Barton Village History
Barton in Fabis is a rural parish bordering the City Boundary close to the summit of Mill Hill. As its name suggests, this was once the site of an old windmill, which no doubt served as a very prominent landmark for many miles around, standing alone on this exposed hilltop. Approaching from Clifton, the first sight of the parish is to the east, when a spectacular view breaks out over Clifton Pastures, Barton and Gotham Moors: originally a vast open area, with no obvious signs of human habitation - a real no-mans land. Nowadays new development in the form of Fairham Pastures has encroached on the moor .A little further on, the wooded slopes of Gotham Hills come into view, forming a dramatic backdrop to the parish boundary in the south. As the traveller leaves the main road they enter the village 'gateway', formed by the trees which surround Barton Lodge and Keeper's Cottage. On passing through this leafy arbour the viewer gradually sees the village emerge; a cluster of houses, with trees in equal number, resting serenely alongside the water meadows of the River Trent.
The informed visitor will not immediately enter the village but pause a while, look north, and enjoy the impressive escarpment of Brandshill Wood rising majestically from the floodplain. Many people use the ancient bridlepath running under the wood and take pleasure in the flora and fauna it contains. Others, perhaps even some of those who visited when Barton Ferry provided a regular service to Attenborough, head west through the village, re-emerging by the Trent to take in the view of the nature reserve across he river, and the abundance of bird life to be seen on the water. After a while, some may continue on heir way southward towards our neighbouring parish of Thrumpton. It would, however, be a missed opportunity if a visit was not paid to the beautiful 14th century Church of St George, to reflect on the charming surroundings, and to appreciate the history contained within its walls .....
It may not be fancy to think that Barton has played a part in one of the great dramas of English history. In the early hours of a May morning, over 300 years ago, villagers might have heard the hard galloping of a small company of horsemen on their way to the river, little dreaming that a king was passing by on a fateful journey, his last ride as a free man.
In 1646, when Charles Stuart had resolved to give himself up to the Scots, he set out for Southwell, reaching Stamford on 31 st May. It is believed that he crossed the Trent near Gotham in his anxiety to miss Nottingham, and if this is were so, nothing is more likely than that he would cross by Barton Ferry, and ride on past the very door of Henry lreton's old home at Attenborough. lreton was one of the Royalists' most feared and hated enemies, and also one of the finest characters on the Parliamentary side. He certainly played a major role in the downfall of Charles Stuart, for it was he who drew up the Army's Remonstrance, which was to help seal the King's doom.
There is no doubt that this story is linked in some way with a more supernatural tale, whereby it is said that fishermen, on the bank of the Trent at Barton Ferry, are used to the sight of a bedraggled platoon of mounted Roundheads wade across the river towards the church at Attenborough!
As with most small rural communities, agriculture has been the mainstay of Barton's economy for many hundreds of years, although the last fifty years have seen the village's reliance on this way of life dramatically decline. During Saxon times villagers held strips of land which they worked with teams of oxen, on a three year rotation, under the supervision of Barton Manor Court. This was known as The Three Field or Open Field System, and the undulations of the ridge and furrow ploughing can still be seen around the village today. By 1086 the Domesday Book recorded Barton to be a thriving community of over 200 persons and 11 plough teams.
Come medieval times, certain areas of land within the parish were used for communal grazing of livestock owned by the villagers. Up until the 2nd World War fields at the end of Chestnut Lane and the hills adjacent to Brandshill Wood were still used in this way, along with more marginal land on Barton Moor, and the grassland of Clifton Pastures. In fact some residents still remember cultivating the old style ridge and furrow strips on the moor, as well as spending many hours driving cattle from the village to Clifton Pastures for fresh grazing.
