Pre-order now to discover the rich history of Britain's millennia-old network of pathways, and it will be impossible to take an unremarkable walk again... ________
Hundreds of thousands of miles of paths reach into, and connect, communities across England and Wales. By 2026, 10,000 miles of undiscovered footpaths around Britain stand to be lost. Jack Cornish has dedicated the last five years of his life to walking these forgotten routes, and this book, The Lost Paths, is the result. It is Jack Cornish's hope that The Lost Paths will show just how special these forgotten rights of way are, and how embedded each path is in the history of Britain.
Footpaths, tracks, country lanes and urban streets illuminate how our ancestors interacted with and shaped their landscapes in the pursuit of commerce, salvation, escape, war, and leisure. Paths are an often-overlooked part of our everyday life and our country's history, crucial to understanding the cultural and environmental history of us in the landscape.
After dedicating his time and energy to fighting for their survival, The Lost Paths is Jack's personal journey and exploration of the deep history of English and Welsh footways. This narrative history takes us through ancient forests, exposed mountainsides, urban back streets and coastal vistas to reveal how this millennia-old network was created and has been transformed.
This is a celebration of an ancient network and a rallying cry to reclaim what has been lost and preserve it for future generations. ________
A remarkably interesting book about an apparently prosaic subject, ‘a history of how we walk from here to there’, as the book’s subtitle puts it. Jack Cornish, Head of Paths (what a wonderful job title!) at the Ramblers Association traces the history of the intricate network of footpaths, bridle ways and other public rights of way in England and Wales, from ancient times to the present day. Along the way he encounters pilgrims, drovers, tramps, armies, merchants, sportsmen, children, workers and leisure walkers and traces the story of how the routes they created, mainly hyper-local but sometimes covering tens or hundreds of miles, developed into a complex pattern of legally protected rights of way. The story he has to tell is equally fascinating whether he’s looking at some of the great characters that once trod our paths or recounting the evolution of how the routes came to be protected by law (and how some of them fell through the legal net). In our age of easy, fast transport, it’s easy to forget how many miles people walked in previous centuries, just to work or get to school or to visit relatives and friends. William and Dorothy Wordsworth were famous trampers across the Cumbrian fells, but for every ‘celebrity’ walker, there were countless numbers of people who covered unimaginable distances on foot just to do a day’s work. Cornish quotes a government report from 1867 that found that many children and women farm workers were walking between four and ten miles a day to and from work. In the 1880s a Gloucestershire carpenter was recorded as walking fourteen miles each way for work, six days a week - that’s at least forty hours a week just walking to and from his job. The Lost Paths is the best sort of popular history book: full of interest, engagingly written, strangely moving and, although obviously the product of much research and learning, never laden down by dull facts, but lively and accessible.
This just didn't work for me. I started reading and felt as though as I'd read this kind of book before.
Skimming through there was all the same footpath and byways discussions as I've read in other books of the same ilk. There didn't feel like anything genuine, new or fresh.
I gave up altogether when Cornish started mocking someone who had written in a visitor's book about their fear of the Covid vaccine. He takes a sneering tone and gleefully says he agrees with someone's comment about needing more tinfoil, then brags about getting his "wonderful blast of Pfizer"!! Really Cornish?? Hmm. Just gonna leave the below link there then yeah.
‘Paths are not simply utilitarian but infinitely more than that. They are connections not just from one place to another but from the present to the past - connections that deserve to endure long into the future.’
Landscape is palimpsest. As much as we are shaped by geography, the places of our births and deaths, so our lives and our history are etched onto our landscape. Place is open to reading and consequently Jack Cornish’s wonderful book uses the lost (and indeed sustained) paths of England and Wales to reflect on our nation’s story.
Rich in research and detail, ‘The Lost Paths’ guides us along paths associated with agriculture, commerce, war and the changing face of leisure. The geographical range is impressive, as Cornish takes us from the Somerset Levels to the Lincolnshire Fens, from the Welsh coastal path to urban paths of the newtowns of the twentieth century and London’s unique labyrinth of roads, pathways and alleys. This is an intelligent and literary work, linking landscape to authors and their works, conveying the passion with which poets and novelists have responded to their own journeys across our land.
