What's in a name?
Enough to make you want to explore a place in the heart of the coalfields of the Midlands with a name as exotic as 'de la Zouch.' 'Stretton en Le Field' on the run into Ashby was a more prosaic introduction to get the Norman theme rolling and the mind boggling at the somewhat suspect etymology. Delusions of grandeur fit the bill in this area but full marks are awarded for trying to polish an area that was a blasted wasteland of mines and quarries. Efforts to rebrand and invigorate places which have more appropriate names like 'No Man's Heath' are numerous. The hope and power of rediscovery is evident in the new designation of the 'National Forest'. The tourist office in Ashby describes attempts to turn the area from black to green and long time residents talk of a recent past when open cast mines turned washing grey and coal trucks swept by in a mist of grime and soot, turning buildings black with pollution.
What greets you now is brown sign overload pointing out the density of bumbling possibilities in such a small area, many of which celebrate this grimy past. 'Moira Furnace' is one such oddity and a nod to communities working together to bring the riches of an industrial heritage to light for a new generation. Moira is a once beleaguered mining town being reinvented as a commuter base for Midlands cities. Its showpiece is a renovated memory of the industrial revolution on a restored section of the Ashby canal. The canal stops at Moira and never reached Ashby and the furnace is a relic of attempts to smelt iron and transport it down to Bedworth and beyond. This idea was soon superseded by the bounty of the rich seams of coal which allowed the canal to thrive for a while. Enterprising local energy has restored a section of canal and a barge is waiting to transport visitors down this pretty stretch to Donisthorpe. A Sustrans cycle path runs beside the canal and the buildings have been converted to a museum and World War 1 kitchen. It is a fascinating but contained glimpse into our industrial heritage allowing a consumable insight into the hopes and fallibilities of entrepreneurial industrialists hoping to ride the boom trailblazed by places like Coalport. An engine house produced the steam power to blast the furnace, the bridge allowed raw materials coke, limestone and iron ore to be lifted onto the bridge loft and dumped into the stack. The result would be molten iron at the base of the stack which could be moulded and barged back down the canal. The genius of this industry must have made the aspirationally named Earl of Moira think he had struck black gold in 1804. I love these Earldoms and was heartened to recently discover that there was indeed an Earl of Dudley!
However, the boom only lasted two years as there was no need for such heavy lifting when the materials offered up by the landscape were in such demand. Let someone else do the dirty sweaty work, all the Earl had to do was dig and the minerals delivered riches. The canal survived the threat of the railways but not the damage to the environment caused by extensive mining. Subsidence closed it in times of austerity in 1944 a side effect felt in many areas of the Midlands. I grew up in a village where the coal board paid half the price of your house as they were deemed to be so badly damaged. Cracks in walls and uneven roads hinted at the vast network of tunnelling underground. Only later did tales of carpet bagging insurance claims such as a landlord who claimed his pub was collapsing make the fear of housing disasters less likely. A boon to those who had struck lucky through the coal boards largesse.
Like the railways by the late 1960's it was largely abandoned. I can imagine the apocalyptic scenes of post industrial middle England as my own early memory of canal systems is filthy dregs bunged up with rubbish and detritus. I remember the old canals by the old science museum in Birmingham, a grey sludge clogged up wth old bicycles and shopping trolleys. Which makes the restoration of 2000 look even more of a triumph over adversity. The will of the people is always something to behold and is a comforting sign that the UK has more people who want things to better than those who want to destroy and despoil. Our collective remembrance of the 70's is of an era when we were losing that battle which adds a touch of pride when seeing the realisation of such unrewarded exploits by local people passionate about bringing new life to their shared spaces. The River and Canals Trust is one of the most hard-working and driven charities in the UK full of plucky enthusiasts and skilled engineers willing to devote their spare tie to improving the landscape.
Anything goes in the passion to re-invent. In the 70's one can imagine this are as a desolate crumbling no man's heath returning to wilderness. Now it is a 'country park' striving for new trade with a large population within 30 miles looking for a day out and a happy bimble. Inspired by its close neighbour 'Conkers' its hard to feel cynical at this optimistic attempt to catch the eye of quizzical commuters blasting down the M42 corridor.
De la Zouch has long caught my eye but this time I was determined to explore rather than sprint by. To get a perspective there was only one place to start, atop the tower at the once opulent Ashby de la Zouch Castle. This is where I started to get the sense that the name defines the place, determined to punch above its weight and say boo to naysayers. Visitors may not expect much from this provincial ruined 'castle' which is billed as a rather overblown stately home but it has a character of its own. It immediately transports you to a world of the Mediaeval nouveau riche eager to establish their noble credentials through grandeur of building. Walls blasted by Parliamentarians reveal four stories of rooms with huge windows and as you climb the tower you get a panorama of the counties of Derbyshire, Leicestershire, Staffs and Notts that would have been the envy of guests more established in the nobility. To top it off why not give it a Gallic Norman twist and French it to the max. De la Zouch has de la soul and a fancy flavour brings a spring to the step as you bounce up the 94 steps savouring the jeu d'esprit of its custodians. There was once a fine time to be had in this castle and one can imagine the lavish parties in splendorous rooms lit by magnificent windows with views over the finest hunting grounds in merry England. It seems that the building was built to impress with sunken gardens and hunting lodges. In the now shaded, atmospheric ruins of the kitchens there are huge recesses where spits would turn roasting the deer and game bagged by the aspiring nobles while barrels of ale were transferred to fine diners through a network of tunnels by unseen servants. There is sense of energy and a reek of the best of country living, a feel that this castles inhabitants really enjoyed the place and wanted to impress.
Perhaps this sense of knowing you have got it good is what pervades the town today. I cycled through Ashby some years ago and thought little of the high street of faded glory but on closer inspection this town knows it has got it going on and maybe doesn't want to tell too many people what a good time it is having or it may lose some of its magic. It seems to state we have a good time here so pass. The Lido is a gem and there is enough charm in the town's bustle to invite the curious to explore the indoor market, juice cafes and delis. The tourist office and museum open the unsuspecting traveller to the less obvious delights of the wider area and its rich industrial heritage that may suggest a need to dwell a while. There is plenty to bimble about here as Hovis signs on bakeries hint at an oldyworldyness not quite realised yet as is a working town with enough to make it more than a stop for supplies. The future of such towns is tourism and I hope it gets on the foodie bandwagon, surely the Castle grounds would be ideal for a festival of local produce. A sealed knot event this weekend will hopefully prove a draw and beckons me for another visit now my zeal to explore further has been lit.
Lord Hastings Tower with 98 steps to the roof of the Midlands