During the reign of Henry V111, Barton was noted for the copious amount of coarse beans it produced, although no doubt some cereals were also grown. Moving through the centuries it appears little changed, for a document from 1910 tells us that the chief crops grown were wheat, barley, oats, roots and beans - obviously by the beginning of the 20th century the village was still living up to its name! In fact, the landscape itself probably changed very little from late Tudor times until the Enclosure Act of 1759 which saw many of the open fields divided up by hawthorn hedges and the virtual end to 'common rights'. Fortunately, in Barton, some of the common land was preserved, for Barton Moor and Clifton Pastures were never enclosed, and the latter was said to be the largest unenclosed area of farmland in Britain. Interestingly the minutes of the 'Barton Meeting' record, in the inter-war period, the appointment of a Moor Master and Overseer Hay Warden and Guardian to manage these areas.
However, the advent of World War 2 and the ensuing years dramatically altered the agricultural scene. Any land that was not used for arable farming came under pressure to grow crops and the villagers' rights to common land were taken away and never returned. But most significant of all as agents for change were tractors, and the farm horse, that steady and trusty worker on whom man had relied for hundreds of years began to lose its central position on the farm. Nevertheless one local farmer, Harry Plowright, was determined to carry on the heavy horse tradition in Barton. Up until the early 1970's his shires could be seen plodding around the village taking feed to the beef cattle kept in the yards. One old horse, Myra, knew the route so well she could make the trips unaccompanied! Harry's passion was always for greys, and he supplied Shipstone's Brewery with horses from 1946, until they discontinued horse-drawn deliveries in the 1970's. Undeterred, he then went on to sell to Whitbread's until his death in 1990.
Sadly, these days are now gone, and mechanisation continues apace, yet Barton's soil remains fertile and productive for those who work it today.
The Clifton family had been resident in the village which bears their name since 1284, but the 'lordship' of Barton did not come into their possession until the early 18th century, when Elizabeth Sacheverell married George Clifton. They were to be the last great landowners of Barton.
The member of this family who perhaps left the most permanent legacy to the parish was General Sir Arthur Benjamin Clifton who, in 1839, had Barton Lodge built at the entrance to the village. The house was described in White's Directory of 1844 as 'a beautiful mansion occupying a commanding eminence on the eastern side of the village. 'As Lieutenant General Colonel of the 1st Royal Dragoons, he fought in the Battle of Waterloo and for his heroic deeds was awarded the KCB (Knight Commander of the Order of Bath). In 1837, he succeeded his brother as Squire and it is thought he had The Lodge at Barton built as a dower house - although his mother never went to live there in the end. He was a great friend of the Byron family, particularly Admiral Byron from Newstead Abbey, and there is an 'avenue' in the grounds of The Lodge known as The Admiral's Walkway'. Sir Arthur went on to live to a ripe old age, and died in 1869, just a few months short of his 100th birthday.
During this century, the Clifton family were seen by the villagers as enlightened landlords and held in great regard. In the 1930's, all village children were invited every Christmas to a party in the Octagonal Room at Clifton Hall (with the added treat of being collected in the Moffrey Cart), whereas the adults would attend the New Year Ball. A Christmas tree was always given to Barton School, along with a present for every pupil - bought from Selfridges in London! Come the summer holidays, all the children returned to the Hall for an outdoor tea party. This was a particularly popular event as the Colonel organised different races, and the winners were rewarded with coins from the large 'money sack' he carried with him. Afterwards, the tired but happy participants were transported back to Barton in Mr Rice's horse and cart.
Sadly, the war years broke the tradition, and come the 1950's the Clifton Estate had been sold to the Nottingham City Corporation to form what was then the largest council estate in Western Europe. By 1960, the whole of Barton was up for sale to sitting tenants.
In the mid 18th century, Barton was becoming noted for the number of its dairies, and the cheese they produced. The Harrison family specialised in Colwick cheese, which they sold with their fruit and vegetables in Nottingham on Wednesdays and Saturdays. As well as sharing a stall in the Market Square, they supplied eminent local businesses including the Black Boy Hotel and King's Grocery Shop in Friar Lane. In 1928, they moved into the Central Market, and continued selling there until it closed.
