We are a nation that loves its ancient woods and trees. We prize our sturdy oaks, craggy pines, bluebells and primroses, badgers and dormice. We value the history and heritage of places that have been woodland since before the Norman Conquest. But only a generation ago we were all set to wipe them out. It was said that in the space of just 30 years, nearly half of our ancient woods were destroyed. How and why did this happen? And who prevented them all being lost? A Tale of Trees features the voices of those who cut down the woods and those who saved what was left. It is a story full of tragedy and heroism, ingenuity and blindness. And it will inspire the reader to go out and explore more ancient woods, and delight in our natural treasures.
Woodlands nestle deep within our national psyche; they have been the origins of myths, fairy tales and legends for millennia. They have fed us with the fruits from the under-storey, sheltered us with their trunks and the offcuts have kept us warm. The more ancient a forest, the more we seem to love it. Vast oaks, swathes of bluebells and woodland animals just add to the deeply ingrained feelings we have for these places.
Woodlands that we almost lost for ever.
Post World War Two, these most ancient of place came under sustained attach from government, farmers and even the Forestry Commission; the very people supposedly charged with looking after these assets. The spectre of profit over ecosystems loomed large, and in thirty years, yes just thirty years we lost half of our ancient forests. In this tale of doom and gloom were sparks of hope though. People who were passionate about their local woods stood up to landowners and the government; rogue commission employees to matters into their own hands and the rise of the conservation and wildlife trusts lobbied and bought woods and coppices under threat.
Some of the events he writes about are quite shocking, copses that were hundreds of years old, decimated in a few days. Other stories of rogue Forestry Commission employees, who though it was wiser to ignore the wishes of the management and the stock plan saved some of these woodlands. The deep passion Niemann has for his subject is evident throughout the book, His soft lyrical voice has given us a really wonderfully written book on the ancient forests that dot our landscape, and the fight that people have undertaken to save them and bring them back from the brink of the abyss. They still aren’t completely safe, but the evidence showing the benefit to our landscape and wellbeing is now evident, and these green jewels of our countryside have a much better future.
This wasn’t quite as interesting as I had hoped. It read more as a forestry type book into great detail about the introduction at various stages over a period of time of conifers and deforestation of existing woods. I found the discussion around ancient woods very interesting and far removed from what we have in Australia. It is has piqued my interest in different tree types and gave me pause to think about how we cultivate the land.
A Tale of Trees, by Derek Niemann, provides a potted history of British woodland, and details the devastation caused after the Second World War when farmers and other landowners were subsidised first by the government and then by the Common Market to bulldoze their plots of ancient woodland in order to convert them to arable use or conifer plantations. All land was expected to be managed with the aim of maximising economic return. To these modernisers, wood was simply a slow growing crop.
The author explains the difference in ecology between ancient woodland, mixed use replanting and regimented conifer plantations. The benefits of ancient woodland to the fragile ecosystem was not taken into account in the drive for increased food and timber production after the war. A complex habitat that had taken millenia to create could not quickly nor easily be replaced. The skills required to maintain such an environment can be lost in a generation.
This is a fascinating, beautiful but hauntingly poignant account of the damage caused by short term, ill advised human thinking. Many fret over the loss of ancient buildings, works of art and historic artifacts yet fail to appreciate the value of what man working sensitively with nature, of which he is a part, has created over many centuries. There is beauty but also utility. It is only in recent years, too late for large swathes of ancient woodland now lost forever, that value is being understood. A healthy ecosystem is an asset, even if this cannot be measured in monetary terms, and is required for healthy people as well as other living things.
To stem the destruction, support was required from government which had financially encouraged such actions – described in the book as being akin to setting a madman loose in an art gallery with a Stanley knife.
“He has signed a petition to parliament that has a straightforward demand: Give all ancient woodland statutory legal protection. Surely that’s not beyond the bounds of possibility, since there are so few of them?
He has sent me the reply he received […] Woodland cover in England is at its highest level since the 14th century. Perhaps this may be true, but […] If the paintings of the National Gallery were at risk, would we be happy with a response that said Britain has lots of paintings?”
With the benefit of hindsight it is difficult to understand how such desecration was allowed let alone encouraged, yet when there is money to be made such actions are still all too easy to believe. Protections are seen by some as a nuisance. Valuable assets to be managed for the benefit of all can be resented by those thereby prevented from maximising their personal monetary gain. Consider how art is purchased for investment potential rather than aesthetic appreciation.
Although dealing with a specialist subject the writing is clear and accessible. Anyone who has enjoyed the peace and beauty of a bluebell wood will have sympathy with those who fought to save these national treasures. What this book offers is an understanding of how much additional value they provided – their loss is devastating. That some are now attempting to do what they can to reverse the damage is a beacon of hope.
My copy of this book was provided gratis by the publisher, Short Books.
This was a fantastic book. I didn't know anything about the topic, but it was easy to read and really, really interesting. The evolution of how we came to think about woods and forests and why they matter was engrossing and actually made me feel like getting involved.
This is a good and useful book, however I found it a little too brief. It's lay-person orientated but the professional arborist, forester, conservationist or ecologist new to the post-war history of Britain's ancient woodlands will find this a springboard into the subject.