This is not a passive, nostalgic work. It recognises the need for constant vigilance, celebrating the work done (in the past and now) to preserve our paths, and the working-class activism that has underpinned much of that preservation. As such it is a necessary call to arms.
A personal note. I read much of ‘The Lost Paths’ sitting in my garden in Glastonbury, overlooking the Mendip Hills. Cornish’s celebration of Somerset’s hills (the Mendip, Quantock and Polden Hills), the County’s watery levels and their ancient history, and those features, like Glastonbury Tor, that define my home county’s landscape, moved me profoundly. I felt we were seen and understood. I suspect this will be true for every reader, that Cornish sees their respective place with a keen and empathetic eye. There is a grounded lyricism evident throughout Cornish’s prose.
Jack Cornish describes writing this book as a joy and a privilege. It is certainly a joy and privilege to read.
I’ve read a lot of books on walking and a lot of books on British countryside, and this was my favourite by far. I felt so drawn in to these lost paths and the author’s exploration of the little details. I don’t really have a brain for history in general, but having historical stories told in relation to walking, landscapes, nature and landmarks along with his observation was stunning for me. Also I listened on audiobook and LOVED his voice reading it.
One or two interesting chapters (drove roads especially) but generally a bit of a slog.for example, the chapter on pilgrimages felt entirely perfunctory - my impression was that the author knew it needed to be included but either did no research or had nothing insightful to say.
This book is amazing! I learned so much reading it and had fun doing it. Every chapter is a meticulously crafted vignette that is somehow both informative and beautiful. Jack is great at transporting you onto the trail with him and demonstrating just why public rights of way are so important to fight for. I highly recommend this book!
'The unfurling of life that can be found not in places, but along paths'
In The Lost Paths, Cornish guides us through cases of ecological preservation, historical immersion, and industrial blight turned ambler's paradise. Paths as historic preservation, unearthed as stone, iron, and bronze age highways, offer the romantic and wistful view of Britain's ancient history. Corpse roads, routes of religious pilgrimage, and sections of the tramp circuit (in my native Northamptonshire nonetheless) are also traversed, revealing social histories at risk of being forgotten.
These chapters stand in contrast to those concerning the scars from our industrial modernity - the straight jutting pathways marking railways lost to Beeching or the former miners' pathways in Wales, now part of 'a country park formed from the hulking mass of a former coal tip' - that showcase a revived and repurposed landscape.
It's as much a book on protest as it is pastime. Cornish joins the chorus against enclosure, detailing centuries of a plight against grubby landowners and crowning the achievements of those who have fought for the rights of public access to these beautiful Isles. One in particular that brought a smile was the push back against railway level crossing reductions in East Anglia, which resulted in the saving of a path, the diversion of which would have deprived the public of a partiuclarly nice view of Ely Cathedral. A worthy cause indeed!
Paths suffers however from its encyclopedic approach, flitting from one thing to the next, with too many chapters (new towns, London pedways, tramp circuit etc) not getting the attention they deserve as Cornish attempts to say at least something about everything. In a book that promotes taking one's time and ambling through interesting landscapes, this approach feels almost incongruous to its own subject. I guess the nicer way of putting this is that it's a book to dip into, based on one's interests.
A fascinating book which has made me think about paths in new ways. In explaining what has happened to our paths, Cornish explores the social history of England, looking at the impact of animal movement, war, class, climate, protest, social change and lots more. This book is full of quirky anecdotes and insights which will stay with me.
Some absolutely fascinating details regarding the history of rights of way in England and Wales. Despite having been a keen (shortish distance) walker for almost as long as I can remember I was almost totally unaware of just how hard people have had to fight through the centuries, and continue to do so, to try to retain access to traditional routes, whilst the rich and powerful have frequently succeeded in taking over common lands and restricting access to the rest of us.
