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The Wood That Built London
Standing in the busy streets of South London today, it is hard to imagine that much of this suburban townscape was once a vast wood, stretching unbroken for almost seven miles from Croydon to the Thames at Deptford. This compelling narrative history charts the fortunes of the North Wood from the earliest its ecology, ownership, management, and its gradual encroachment by the expanding metropolis
- GenresNonfictionHistory
368 pages, Kindle Edition
Published October 7, 2021
14 people are currently reading
116 people want to read
About the author
C.J. Schüler
8 books8 followersC.J. Schüler's latest book, The Wood That Built London, a history of the woodland that once covered much of South London, is published by Sandstone Press on 7 October 2021. His travelogue Along the Amber Route (also from Sandstone), hailed as ‘timely and powerful’ by the Financial Times on its publication in February 2020, was shortlisted for Stanford Dolman Award and longlisted for the Jewish Quarterly-Wingate Prize.. He is the author of three illustrated histories of cartography: Mapping the World, Mapping the City, and Mapping the Sea and Stars, (Éditions Place des Victoires/Frechmann) and co-author of the best-selling Traveller’s Atlas, (Barron, 1999). His history of the Authors’ Club of London, Writers, Lovers, Soldiers, Spies, was published in 2016 to critical acclaim. He has also written on literature, travel and the arts for The Independent, The Tablet, the Financial Times, and Slightly Foxed magazine.
Since graduating from Oxford University with a degree in English Language and Literature, he has worked in publishing and journalism, serving on the staff of The Independent, and the Rough Guides, and is now a freelance editor and copywriter. He was elected a Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society in 2011, and was chairman of the Authors’ Club from 2008 to 2015. He lives in South London with his wife, and is a conservation volunteer at his local nature reserve.
Since graduating from Oxford University with a degree in English Language and Literature, he has worked in publishing and journalism, serving on the staff of The Independent, and the Rough Guides, and is now a freelance editor and copywriter. He was elected a Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society in 2011, and was chairman of the Authors’ Club from 2008 to 2015. He lives in South London with his wife, and is a conservation volunteer at his local nature reserve.
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September 7, 2021Well, that's good timing; there hasn't been a full history of the Great North Wood in 120 years, but I've only been here five and along one comes. Turns out that, like so much in British life which seems immemorial, the name is not as old as all that; it's not found before 1863, and then with a lower case 'g' - that's in the proceedings of the Surrey Archaeological Society, and it's clear throughout that Schüler has done an impressive job of digging through all manner of journals, surveys (once charmingly called 'terriers'), court records &c going right back to the Middle Ages. But whereas some historians who have the research down can end up producing dry works, better referenced than read, Schüler has also managed to build his findings into something a general reader can enjoy – albeit, it must be admitted, perhaps more readily if they regularly spend time within the Wood's old precincts. Which are wider than you might think; I'm lucky enough to live between some of the more impressive surviving stands (it was an almost numinous joy to learn from this book that one of the weeds in my back garden is considered an ancient woodland indicator), but until the 18th century the trees ran from Croydon to the Thames. Not that they were still truly wild then; they haven't been for at least a thousand years, and probably more. There's an undercurrent running through the book in which Schüler picks up, gently, the recent findings about symbiosis in woodlands, and sets that against the human relationship with woodlands as it used to be, where we were also part of a grand system. I don't mean that in some dippy hippy sense, but as a simple matter of husbandry: as Schüler quotes Oliver Rackham saying, "a wood need no more be destroyed by felling than a meadow is destroyed by cutting a crop of hay". A long-standing process of rotation and replenishment which fell apart as capitalism started getting its claws in, culminating in the 19th century with a tension between clear-felling for short term gain on one side, and new appreciation of woods as imagined idyll on the other. Although of course there were further wrinkles within that; the survival of one hefty chunk, now Grangewood Park, is down to its time as the private estate of industrialist Charles Hood.
