Who Killed The Bears?

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As the deluge of water poured from the sky, you could be forgiven for not believing in global warming. This was South West England. It was August. Where had the summer gone? July had been a complete write off for many. Rain. More rain. The likelihood was that the seasonal hotspots in Cornwall and Devon had not had a bumper summer. M5 motorway was packed nonetheless. Cars heading South, but noticeably more heading in the opposite direction. Progress was slow. I seem to write that a lot these days. I get it on rural back roads in Norfolk and Lincolnshire, but this was the M5 and the M42. Roadworks everywhere. A complete closure of the M42 was scheduled for the following weekend. The HS2 railway line is the reason. It is turning into a bit of a joke .... and that is before it has even opened. The politicians vanity project meant to "level up", which goes nowhere in particular, is obscenely expensive and doesn't actually address the real need in the proper North of England. Who really cares that is might shave 15 minutes off a rail journey down to London? The majority probably won't be able to find the fare anyway. We turned off on to the M50 and were mighty relieved. We were heading to the Wye Valley and the Forest of Dean.

The Forest od Dean is neither here nor there. It is kind of trapped in the triangle of Gloucestershire west of the Severn Estuary. It is very much still England, but within touching distance of Wales. The locals apparently like to say, "We're, not English, We're not Welsh. We're Foresters". An independent bunch then ..... untouched by the concerns of the outside world. As is customary before travelling to a new destination, I do a bit of research. Places to go, attractions to see - that sort of thing. I came across the story of the bears. I began to think we were headed towards the local equivalent of Hartlepool, who have been much maligned by the country at large for their misinterpretation of a monkey dressed in a French uniform at the time of the Napoleonic Wars. The story probably sums up the Forest. "Who killed the bears?" It goes back to 26 April 1889. A merry band of 4 Frenchmen were travelling round the area, making a living entertaining the locals with their 2 bears. A performance completed in Cinderford, they made towards the village of Ruardean. An angry mob confronted them after false stories spread, which suggested that the bears had killed a child and injured a woman. The bears were killed and the Frenchmen beaten up. The Police intervened 13 locals were charged in front of the magistrates at nearby Littledean with killing the bears and assaulting the Frenchmen. The majority were found guilty of the charges and fined the current equivalent of £10,000. The people of Cinderford blamed the good folk of Ruardean for the misdemeanors, but those convicted were in fact all from the former. We crossed Cinderford off the list of things to do. The question "Who killed the bears?" is apparently still traded as an insult, in the same way as "Who hung the monkey?" is aimed at Poolies everywhere. Ruardean actually has a much more heralded claim to fame. It was the birthplace of James and William Horlick, who went on to found the the worldwide enterprise selling their hot malt drink - Horlicks. If you were thinking the product was perfected in Chicago or New York, think again. It was actually developed in a shed in the 1860s, that still stands behind the Malt Shovel pub.

It is easy to think of the Forest as some sort of rural idyll. Trees. Plenty of trees. Rural vistas and smaller sized market towns. Sheep still wander freely in parts - the rights of the locals to graze their livestock on common and linger on. It was not always so. The Forest was at the centre of industry. The raw materials for industrial projects were immediately to hand - iron ore, coal, timber and water. The original mines in the area were all focused on thd extraction of iron ore, but coal was widespread. We think of traditional pit areas - Yorkshire, the North East, Lancashire, South Wales - not the Forest. Over half the local male population was employed in coal mining in 1945. There was a tradition of freemining and the last big pit only stopped production in 1965. On the outskirts of Coleford, the Whitecliff Furnace still stands as one of the few examples left in the South of the England. The visitors book ..... thoughtfully secured in a Tupperware box at the site ..... suggested few go to the trouble of finding it. A certain Robert Mushet was a key local figure in the industry and is commemorated on a mural in town. The Men of Iron and Steel. Mushet's father had been an original partner in Whitecliff, but moved on to found his own furnace at Darkhill. He retired to Monmouth and Robert took over the business. A steelworks - the Titanic Steelworks - was also established. Mushet's main achievement was to perfect a special steel, which hard enough to form the base of a tool making operation. The business would eventually relocate to Sheffield.l

