WHERE’S THE TRUE CENTRE?
On Meriden village green in the West Midlands (formerly Warwickshire), a 1951 plaque declares that the wayside cross above it marks the traditional centre of England (below). Meriden enjoys this age-old claim, despite being challenged by modern mapping techniques. In 2002, Ordnance Survey (OS) used satellite technology to place England’s geographical centre 11 miles away, on a private farm in Fenny Drayton, Leicestershire. As an OS spokesperson told local press, though: “You’ll never win an argument against tradition.”
brother Robert had been given Kenilworth Castle by Elizabeth I. Robert was the queen’s favourite suitor until his death in 1588; the only man she would have married. His alterations, architecturally and politically ambitious, are visible throughout the castle grounds today and the story of his thwarted desire is told comprehensively by English Heritage. Stairs and viewing platforms installed in Leicester’s Building allow visitors to ascend the red sandstone ruins and look out to the Warwickshire Queen Elizabeth would have seen during the whirl of banqueting, sport and dancing that accompanied her royal progress. Two years after Elizabeth’s death, a group of provincial English Catholics schemed to blow up the Houses of Parliament. The history of several Warwickshire families is charged through with links to the Gunpowder Plot, including the Throckmortons of Coughton Court and possibly the Ferrers of Baddesley Clinton.
The latter house, magnificent and moated, has priest-holes, and a tale of earlier intrigue. One day in 1485, the lord of the manor Nicholas Brome came home to find a man “chockinge” (‘chucking’ or stroking) Brome’s wife Elizabeth “under ye chinne”. In a jealous rage, Brome drew his sword and killed the stranger, only to discover he had murdered the Rector of St James. For this killing, and the earlier death of a steward in a fight, Brome was ordered to pay penance, which included renovating the local church. And so the towers of St Michael’s Church in Baddesley Clinton and St Giles in Packwood are known as the Towers of Atonement.
It seems Brome carried his remorse to the grave because, upon a request stated in his will, he was buried standing upright in St Michael’s: “Within the church door as the people may tread upon mee as they cone [sic] into the church”.
Baddesley Clinton and Packwood House – two more names hinting at Warwickshire’s sylvan past – are managed by the National Trust and worth visiting in one day, especially if you can make the four-mile walk between estates, partly following the canal towpath. Packwood’s yew trees are startling: over 350 years old, they’re clipped into curious conical and cylindrical shapes. When I learned the topiary may represent evangelists and apostles at the Sermon on the Mount I smiled a bit guiltily. Because that would mean the arbour overseeing them all – the one with the spiral pathway my boys love to hurtle down yelling “Helterskelter!” – is meant to be Jesus. I’ll urge them to proceed more reverently in future.
But I’m glad they have the trees and rural scenes of Warwickshire in the landscape of their childhood. Blessed are they who enjoy the endlessly captivating heart of England.
“PACKWOOD’S YEW TREES ARE CLIPPED INTO CURIOUS CONICAL SHAPES”