Given the scale of the wood that was, as against the fragmentary survivals, there are inevitably times when the book makes for a painful read. I was particularly appalled by the Tudor Vermin Acts, offering tuppence per otter or hedgehog killed, and a penny per wildcat – even for something as beautiful as the kingfisher, their extirpation was incentivised. The problem with hedgehogs, incidentally, was that they were believed to suck the milk from sleeping cows – thank goodness we no longer destroy blameless animals because of a debatable impact on bovine health, eh, readers? And as Schüler notes, modern agriculture and habitat loss has done far more damage than these laws ever could, not least because inflation meant the rewards didn't long justify determined anti-otter warfare. But that habitat loss still feels a lot like the Biblically mandated clearing of 'wastes' which segued so smoothly into capitalism's inability to value anything without a financial benefit evident in the most reductive terms. "When human society was made up of small communities separated by wide expanses of untamed land, our settlements mere pinpricks of light in the vast darkness of the pre-industrial night, the biblical injunction made sense; since then, however, we have gone on multiplying and subduing and exercising dominion to the point where the Earth may never recover." And even now, when we're supposed to know a little better, the green rhetoric often falls apart as soon as a council sees an opportunity to make a few quid, or one local Hyacinth Bucket complains that a freshly laid hedge is 'untidy'. The destruction may sometimes be greenwashed with talk of offset or mitigation but, as Schüler points out, when it comes to ancient woodland this can only ever be a sham and a sop. Just when my ire at the destructive nonsense of HS2 had been dying down, an' all.
Still, if the story is in many respects a tragic one, it does have a fine cast. Schüler is particularly keen to note people who, inspired by the Great North Wood, have gone on to have a wider impact on life sciences or the preservation of nature, such as John Ray (1628-1705), first to formulate the concept of species, or the Norwood vicar who sent an 1885 letter requesting preservation of the woods to Reginald Brabazon – who four years later would make the first proposal for a London green belt. Elsewhere, it's just fun to see celebrity connections; I hadn't realised that Sir Thomas Wyatt had estates where now sits Loughborough Junction, or that Byron visited the wood's Gypsies – who, like its sometime reputation for lawlessness, get less space here than I expected. Although I was amused to learn that the stretch of road where I catch the bus was once known as Leather Bottle Lane, presumably for an association with bootlegging. Similarly, it was good to learn that the road where my usual supermarket sits, and the meadow nearby, are named for Walter Whitehorse, shieldbearer to Edward III and the first known Black Rod. Doesn't Whitehorse, Black Rod sound like an obscene* riff on Short Skirt, Long Jacket? Surely the most exciting cameo, though, at least if you watch Upstart Crow, is Robert Greene, whose Quip For An Upstart Courtier had a local reference: "Marry, quoth her that lookt like Lucifer, though I am black, I am not the Divell, but indeed a collyer of Croydon". Obviously I can only hear this delivered in Mark Heap's voice, to pained silence.
As we approach the present, some of the later chapters can get a little bogged down. The same punctilious digging in the records which earlier impressed becomes more tiring when you're dealing with recent council meetings and their more complete records, though heavens know if someone could have done the same centuries ago then it would have been enormously useful now, so it can hardly be denied that this too is in the historian's remit. The penultimate chapter is more a guide to the wood as it currently stands, right down to recommended bus routes; certainly a useful thing to have, but perhaps one which might have made more sense as an appendix, particularly given the vertigo occasioned when the final chapter flips back from visitor recommendations to the grim prospects for nature generally, and thus humanity also, in the coming years. Though after that there is a glossary too, including one lovely term I didn't know, marcescence - "the retention of dead, dry leaves by a tree during winter". Feels uncomfortably reminiscent of the remaining traces of life in 21st century Britain, doesn't it?
*Conversely, the true meaning of Penge is here, and turns out only to be rude if you squint, which is a bit of a shame.
(Netgalley ARC, lacking the plates – and I imagine they'll make for an even better reading experience)
Given the scale of the wood that was, as against the fragmentary survivals, there are inevitably times when the book makes for a painful read. I was particularly appalled by the Tudor Vermin Acts, offering tuppence per otter or hedgehog killed, and a penny per wildcat – even for something as beautiful as the kingfisher, their extirpation was incentivised. The problem with hedgehogs, incidentally, was that they were believed to suck the milk from sleeping cows – thank goodness we no longer destroy blameless animals because of a debatable impact on bovine health, eh, readers? And as Schüler notes, modern agriculture and habitat loss has done far more damage than these laws ever could, not least because inflation meant the rewards didn't long justify determined anti-otter warfare. But that habitat loss still feels a lot like the Biblically mandated clearing of 'wastes' which segued so smoothly into capitalism's inability to value anything without a financial benefit evident in the most reductive terms. "When human society was made up of small communities separated by wide expanses of untamed land, our settlements mere pinpricks of light in the vast darkness of the pre-industrial night, the biblical injunction made sense; since then, however, we have gone on multiplying and subduing and exercising dominion to the point where the Earth may never recover." And even now, when we're supposed to know a little better, the green rhetoric often falls apart as soon as a council sees an opportunity to make a few quid, or one local Hyacinth Bucket complains that a freshly laid hedge is 'untidy'. The destruction may sometimes be greenwashed with talk of offset or mitigation but, as Schüler points out, when it comes to ancient woodland this can only ever be a sham and a sop. Just when my ire at the destructive nonsense of HS2 had been dying down, an' all.