Whilst the mass trespass of Kinder Scout in 1932 and the reason behind it was already well known to me, the fact that the Acts of Enclosure from the 18th and 19th century had not only displaced many ordinary people but had also removed many traditional paths forever was news to me (admittedly it’s at least 45 years since my schoolboy history lessons on the subject). The origins of tramps and the ‘tramping circuit” from “spike” to “spike” was a similar eye opener.
Also news to me is the fact that “time immemorial” has an actual end date in English law - specifically the date of Richard I’s accession to the throne on 6th July 1189. Evidence of path usage before that date has no legal standing.
Inevitably in a non-fiction book such as this there are some pages that drag a little, but these are more than made up for by the wealth of detail and level of research that has clearly gone into it.
My only tiny quibble is with one small part of the discussion about access to the paths by different communities and socioeconomic groups. Obviously one doesn’t always need “proper” walking gear to enjoy them, but in poor and potentially changeable weather it is an absolute boon, and there really aren’t many rural paths that I’d want to do in trainers, or even walking shoes, instead of proper walking boots - I value my aging ankles far too much. (Only recently I saw the effects of less than supportive footwear in the agonised and tear stained face of a teenage Duke of Edinburgh award participant with a very badly twisted ankle whilst walking near Lud’s Church in the Peak District. Fortunately we were able to tell the group exactly where they were and could also let their support team know what had happened once we got back to a location with mobile phone signal.)
I’d thoroughly recommend this book to anyone who has enjoyed walking the rights of way through our frequently beautiful countryside and is not yet properly acquainted with the 1949 National Parks and Access to the Countryside Act. We all owe it a colossal and unpayable debt.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
In 1970, a peat cutter called Ray Sweet accidentally dug up a preserved footpath from Neolithic times, just one example of a "lost path" that seems to be quite common across the UK.
Many paths in the UK were created by tradespeople and workers, including "drovers" who herded animals across the countryside. They were also used by pilgrims, mostly making their way to Canterbury, and even people transporting corpses (along the "corpse roads").
In modern times, the country paths are often used by the ramblers, and even people who wish to do extreme walking challenges, but there has been a constant threat of enclosure, whereby public rights of way are lost, often illegally, by being fenced off by landowners. During wartime, much public land was lost to military operations.
William Wordsworth, the poet was very much in favour of the right to roam, once tearing down a wall that had been erected on a public route, and later told the landowner: "I broke down your wall, Sir John. It was obstructing an ancient right of way, and I will do it again". More recently, initiatives like the "Slow Ways" project have helped to ensure that walking routes are maintained between British towns, cities and villages.
Walking around modern cities can also be fascinating, particularly where they have built roads where they follow ancient routes. The City of London once had a network of elevated "pedways" constructed, and while many have been lost, others survive, most notably in the brutalist Barbican Estate.
All of this, and much more, is recounted in this comprehensive book, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I could see reading this just how passionate author Jack Cornish is about the right to roam himself, and how much he enjoys walking, and exploring new places (at the end, he talks about the joy of getting lost as he finds new paths he hasn't discovered yet). It felt like it was researched well, and it is the sort of book that I could come back to years later and read again.
Appropriately for a book about the outdoors I finished it on the first day of Spring. I read a review here that called it a “walking book”. I don’t think that is an accurate description of what is a book about the history of our paths and rights of way, and the battle to safeguard them for the future.
I was unsure about the structure of this book. Ironically for a book about paths it was at times difficult to follow as it jumped from one subject to another. I understand why it’s structured the way it is but I can’t help thinking a more chronological flow might have worked better. To that extent I found that it lacked direction.
But for all that this is a valuable record and useful reference book. I marked a lot of pages so that I can one day visit some of the places that Jack mentions.