Cheese making had its own routine and implements - milk was collected daily from local farmers, and put into a large panshun. Rennet (from the inner membrane of a cow's stomach) was used to separate the milk into curds and whey. After separation, the whey was skimmed off and the curds put into 8" tins to drain. The cheese was then taken out and put on boards to ripen off.
Along with some other local traditions, cheese making has not continued in the village, and to the best of our knowledge, Colwick cheese has disappeared too. It is still well remembered by older residents, who recall it being similar to Brie in appearance and consistency, although to them far superior in taste!
In 1734, lightning wrought such havoc with Brent's Hill (Brandshill), that it was said to resemble the effects of an earthquake, and in 1893, the church spire was severely damaged in the same way.
From Taverns to Tea-houses via Barton Ferry
Barton folk have never known a pub in the village within living memory (although the Village Hall does open its bar twice a week), but in 1676 it boasted two taverns to serve only '86 inhabitants of age to partake of the sacrament!' One old inn, known as The Elm Tree, was still serving at the turn of the 20th century, but for some reason the Clifton family had it closed. Whether this was due to rowdy goings-on of a Saturday night, or because of their own 'Victorian Values' no one can be sure, but Barton has never been known for its alehouses since!
Come Victorian times, the village was nevertheless renowned for its abundance of tea- houses, and it seemed almost every cottage would genially invite you to 'tea and hot water'. During the summer months people visited from far and wide (including from Nottingham itself), and no doubt part of the pleasure was the trip on the ferry from Attenborough where two flat-bottomed rowing boats were used to take passengers to and fro across the Trent. In the 1930's, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, it was common for 200 or more people to have queued on either bank of the Trent, waiting for George Chamberlain or his son Arthur, who lived at Ferry Cottage, to take them across. If on reaching the village the 'trippers' felt too hot for tea, then they could always sample the home-made ice cream served by the Towers family at Pear Tree Cottage. By the late 1940's, this tradition of teas had come to an end. Many of the quaint old cottages which served them were pulled down to make way for the new council houses, but the ferry continued to run. In the 1950's it was operated by Arthur Tindall, who lived at the ferry house (now demolished) on the Attenborough side of the river, and it was not unknown even for cattle to be brought over by boat! Amazingly, the service continued, (albeit spasmodically) until the early 1960s.
By 1870 Barton boasted its own cricket club, playing their home fixtures in William Rice's field near the Trent, by the Ferry. During summer months, the ritual was to remove cowpats from the outfield before play commenced, and then to often run cattle off the pitch during the match. Unfortunately, none of the old scorebooks survived, and we can only guess whether 'cattle stopped play' was formally recorded in them! Due to the Trent's proximity, balls were often lost, and money for replacements was raised by selling teas, which were carried from the village by members of the Harrison family.
Fixtures were mainly with other village sides, but organisation was rather haphazard. On one Saturday morning Barton's team set off for a match with Clifton Village, only to meet the Clifton team on the top of Mill Hill - travelling to their away fixture at Barton!
A family who at one time had 4 brothers in the team was the Picks - Buck, George, Philip and Johnny. Buck's grandson Andy played for Nottinghamshire CCC many years later, so the talent obviously passed through the generations. The team eventually disbanded in 1963, when Colonel Clifton sold all his land, including the cricket pitch, which was turned over to arable use.
The Village School
Records do not tell us when Barton School was first built, but they do reveal the village was without one in 1743, yet in 1832 a schoolmaster named John Barrow was in post. By 1874 the school had been enlarged and in 1882 a house was built for the schoolmistress, who at that time was a Miss Mary Newman. Come 1912 the school was classed as mixed Public Elementary, with 80 children on the roll and an average attendance of 53 - it would appear Frederick Wood (schoolmaster at that time) had more than a few truants to deal with! Come 1945 the register had dropped to 26 children who were taught in two groups by Mrs Deakin, the Headmistress, and Kath Robertson.