Still, if the story is in many respects a tragic one, it does have a fine cast. Schüler is particularly keen to note people who, inspired by the Great North Wood, have gone on to have a wider impact on life sciences or the preservation of nature, such as John Ray (1628-1705), first to formulate the concept of species, or the Norwood vicar who sent an 1885 letter requesting preservation of the woods to Reginald Brabazon – who four years later would make the first proposal for a London green belt. Elsewhere, it's just fun to see celebrity connections; I hadn't realised that Sir Thomas Wyatt had estates where now sits Loughborough Junction, or that Byron visited the wood's Gypsies – who, like its sometime reputation for lawlessness, get less space here than I expected. Although I was amused to learn that the stretch of road where I catch the bus was once known as Leather Bottle Lane, presumably for an association with bootlegging. Similarly, it was good to learn that the road where my usual supermarket sits, and the meadow nearby, are named for Walter Whitehorse, shieldbearer to Edward III and the first known Black Rod. Doesn't Whitehorse, Black Rod sound like an obscene* riff on Short Skirt, Long Jacket? Surely the most exciting cameo, though, at least if you watch Upstart Crow, is Robert Greene, whose Quip For An Upstart Courtier had a local reference: "Marry, quoth her that lookt like Lucifer, though I am black, I am not the Divell, but indeed a collyer of Croydon". Obviously I can only hear this delivered in Mark Heap's voice, to pained silence.
As we approach the present, some of the later chapters can get a little bogged down. The same punctilious digging in the records which earlier impressed becomes more tiring when you're dealing with recent council meetings and their more complete records, though heavens know if someone could have done the same centuries ago then it would have been enormously useful now, so it can hardly be denied that this too is in the historian's remit. The penultimate chapter is more a guide to the wood as it currently stands, right down to recommended bus routes; certainly a useful thing to have, but perhaps one which might have made more sense as an appendix, particularly given the vertigo occasioned when the final chapter flips back from visitor recommendations to the grim prospects for nature generally, and thus humanity also, in the coming years. Though after that there is a glossary too, including one lovely term I didn't know, marcescence - "the retention of dead, dry leaves by a tree during winter". Feels uncomfortably reminiscent of the remaining traces of life in 21st century Britain, doesn't it?
*Conversely, the true meaning of Penge is here, and turns out only to be rude if you squint, which is a bit of a shame.
(Netgalley ARC, lacking the plates – and I imagine they'll make for an even better reading experience)
April 13, 2023
Isn't it fascinating that in South London we have Great North Wood? If you live nearby, it's amazing to read the history and learn more about your local area.
However, the book is quite specific, quite detailed and I found some bits extremely boring, which I had to skip. It starts from prehistoric times and goes to the present day. You might enjoy it more if you are very local and know every single street, every single corner - there are a lot of roads and places mentioned. There is also a lot of nature vocabulary - and quite specific vocabulary about plants, trees, flowers, birds. Personally for me, it lacked a human and emotional touch - I would have preferred some people's stories too. Unfortunately, 3.5 for me.
However, the book is quite specific, quite detailed and I found some bits extremely boring, which I had to skip. It starts from prehistoric times and goes to the present day. You might enjoy it more if you are very local and know every single street, every single corner - there are a lot of roads and places mentioned. There is also a lot of nature vocabulary - and quite specific vocabulary about plants, trees, flowers, birds. Personally for me, it lacked a human and emotional touch - I would have preferred some people's stories too. Unfortunately, 3.5 for me.
December 26, 2025
In the final chapter of his book, Schüler describes how during COVID the number of visitors to Sydenham Hill Woods effectively doubled, as hundreds of thousands more people, starved of their usual forms of recreation, looked outward to nature to fulfil their needs. One of those visitors was myself, walking various elements of a Green Chain as a reason to leave the house, and the only way to meet up with friends. This period of my life, despite the disarray and hurt being reaped by COVID, from extremely happy memories, that I assign to reconnecting with wildlife in a city where I had previously felt starved of that connection. However, whilst affirming these positive aspects, Schüler points out another side of this story: COVID meant limited work days and maintenance could be done, which paired with massively expanded usage, put extreme stress on these ancient woodlands.
