of Solihull, Knowle High Street for instance, far more from long ago is still standing whereas these earthworks are about all you might recognise of the local landscape if you were to glance at a map from the 19th or even early 20th century.
The exact origins of the manor which once occupied the site remain the subject of debate, although research suggests that the property was owned by the powerful de Odingsell family - who held sway over the estate at Ulverley as long ago as the 1100s.
Archaeological evidence - the site was most recently excavated in the eighties - suggests the residence may have been abandoned by the end of the 14th century. Perhaps the Black Death, which had arrived on our shores some several decades earlier and cut a swathe through the population, put paid to the settlement.

By the time the celebrated antiquarian William Dugdale visited in 1656 there was already no sign of the stonework, the locals telling him the ruins had long since vanished.
A little over 100 years on a crop of trees was planted on the plot, in time disguising the ditches and mounds which were the last real remnant of what would have once dominated the local countryside.
Perhaps surprisingly what lingers on the north face of a gentle hill is still in impressive condition, according to Historic England, even as whole new housing estates and a busy shopping parade have grown up around it.
In fact it is easy to forget that less than 40 years ago there was genuine concern that the popularity of the mini woodland among the likes of BMX riders was risking rapid erosion.
As Hobs Moat's community website notes "it seemed nothing could be done to save [the location] from increasing deterioration." Indeed it was thanks only to the efforts of a three-year restoration project, which ran in parallel with the archaeological study, that a team was able to safeguard the site's future.
While well preserved, it remains rather hard to appreciate the true scale of what once was here.
Running some 137 metres from north to south and a little less than that in an east-westerly direction, this would undoubtedly have been an imposing fortification in the Middle Ages.
The early 20th century historian Robert Pemberton had concluded that in its heyday the property would have posed a "formidable obstacle" to would-be attackers.
Although a Royal Commission report, published in the late nineties, is more cautious about over-relying on Dugdale's description of the site as "a castle".
"It seems likely that it was in fact a homestead or hunting lodge built perhaps for prestigious reasons and emulating the grander defended house," it said. 

Early academics may of course have had to rely on comparisons with still standing properties, like Warwickshire's Baddesley Clinton, to flesh out their impression of what might once have been visible.
Today, by contrast, we have the findings of several archaeological reports, the first investigation taking place in 1955 and then a more thorough survey following 30 years later.
The 1985-88 dig helped shed further light on the manor's past, even if the artefacts uncovered were mainly limited to fragments of 13th century pottery. 
Channels were discovered which had apparently allowed water to drain away into the moat. Nearby, meanwhile, there was some evidence of a Medieval hollow way - a form of sunken road - which may once have connected the manor to the original route of Castle Lane.
Perhaps finally it is worth lingering for a moment on the name of the site, which may also offer insight into its busy history.
It is notable that Dugdale makes reference to a local name of "Hoggs Moat" and floated the possibility this was a corruption of the Norman landowners - the Odingsells - who once ruled here. Although more recent study appears to reject this explanation.
Solihull's heritage and local studies team has suggested the name may actually offer clues as to the area's useage after the manor's walls came down. Perhaps, they have speculated, the woodland was a convenient spot for pannage - the practice of releasing hogs (we'd usually say pigs these days) to eat ground-fall nuts such as acorns.
A slightly more intriguing possibility is that the woodland had at one time been associated with an insidious, perhaps even infernal presence. Hob is, of course, an old English name for the Devil. While it's now rather harder to imagine the power supernatural beliefs exerted in centuries gone by it is intriguing that as recently as 1985 The Solihull Times reported on concerns the copse had been used by contemporary followers of witchcraft.

Scheduled ancient monuments: Hobs Moat is a rare example locally of a scheduled ancient monument - meaning that its importance is recognised at national level. The monuments are a type of heritage asset which are distinct from the likes of listed buildings and conservation areas. These sorts of sites have in fact been afforded some form of protection as long ago as the late Victorian era. Although the more modern designation dates from 1979. While many of the 20,000 sites logged by Historic England date are hundreds and in some cases thousands of years old, there is - despite the "ancient" labelling - no restriction on more modern structures being added. 

References:
An Earthwork Survey at Hobs Moat
Historic England scheduled monument listing
Hobs Moat community website
Solihull and its Church, by Robert Pemberton
Solihull Council heritage and local studies service

Reading tell-tale signs of Olton home's Edwardian origins

EDITH'S HOUSE: Gowan Bank, in Olton, was formerly
home to a well-known local resident.