Lydney Harbour was the gateway for a lot of the industry in the Forest. Roads aren't great now and probably close to non existent at the time of the industrial revolution. The huge locks at Lydney provided the gateway to the Severn Estuary and helped negotiate the rise and fall in the water levels that come with the tides. Photos on the information boards highlight the hive of activity that once thronged your view, as coal barges and cargo were loaded. People were scarce on this Saturday afternoon - driven indoors by the earlier downpours. The cafe had shut up shop for the day. We didn't linger. FA Cup football was on the agenda just up the road. Lydney Town of the Hellenic League were entertaining the interestingly named, Roman Glass St George in the Extra Preliminary Road. St George ... the oldest football club in Bristol .... had made the short journey over the Severn Bridge in a minibus that looked like it had similar vintage too. The football was sort of Northern League standard without the constant fouling. A poor clearance by the Lydney goalkeeper brought about the moment of class the away fans (and neutrals) had been waiting for. St George controlled the errant clearance near the half way line and it was lobbed back over the fast retreating keeper into the unguarded net. The goalkeeper got a glove on it, but could only help it into the roof of the goal. The goal was reminiscent of Beckham's goal at Selhurst Park all those years ago. The lead was short lived. Lydney snatched a speedy equaliser to set up Lydney with a trip over the Severn on the forthcoming Wednesday. They would comprehensively lose the replay 5-2, so Wembley is off limits once again.

The Iron and Steel mural is joined in Coleford by their literary tribute. Dennis Potter, best known for his Pennies From Heaven and the Singing Detective, was a Berry Hill boy. He is joined on the gable end of a house on the main road by poets, Joyce Latham and FW Harvey. We retreated for a coffee in the surprisingly good, Art of Coffee, just off the Square. It also seemed to have found a niche in the wine bar and cocktails market at the back end of the day. Coleford was quite a bustling place, snarled up by traffic caused by some long term roadworks. The old and new businesses rubbed shoulders. The new Lidl seemed to be causing a stir, as traditional ventures eyed the competition. We made a purchase in one shop to be greeted by, "Welcome to Coleford, Welcome to the Forest. You are most welcome". Old fashioned service still rules. I eyed a micro pub for later in the day, but in the end we opted for a long walk into the Wye Valley. The goal at the end was Ye Old Ferrie Inn, which has been around since 1473. The River Wye was buzzing on a sunny midweek afternoon. Pleasure boats cruised and the canoe hire business. The Ye Old Ferrie Inn was on the opposite bank at Symonds Yat West. There is no bridge, so it is a £2 fare on a hand pulled barge across to the other side. Dogs are free. You obviously have to come back, so it puts missing the last bus into perspective. The pub on the other side - the Saracens Head - runs a similar operation, a tourists seek access to the Simonds Yat Rock attraction. Both pubs serve some exceedingly good real ales, but tables can be at a premium. It was a seriously long climb back out of the valley to our base with some quite steep steps. They were beyond a Norfolk Terrier leg height, so unfortunately I was tasked with carrying a 5.8 kg dog back up to the flat paths of the Forest above. The Rock provided some wonderful views across the valley. Birds of prey circled, deer stumbled across our path on the quieter stretches near our accommodation. The closest we came to the much discussed other locals - the wild boar - was in a burger form on a plate in the Saracens Head.

We had arranged to meet someone in Chepstow during our visit, so headed across the border into Wales. I had high expectations of Chepstow with an imposing Castle standing guard over the lowest bridging point over the River Wye. It is only 2 miles further downstream to Severn Estuary and the force of the tide was obvious, as the water rushed seaward. The sun was shining and all looked good. We found a convenient street park for the car to save charges and spent our money on entry into the Castle. We actually bought a 3 day pass for the heritage attractions in Wales with a view to completing a few during our week. The Castle allowed the Normans to control access into South Wales and the town prospered. It wasn't until the Civil War that the power of the Castle declined. Trade was enhanced by the timber in the Forest of Dean and as late as 1795, the port of Chepstow was outstripping the trade done by Cardiff, Swansea and Newport combined. The rise of the latter only came with industrialisation and the need to export the tonnage produced by the South Wales coalfield. Shipbuilding continued to play a part up to the First World War and a National Shipyard was established to put together prefabricated ships for the war effort. Georgian houses prevailed in the lower town ....... presumably built by the merchants who prospered. Today, fancy apartments are being built by the river to tap into the market for waterside living. A band was playing on the green by the river. Deck chairs splayed out on to the grass for the impromptu audience. We walked across the Old Wye Bridge back into Gloucestershire. Ver sat in the centre with one foot .... well one paw ..... in England and one in Wales. It was a sign for the week ahead, as we hopped back and forth between the two.

Appendix 1

FA Cup Extra Preliminary Road

Lydney Town FC 1 Roman Glass St George FC 1

Venue: Recreation Ground, Swan Road, Lydney. Gloucestershire. GL15 5RU

Date: Saturday 5th August 2023 @ 1500 Hours

Attendance: 177

Scorers: J Sheen 63 Mins (Lydney Town), Gilchrist 58 Mins (Roman Glass St George)

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Photos

Symonds Yat West
Ye Old Ferrie Inn

Coleford
Whitecliff Furnace

Lydney Town FC v Roman Glass St George
FA Cup Extra Preliminary Round

Comments

[Rainyb]

Interesting1
Love that bridge!