Day 123 - "Slaughter"-ing the weather

Lady Jane Tanqueray of Alton Towers, drink in hand, awoke in her room in the West Wing of the Queen of the Cotswolds' Moreton in Marsh estate in the upper environs of Old Market Way. She peered out the window and realized that somehow her order for a warm, sunny day had not been heeded. Someone somewhere was going to lose their heads.

But never one to be daunted by a lack of cooperation from Mother Nature or the help, Lady Jane arrived in the breakfast room of the estate fully kitted out for a walk in the countryside.

Apologizing for the smell of upper crust money in her SUV (that's horse poo to the uninitiated) we were soon racing down the old Roman road, skirting Stow on the Wold, and onward to Bourton on the Water, where we park at the far end of town in a car park next to Birdland. [Aside: I have now been to Bourton too many times to remember and have never ventured into Birdland. The River Windrush passes through the site, and while it looks intriguing, there has always been a walk calling out elsewhere...perhaps before we leave the Cotswolds a bird-lover will visit and entice me to go inside?]

Aerial view of Slaughter Farm. You can make out the footpath
in the field to the bottom left, and then just barely
see it continue almost straight north across the next field.

Despite the weather forecast calling for light rain most of the day, we really only encountered an occasional gentle mist, nothing even requiring the umbrella to go up. We headed northwest out of Bourton following the Windrush, but avoiding the shops and tearooms that were trying to tempt us in. Crossing over the A429, we headed uphill traversing across the only slightly muddy fields of Slaughter Farm, before joining up with an unnamed country road that led further uphill to the village of Upper Slaughter.

Lady Jane gets it straight from the horse's mouth.

On the way, Lady Jane's horse whispering skills were made apparent as she enticed one over for a nose scratch despite not having any "pony pellets" or "stud muffins" in her rucksack. I was regaled with other ways one can make a horse your friend, but I shall leave that information to Lady Jane to choose to share in a forthcoming guest blog if she so desires. We continued along the road into Upper Slaughter without passing another soul and only one car at a country intersection we came to.

The River Eye flows through Upper and Lower Slaughter.
Source: cotswolds.com

If you've been following our blog in earnest and lapping up every last detail (is anyone still reading this? Ha!), you will remember that we mentioned Upper and Lower Slaughter on a walk we took on Day 9. The name has nothing to do with killing animals, although I am sure that happens fairly regularly on the surrounding farms. The word "Slaughter" comes from the old English word 'Slohtre' which means either 'muddy place' or 'miry place' depending on which Old English Dictionary you pull from your book shelf.  The River Eye (very tiny for a 'river') joins up the two villages, before joining up with the Windrush.

Lords of the Manor Hotel in
Upper Slaughter. Source:
www.lordsofthemanor.com

At one time a Norman castle dominated the village, but all that's left of it today are the remains of the motte (the raised earthwork on which it was built) and bailey (an enclosed courtyard surrounded by a protective ditch).

A gabled manor house dominates the picture-perfect Upper Slaughter. It is now a luxury hotel with the ever-so-appropriate name Lords of the Manor Hotel. The oldest part of the house dates from the 15th century, but the front is Elizabethan.

The villages of Upper Slaughter and Lower Slaughter.

We looked around the village and the lovely St. Peter's church. The pathway leading into the church is carved into the surrounding churchyard. This leaves you looking straight onto the headstones of the many ancient graves...and leaves you wondering as to how many bodies have been buried here over the centuries to have raised the ground to this level!

Upper Slaughter is one of only 53 villages in the UK that did not lose anyone in the First World War. A variety of terms are used to describe these villages: Sainted, Thankful and Blessed. In fact, Upper Slaughter is consider one of only 14 that did not lose any village members to the Second World War either. It is a beautiful, quiet place, and I'm those who have the pleasure of living here fell the magic.

Lady Jane enjoys a prime spot next to the large fireplace
at The Slaughters pub.

From Upper Slaughter we paralleled the river passing over muddy sheep filled fields on our way downhill to Lower Slaughter, where people are said to have lived for at least 1,000 years. A entry in the Domesday Book calls the village "Sclostre," and shows that the manor house in Lower Slaughter belonged to the Sheriff of Gloucestershire in 1066 and 1086. I wonder if he'd be upset to know that Lady Jane and I made our way into the pub are of the manor house in our muddy hiking boots with mud splattered halfway up our walking trousers!

The River Eye widens here, and was probably at one time a natural ford. It makes for a place to take lovely pictures as several footbridges pass over it. With a 19th-century water mill at one end, and the 13th-century St Mary the Virgin Church at the other ... along with beautiful homes and manor houses in between ...it is no wonder it is one of the most photographed villages in the Cotswolds.

The Slaughters Country Inn.
Source: http://www.theslaughtersinn.co.uk

The pub where Lady Jane and I stopped in for a coffee (or two), is part of what is today The Slaughters Country Inn. It is the kind of place that looks at once posh and yet warm and inviting. We entered through the narrow passageway, apologized to the barkeep and asked if it would be okay if we sat inside despite our muddy appearance. We were welcomed to take any seat in the pub, so chose two comfy chairs seated next to a large wall-sized fireplace in which a fireplace was roaring. To say we didn't want to leave would have been a gross understatement...which is why we lingered over a second coffee.

We walked back into Bourton admiring the snow drops and crocuses growing along the edge of the path and even some daffodils that held promise they could burst open any day. This time, we did get drawn into The Cornish Bakery for a cornish pasty.

From here we went on to Broadway Tower (but I'm going to save that until Monday to write about as that ended up being a work day and this blog post is getting rather lengthy).

A late afternoon rest was followed by a quickly thrown together dinner at the Queen of the Cotswolds flat, then it was over to The Bell pub for a G&T and to listen to the live music.

All in all, a good day that in the end not dampened at all by the weather. Just goes to prove...no matter the what the weatherman may forecast, when in the Cotswolds, put your boots on and get out there!