Cornish works for the Ramblers' Association and his passion for mapping, walking and writing about the historical paths of Britain is infectious. There were a few things I found super interesting about this book. The first is that it forced me to reckon with my idea of what the landscape looked like in the past. It reminded me of how much human beings shape the land and how it has been politicised and controlled for centuries. The second was all the laws that govern how we use and keep our paths and how much work bodies like the Ramblers' Association and other voluntary groups are doing to make sure we have access to as much of the land as possible. Each chapter takes a different part of the country and a different type of path and explores what was lost, what remains and what we can save for the future.
This book started off promisingly: immersing the reader in the green lanes, byways and paths of the various walks. Sadly, before too long, a bitter taste appeared as Mr Cornish began to take opportunities to flex his political opinions and tar landowners as some vipers nest of aristocratic egomaniacs, eager to drive every walker from the countryside. Valid points are made about the right to roam and the good work done by the Ramblers Association and others, but the petty and bitter grumbling about stiles, gates, private property and the Enclosures Act ruined what could have been a balanced and enjoyable account of our wonderful footpath/bridleway network. An opportunity missed as the topic deserves a more thorough exploration which embraces more counties / regions and thus lives up to the title. The paths here were lost amongst the politicising.
This book is a history of the people who have used, and in some cases, created these walkways - such as the drovers who herded their sheep and cattle to market; the wanderers who travelled between workhouses, seeking shelter and subsistence; the quarrymen who carved away Welsh mountains; the wartime heroes who built up Britain's defensive infrastructure.
This incredible ordinary history of the land beneath our feet reminds us just how precious these paths are and have been to the human history of this island.
Eine liebevoll ausgearbeitete Horizonterweiterung zum Thema Bewegungsfreiheiten auf und zwischen Straßen, die man zuvor im Alltag nicht hinterfragt hat. Mit Kommentaren eines vernünftigen Autoren zu aktuellen Lebenswahrheiten und externen Faktoren, die unsere Umwelt und Gesellschaft prägen und formen wird eine Brücke in die Vergangenheit geschlagen und aufgegriffen wie die Bedürfnisse der Menschen sich über Zeit vielleicht oberflächlich geändert haben, die Grundessenz jedoch erhalten geblieben ist - das Bedürfnis sich uneingeschränkt von A nach B bewegen zu können.
I really enjoyed this history of the paths we walk,the battles that people had to fight to retain their passage, and the ways that the drovers shaped the landscape around us. The chapters on urban walking were very interesting, and I particularly enjoyed his description of Shooters Hill and the surrounding woods, as I know this area. If you are keen on the outdoors and enjoy a ramble in nature, this book would make a good companion
There are almost 50,000 miles of paths in England and Wales, and there were once many more, now lost, obscured. Many were 'lost' before WW2 when signposts were removed for fear of invasion. These public highways have not been recorded.
The book tells about the turnpike trusts imposing tolls, the Enclosure Acts restricting access, and Railway Lines taking presidency amongst many other factors. A very interesting read (in my case, listen).
A beautifully researched call to arms to preserve our precious paths through walking them, respecting them and learning from them - ultimately campaigning for our right to use them and record them for future generations. I also learnt some brilliant facts about the history of this green and pleasant land. Do read it.
Written by a Ramblers member, the book takes a look at paths through history, how they were formed and how they may sometimes not have survived political and social change. Each chapter takes a different part of the country and a different type of path and explores what was lost, what remains and what we can save for the future.
A wonderful account of the uk's walking paths, the people who used them and fought for them through history, and the meaning of those paths and the various struggles to maintain and access them today. well-researched and smart, it's full of great references and fascinating sides. and brimming with the enthusiasm of a lifelong walker. I'd say it's essential reading for anyone who walks
What a lovely tradition the UK has, that the public has the right of way across vast swathes of private land. What a pity my colonial forbears didn't think of this when they carved New Zealand up into farming units, and restricted the common folk to roads and beaches.
Took a while to get into this book but with a bit of perseverance it got better. In fact it's full of fascinating info about footpaths & their origins, & Cornish's own experiences. It dragged a bit in places but a good, solid, interesting read.