SOME of Solihull's historic buildings immediately leap out at you while others stand almost unnoticed.

Gowan Bank, in Olton, is a fine old property but it's fair to say that people passing on their way to the nearby railway station, for instance, wouldn't think it looked all that different from the houses either side.
A lot of its heritage value comes from the fact it was once the home of one of the borough's most celebrated residents.
More than a century ago, the Kineton Green Road abode was the residence of Edith Holden - the amateur naturalist and artist who blazed something of a trail for environmentalism.
Decades after her death, the school teacher's illustrated journals would be posthumously published in what would become a global best-seller - The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady.
While the idea of Edith as an early eco-warrior is a somewhat colourful take on the past - she was never Greta Thunberg in a bonnet - her obvious attachment to the natural world undoubtedly feels very prescient today.

SIGN OF THE TIMES: Kineton Green Road is
part of Olton's conservation area, created in 1980.

As with the Old Hall, which we looked at last month, Gowan Bank is one of those properties which has received a lot more attention than it otherwise would have done because of its historic connections.
When the premises went up for sale two years ago there was a flurry of interest that house-hunters had a chance to buy the address where an international bestseller was written.
But even without these ties, the three-storey home is a very fetching example of the rather grand buildings which define one of Solihull's so-called mature suburbs.

Built in 1904, for the sum of just £500, it was then among just a handful of properties nearby. Indeed, an Ordinance Survey map from the turn of the century shows the area surrounded by countryside. 
A quick glance at the Trevor Yorke book British Architectural Styles shows how the home retains some of the signature features of the early 20th century.
In particular there are several flourishes which are obvious hallmarks of the Arts and Crafts movement, a rather romantic artistic style which was seen as a deliberate pushback against the dehumanising impact of industrialisation. 
In the case of Gowan Bank the influences can be seen in its stained glass windows, the protruding wooden frames and partly pebble-dashed frontage.
Picking out these details from the roadside offers an insight into how is it possible to place a building within a certain timeframe even when there isn't something as helpful as a date-stone. Styles of chimney, shapes of windows, even the number of panels on a front door might all offer clues.
Of course it is important to remember there is no "perfect" example of an Edwardian property; styles varied around the country and buildings haven't survived entirely unchanged given the century or so that has since passed.
But as time went by there was a growing emphasis on preserving the character of neighbourhoods which are evocative of a particular era.
If listing a landmark was about preserving individual buildings or groups of buildings, the role of conservation areas was rather further reaching. In some ways they recognised that the individual charm of buildings was magnified by having many clustered together.

So if Gowan Bank doesn't necessarily stand-out from the street scene, it might be because the street scene itself is worth paying more attention to. 

• An exhibition on local history is running at Olton Library until Saturday, October 21.

Farmhouse is a classic case of historic building dilemmas

RED BRICK SURVIVOR: Wharf Farm was built alongside
the Stratford-Upon-Avon Canal. Solihull Council

HOW best to protect historic sites which are valued as local landmarks but have fallen into disuse?

Old farm buildings in Dickens Heath, built beside the canal in the 18th or 19th century, are currently at the centre of this debate.

A little over 18 months ago Wharf Farm became one of the newest additions to Solihull Council's "Local List" of heritage assets, amid fears the site was being scoped out for development.

The move approved in February 2022 was just about the best option open to conservationists at the time; it had been deemed "an interesting example" of agricultural buildings of this period and type, and deserving of protection. 

But it wasn't unusual or precious enough to meet the higher bar for a national listing.

Fast forward to this autumn and councillors are weighing up a scheme which will see outbuildings pulled down to make way for eight new houses and the farmhouse itself, apparently empty for five years or so, extended.

While being treated as two separate applications, the fact that decisions on both were deferred at last night's planning committee meeting confirms they are largely being treated as one connected package.

In terms of the outbuildings the council papers note the development (pictured right) would mean the "total loss" of their significance - local authority speak for "they wouldn't be there anymore".

Although heritage experts felt there were benefits to the changes to the main farmhouse; while due to be enlarged the refurbishment would mean the core building's future was secure.

This shows the balancing act officials face when considering schemes like this. When old buildings fall out of use they are at greater risk of vandalism, arson or decay. Locals will note that an ageing barn pulled down during HS2 works near Coleshill was falling in on itself long before the bulldozers moved in.

Putting such sites back into use might improve their prospects in the long-term, but may well mean changes that dispose or alter aspects of a site. The key question is how much change is too much?

Developers argue that while the site is "attractive", a good number of similar buildings exist across the country. Although the fact remains that in Dickens Heath premises which pre-date the mass expansion of the village in recent decades are rather rare.