Many people still living in the village today fondly remember Mrs Deakin, and past pupils often recount amusing stories from their days at Barton School. On one occasion a certain young boy did not wish to spend the weekend learning his part for the school play, no doubt preferring to be off playing football or cricket. By chance Mrs Deakin overheard him saying, 'Not even the King 'imself could make me learn those lines!', yet come Monday morning the lad knew the part by heart. Amazed, and also very pleased, Mrs Deakin listened to him recite the lines without faltering and then calmly said, 'Well, I'm glad you think 1 have more authority than the King himself!'
Another story which illustrates the awe in which her pupils held her, tells of a concerned villager who had repeatedly seen a youngster smoking. The following day, Mrs Deakin stood at the front of the senior class and declared she would like the culprit to stand up and admit his or her guilt. Unfortunately the intended public shaming of a certain individual rather backfired when every pupil in the class stood up - apart from the one responsible!
Barton School finally closed in 1962. Unfortunately only 1 child out of a 17 attended school on the last day. No, the other 16 weren't protesting - they all had measles!
Happily, children's voices can still be heard echoing around the building due to the many community activities which now take place in what is now the Village Hall.
The old saying 'February fill-dyke' had particular relevance in Barton, for like many villages close to the Trent, it was prone to flooding. Near the village crossroads stands an old flood-marker which shows the height to which the water came in February 1795 - more than 5 feet above road level. 1736 was also a bad year for floods - Joseph Milner, Barton's Rector at that time wrote: "It began to rain on Fryday the second Day of July, 1736, about six in the Evening and continued raining incessantly till Monday following, about eight or nine in the morning, when the Trent swell'd to that Degree, that about five a clock the same evening the water was twelve or thirteen inches deep all over the Church Floor, which is the more remarkable, because the water was never Known to rise up to the wall of the Church, in the memory of the oldest person now alive."
During the 1950s and 60's, villagers would keep a close eye on the flood water once it reached Cottager's Gate at the end of Chestnut Lane, worrying as to whether another night of rain might mean all their furniture and carpets would have to be moved upstairs, and anything particularly heavy raised on bricks. Of course, all the children viewed their parents' ordeal as a big adventure whereby they might get the chance to sail along the village roads in a rowing boat; and in addition to the sandbags at the door were often ducks, and even swans, waiting to be fed! In the long run there was not much fun to be had, for once the water receded houses took many days to dry out, and the smell that remained was very unpleasant!
Fortunately, these unwelcome episodes in Barton's history were finally put paid to in 1968, with the construction of the present floodbank, which has so far withstood the test of time and torrential rain!
The Smithy (now known as The Forge) is one of the oldest cottages still standing in Barton today. During the time of the Sacheverells a great many dignitaries made regular visits to the Manor, and if their entourage of footmen, grooms and the like could not all be accommodated there, the attic room over the smithy was often used as their sleeping quarters.
As well as being home to the village blacksmith, it is thought once to have been a local ale-house and also the village bakery: certainly a very large old brick-built oven still stands in what is now the kitchen. However, it can be said with certainty that the Post Office was once situated there, and records from 1864, when John Oliver was blacksmith, state: 'Post Office at John Oliver's, letters arrive at 9.30 am and are despatched at 5.30pm' - obviously villagers did not expect to read the mail over breakfast in those days! A window on the east side of the house has the following inscription: 'Lizzie Oliver, Barton. June 7"' 1889' etched into the glass, and serves as a pleasant reminder of past occupants.
The blacksmith who lived and worked at The Smithy during living memory was Tom Mills, whose father George took over from the Olivers around the turn of the 20th century. Tom was a skilled man who could make shoes for the daintiest pony to the heaviest shire, along with mending farm implements, making field gates and producing extremely fine wrought-iron work, as seen on the display. He also possessed one most unusual skill (considering heavy work was his routine) and this was his ability to create the most intricate icing on wedding cakes ever imaginable. Right up until the 1960's, if a marriage was planned in the village, Sally (Tom's sister) was asked to bake the cake, to which Tom would add the artistic finish!