Council officers apparently feel that enough of the farmhouse exterior - which hasn't seen a great many alterations over the years - will be kept and preserved to justify some of the losses elsewhere on the site.

Although as is always the case, other considerations - such as road safety and access - will weigh on the final judgement of Solihull Council. With decisions deferred this week, the next possible meeting for the scheme to be considered will be Wednesday, November 8.

Inside the warrior monks' rural retreat

MEDIEVAL ORIGINS: The Old Hall was built during the heyday of the
renowned Knights Templar

HARD to believe today, but this quaint-looking cottage in the Solihull countryside was once the local headquarters for an ancient order of warrior monks. 

The Old Hall, at Temple Balsall, was previously at the heart of the preceptory (command centre) for the Knights Templar in Warwickshire.

The building's name isn't an empty boast either, tests of the roof timbers have revealed the frame dates back perhaps as far as the 1200s.

It was beneath these beams that one of the most fearsome fighting companies in Christendom conducted their business, before their dramatic fall from grace in the early 14th century.

OUTSIDE: The neat cottage garden.
The parish church is visible behind.

The hall, which is Grade II*-listed by Historic England, is today encased in red bricks that would have been laid in the 1800s.

But behind the work of Sir George Gilbert Scott, a prolific architect, is a much older Medieval structure. Although largely hidden today, it survived the more recent modifications.

When experts decide on the importance of any particular building, they consider not only its age or what it looks like but the history around it. 

This has a number of different strands. First there is the fact that somewhere was, in the past, linked to a particular group or activity or person.

Sometimes these connections are rather flimsy; think how many coastal pubs in this country claim to be former smugglers' havens or the number of old estates insisting that a particular King or Queen got some kip there many moons ago.

The Old Hall has, by contrast, copper-bottomed ties to the Templars, who were gifted the land by a wealthy admirer and ally.

The history of the site is fairly well documented, the very name of the hamlet today derives from the order which once held sway over some 640 acres of arable land.

Historian Eileen Golder, who has written extensively about the estate, paints a picture of a thriving farming community. She describes how sheep were fattened here, apples pressed for cider and how the country landscape would have even been enlivened by exotic peacocks.

As Golder notes Balsall, with "its space and seclusion and reasonably central position" had much to recommend it. 

It was the abundance of agricultural activity, here and at similar sites elsewhere, that allowed the order to raise funds for the religious crusades it engaged with overseas.

Amid the milling and ploughing and animal breeding was the Old Hall, which appeared to become an important site for welcoming new recruits and meting out punishments to those in the order who fell foul of its strict moral codes. 

If past events are one part of heritage, actual objects associated with them are another. The archaeological importance of Temple Balsall is why a wider area around the Old Hall is actually marked out as a legally protected "scheduled monument". 

In the 1980s, the property's cellar was excavated and while the finds were much later than the Middle Ages - consisting mostly of pottery from the hall's 17th century period - it is proof that physical artefacts can and do get unearthed.

What else may lie undiscovered is something we might explore as we visit other buildings in this still deeply rural part of the borough in future posts.

Knights Templar: The military order was set up in 1119 and several decades later, during the reign of King Stephen, acquired land at Temple Balsall.

This was a gift from the nobleman Roger de Mowbray and by the early 13th century the estate was firmly established as the local preceptory.

For another 100 years the Old Hall and the land around it was an important asset for a group who Temple Balsall's one-time vicar, Reverend R.F Fairburn, had described as "soldier-monks".

The fact he was writing about their local links almost a century ago shows the Templars have long been the subject of interest and intrigue.

Although his account, first published in 1927, perhaps centres rather more on the chivalry of the age and less on the crusades' often bloody legacy.

Aside from being a monastic order the Templars were after all a formidable force in the religious wars which wracked the Middle East throughout the Medieval era, often described as "shock troops" or the protectors of pilgrims on their way to the Holy Land.

But the Templars' fearsome reputation failed to prevent the rapid unravelling of the order in the early 1300s. Dark rumours about some of their ceremonies and a French king keen to contrive a way to discharge his deepening debt sealed their fate. Friday 13th, 1307 saw the arrest, torture and execution of many members. And five years later the Pope disbanded the order altogether.

References:

A brief history of Temple Balsall from the Foundation of Lady Katherine Leveson

Historic England Heritage List for England listing (1952)

Temple Balsall 1150-1870: A Short History, Eileen Golder (2002)

The Knights of the Temple ... and their connection with Temple Balsall, F.R Fairburn (1927)

The Templars History & Myth, Michael Haag (2009).

Castle Brom's last farm - a link to the rural past

SURVIVING: The former farmhouse/ Google Street View

STOOD at the roadside, near the pristine paintwork of a mini roundabout, is a building that has been a part of the area for at least three centuries.

What was once Beechcroft Farmhouse is perhaps easy to overlook on a suburban street where rows of homes are now crowded on both sides.

But it is a important link back to Castle Bromwich's rural past, when only a scattering of isolated cottages speckled the route of the old Chester Road.

It is fair to say that the patchwork of fields, which once covered the parish, are now far more a feature of ageing ordinance survey (OS) maps than living memory.

Although Beechcroft is a reminder that that isn't entirely the case. As the Castle Bromwich Village Trail - a concise guide to local sites of note - confirms, this was the last of the area's working farms and its agricultural days lasted rather longer than some may realise. 

PERIOD FEATURES: The porch
and distinctive barge boards

Indeed, those who lived locally might recall how now vanished pastures to the rear were still used to graze horses and cows into the 1970s.

Its relatively recent use means that while other estates only survive in the names of streets signs or developments - think perhaps of The Firs or Park Hall - here is one where a building itself is still standing.

From the roadside the pebbledash walls don't jump out as belonging to the 1600s; this is the date which heritage records suggest the farm came into use, although they acknowledge it might have been even earlier.

But of course many structures change over time and a lot of the features you can see today, such as the 19th century gabled porch and the decorated bargeboards, would have been added much later.

Numerous outbuildings, included an old barn, were ultimately bulldozed.

In its final years, this barn was perhaps notable for a distinctive V-shape in the tiles of the roof.

According to Colin Green's Castle Bromwich: In Times Past, the V - for victory - was created by workmen repairing damage caused during a wartime bombing raid. The farmland was of course only a short distance from Castle Bromwich Airfield and the nearby Spitfire factory - an important target for the German Luftwaffe.

After the barn and farmland failed to escape the housing developments of several decades later, Beechcroft itself was turned into a residential dwelling following the departure of the final farmer (a Mr Rawlins).

The building was deemed noteworthy enough to be included on Solihull Council's Local List - a document I will be referring to quite a bit in these posts as it is something of a treasure trove for more obscure historic landmarks.

Such lists are drawn-up by local authorities around the country and include sites which are of significant value - and deserve to be preserved - but have not been deemed quite important enough to receive a national listing from Historic England.

As with several buildings in this part of the borough, Beechcroft's age is perhaps made less obvious by the gradual development to have taken place around it. 

And yet its survival is a reminder that while Solihull's motto is "Town in the Country", there are also some important remnants of the country in built-up areas.

References:

Castle Bromwich Village Trail, produced for the Castle Bromwich Bell Restoration Project (2017)

Castle Bromwich: In Times Past, C.W Green (1984)

Old Ordnance Survey Maps: Birmingham & District 1910 (reprinted 2014)

Solihull Council's Local List of Heritage Assets (revised October 14, 2022).

Future plans for historic gatehouse stones discussed

KEY FIND: The gatehouse remains uncovered / HS2 Ltd

THE remains of a Medieval gatehouse - unearthed at a HS2 dig-site near North Solihull - have been removed from the site but the structure is unlikely to be rebuilt as it was.

Archaeologists excavating the former site of Coleshill Manor had speculated the heavily fortified entrance may have been witness to one of the earliest skirmishes of the English Civil War.

In an update, delivered to Solihull Council earlier this evening, experts confirmed that the red sandstone blocks had been loaded onto pallets and retained.

While there are hopes the masonry might form a feature somewhere along the rail route, the possibility of rebuilding the gatehouse in its entirety elsewhere appears to have been ruled out.

Hayley James, HS2's archaeology and heritage advisor, suggested this might have limited value now the blocks had been lifted from their original setting.

"We may not aim to reconstruct it," she said, when asked by Meriden councillor Andrew Burrow if this was an option under consideration.

"One of the most important things about archaeology is it having its context.

"Once it is not where it originally was, it does lose a little bit of its significance."

But she said the aim was to work with the rail project's design team to put the materials to use in a "creative and informative way".

The scale of the gatehouse at the moated manor house was entirely unknown before teams got to work a few years ago.

Around 200 marks from muskets and pistols pockmarked the walls, fuelling the theory that there was a confrontation there almost 400 years ago.