Although a motor car is now parked in the old shoeing shed, the adjoining smithy has been kept intact, and the ringing of a blacksmith's hammer can still be heard every so often over the garden wall as the last of Harry Plowright's grey shires is shod.
When travellers visit Barton for the first time and ask the whereabouts of the local shop, they are usually disappointed to find that none exists. However, from the 1860s through to the 1960s shopping facilities were abundant compared to today, particularly considering the size of the village. As already mentioned, the first recorded Post Office was at the Smithy, but at least six other houses have served this function through till 1998, when Ann Austin ended 18 years service from her home in Manor Road.
Barton children, like those everywhere, have always had a sweet tooth, and perhaps the best remembered sweet shop was 'Ruth's', at what is now The Old Post Office in Brown Lane. She started her shop in the 1930's from a tiny room in her old beamed cottage, took over the Post Office in 1947 and also sold some basic groceries and household items. The small shop window was always crammed with old-fashioned jars of colourful sweets and lollipops, there to entice passing children inside to spend their pocket money. In fact getting inside often presented a problem, as space only allowed five bodies at the most - two standing, whilst three sat waiting their turn on the old wooden pop crates lined up against the back wall. The pace of life in those days probably added to the cramped conditions as there was no rush to be in and out of the door, for shops like Ruth Sherman's acted as a focal point for community life. Here people could meet up, exchange views and gossip, or generally put the world to rights, which often proved a lengthy process!
For many years, there was a shop at the village crossroads, which in the 1930's and 40's was run by Jack and Doris Priestly as the Post Office and General Stores. Prior to this, it was both the village bakery and butchers, and it is said that if ever a body was found in the river, it also served as the local mortuary!
As well as the village shops, over the years Barton has been well served by mobile shops. The older villagers remember the Haywoods and the Smiths who brought freshly baked bread to Barton, and the pork seller whose visit every Tuesday night meant an ample supply of scratchings for the children! Mr Barks the paraffin seller is also remembered, but his sideline of groceries never seemed to sell so well perhaps nobody ever told the unfortunate fellow that they always smelt of paraffin!
These days people travel to Clifton or Nottingham to shop, but even in Victorian times Barton was not equipped to sell the finer things in life, and local carriers (including the Harrisons, Hibbards and Paynes) took passengers to Nottingham on Wednesdays and Saturdays to supplement their basic supplies. No doubt in those days a trip to the city was a major outing for village folk - how times have changed!
Every village needs its special occasions to bring people together, and in recent years few events compare with Barton's Flower and Vegetable Show. Even though it has only been a feature of village life over the last 15 years, the show has become one of the events which is eagerly anticipated, and provokes much banter, gossip and rumour before, during and after it takes place in early September. The Harrison family, who were market gardeners in Barton for several generations, are the driving force behind it, and are also the family everyone wants to beat - but rarely do! The show attracts entries from further afield than the village itself and competitors vie to see if their exhibits can match those grown in good Barton soil! In addition to the Produce Show, the community has many other activities centred around the village hall and the church. The village hall hosts parties, celebrations, the old people's luncheon club, whist drives (which attract people from outside the village), the mother and toddler's club, painting classes and more. In recognition of its contribution to community life, it was awarded the 'Best Run Village Hall in Nottinghamshire' prize in 1998. The beautiful old Rectory is the focus for the Garden Fete in June, and come July St George's Church provides the perfect setting for the colourful displays created for the annual Flower Festival.
From 40 dwellings in the early 18th century, Barton has now grown to 90 and is home to approximately 250 adults and children. It is a happy, thriving community made up of people from all walks of life, and although many changes have been seen over the years the parish has retained its essentially rural character and local distinctiveness:-