The possible link with the Civil War comes from the fact that the first recorded battle of the conflict took place at nearby Curdworth Bridge in August 1642.

The find was significant enough to feature in an episode of Digging for Britain - the BBC series presented by Prof Alice Roberts - earlier this year.

"I was amazed at just how much of the monumental stone building, with its two great octagonal towers, had survived below the ground," she said.

Excavations at sites of historic significance have been taking place across the length of the Birmingham to London rail link.

While a number of important finds have been made, the intention has never been to keep discoveries in-situ since many of the trenches have been dug on land earmarked for development.

Information on other excavations in the Solihull area, highlighted at this week's meeting of the HS2 implementation advisory group, will feature in a future post.

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Ringing the changes: A campaign to save our red boxes

GOOD CALL: A booth in Bickenhill now stocking books

"BUT phone boxes aren't buildings," some of you might be grumbling. Let's be honest many of them aren't even phone boxes these days, but we'll come on to that.

It's certainly self-evident that the classic kiosks I'll be writing about this week are obviously not the same as farm cottages or shops. They can, however, fall under the wider umbrella of what are often called "heritage assets".

I'm keen to try and avoid overloading this blog with technical terms, not least because "A tour of the borough's heritage assets" is not the catchiest title.

But it's still interesting that something we might dismiss as the thing from which we used to call cabs is an important part of Solihull's history.

It's coming up to a 100 years since the first of the now famous red boxes appeared in the UK and with the design having become something of a cultural icon there's often a strong attachment to them.

And if you don't believe me then take the word of Historic England - which has national responsibility for listing historically important landmarks. They have written an entire booklet on preserving so-called street furniture, including bollards, street lamps, post boxes and, yes, phone booths.

Still not convinced? Then consider how a number of communities across Solihull have already stepped in to ensure the future of their local kiosk.

As long ago as 2008, parish councillors in Bickenhill agreed a deal with BT to take on responsibility for their red box - paying just £1 for the privilege.

Announcing the decision, then chairman Frank Bunce had described the structure, in St Peter's Lane, as "an iconic British image that is so synonymous with a village landscape."

HISTORY CALLING: The box adoption in the news 
Solihull Times: October 2008

At the time the agreement was innovative enough to make the front page of the Solihull Times, but the villagers in fact turned out to be "early adopters" of a scheme that has become increasingly popular around the country.

A number of other Solihull communities have moved to ensure that their own booths are secure, in an era when an ever increasing number - especially in more rural locations -  are being disconnected from the telecoms network.

In Berkswell several boxes have been transformed into miniature book exchanges; this proved especially useful during the pandemic, when Covid restrictions forced the closure of the village's branch library.

While at Millisons Wood, near Meriden, it was decided to turn a defunct kiosk into a first response station, complete with a life-saving defibrillator.

The affection for the boxes today may have come as a surprise to some of those around for the initial installation, when the eye-catching shade of red often caused public concern.

Indeed there were more than a few pleas for kiosks to be painted in more muted colours, especially in leafier settings.

Such calls bear striking similarities with debates that still rage today over the installation of infrastructure; in 2020 councillors agreed a 20 metre phone mast in Shirley on condition that it be camouflaged with a coat of "Solihull green" paint.

The fact that the now widely-admired phone boxes were the subject of similarly heated discussions pre-war goes to show that yesterday's eyesores can yet become iconic within a few generations. 

Hence the fervor of forward-thinking residents' groups moving to prevent former communication hubs becoming urination hubs - or worse. 

The danger is that, without action, these features will fall into disrepair and in time be at risk of disappearing altogether. This is why conservationists more widely are always keen to ensure that options to find new uses are regularly reviewed.

With kiosks in particular, expect this trend to continue as the demand for landlines increasingly declines. Indeed, only last month BT announced that a further 36 phone boxes across the West Midlands - including one in Solihull - would be made available for adoption.

Notably the scheme has escaped the effects of sky-high inflation, with the asking price for "owning a piece of history" still set at a pound.

Know your phone boxes: The first of the famous red boxes arrived on British streets in 1926, although in a scenario still rather too familiar today the K2 model was largely restricted to London. Later iterations were, of course, rolled-out rather more widely. Indeed it was the K6, the first widely installed outside the capital, which arguably cemented the status of the kiosk. This particular version was designed in 1935 to commemorate the Silver Jubilee of King George V. Public usage of boxes continued to grow and peaked in around 1990, when there were 100,000 in use nationwide. Although  the arrival of mobile phones has since driven a long-term decline and by 2021 the number of boxes still in use had fallen to 20,000.