Schüler’s history of the North Wood is obviously a labour of love from someone who deeply cares about this area and its woodlands - not just in themselves, but also for the human life and pleasure reliant upon them. It’s authoritative and by no means pop history. The array of sources scoured over and depth of understanding presented show that this is a serious piece of work. Of particular enjoyment is Chapter 6 on Crystal Palace and the railway, which reaffirms my theory that the relocation of the Palace to Sydenham is one of the most important acts shaping not only the human, but also natural, history of South London over the last two hundred years.
However, the book doesn’t ever feel like it gets into its flow. Presented before you are a never ending list of people, dates, statistics, extended quotes and long organisational names. Whilst as someone who researches into the history of this area I appreciate the desire and tendency to do this when writing, it became easy to get lost and feel somewhat alienated from the information being relayed. Running through the paragraphs, one could often feel themselves echoing David Byrne’s immortal lyrics: “How did I get here”. Whilst the history is extensive, there are points where I wish he would expand (the importance of anti-enclosure struggles, whilst included, felt like they deserved greater emphasis). The failure to discuss the Big Willow Eco Camp at Crystal Palace also felt a missed opportunity, although perhaps that didn’t strictly meet the topic of the book.
Redeeming this is perhaps the final chapter, where Schüler really comes into his own. The arguments he makes - such as the alienation of racialised communities from wild spaces; challenging our perception of “invasive species”; and the importance of a symbiotic relationship between wildlife and humans for both our sakes - all seem obvious, but also at the same time have never seriously crossed my mind. He explains which lyrical depth why a human history of this wood is so necessary, and the questions that surround it more pressing than ever.
Who knows, maybe I’ll join my local wildlife trust volunteer group.
Schüler’s history of the North Wood is obviously a labour of love from someone who deeply cares about this area and its woodlands - not just in themselves, but also for the human life and pleasure reliant upon them. It’s authoritative and by no means pop history. The array of sources scoured over and depth of understanding presented show that this is a serious piece of work. Of particular enjoyment is Chapter 6 on Crystal Palace and the railway, which reaffirms my theory that the relocation of the Palace to Sydenham is one of the most important acts shaping not only the human, but also natural, history of South London over the last two hundred years.
However, the book doesn’t ever feel like it gets into its flow. Presented before you are a never ending list of people, dates, statistics, extended quotes and long organisational names. Whilst as someone who researches into the history of this area I appreciate the desire and tendency to do this when writing, it became easy to get lost and feel somewhat alienated from the information being relayed. Running through the paragraphs, one could often feel themselves echoing David Byrne’s immortal lyrics: “How did I get here”. Whilst the history is extensive, there are points where I wish he would expand (the importance of anti-enclosure struggles, whilst included, felt like they deserved greater emphasis). The failure to discuss the Big Willow Eco Camp at Crystal Palace also felt a missed opportunity, although perhaps that didn’t strictly meet the topic of the book.
Redeeming this is perhaps the final chapter, where Schüler really comes into his own. The arguments he makes - such as the alienation of racialised communities from wild spaces; challenging our perception of “invasive species”; and the importance of a symbiotic relationship between wildlife and humans for both our sakes - all seem obvious, but also at the same time have never seriously crossed my mind. He explains which lyrical depth why a human history of this wood is so necessary, and the questions that surround it more pressing than ever.
Who knows, maybe I’ll join my local wildlife trust volunteer group.
October 18, 2021
3.5 stars, rounded up
Nature-writing? Yes! History? Yes! A History of Nature? Where do I start reading? That’s basically my thought process when I saw The Wood That Built London on Netgalley.
The Wood That Built London is a history of the North Wood, starting from prehistoric times all the way to the present day. As you can imagine, that’s a huge undertaking and the book delves into many fascinating details about the woods, including charters regarding the woods, the Forest law (which was hated so much that it was repealed when the Magna Carta was signed), the oak change (a mysterious phenomenon that might be due to the introduction of oak mildew), and many other facts. I never knew that trees could have such a rich and deep history, nor did I realise how deeply the British depended on these woods.
Despite all these fascinating stories, The Wood The Built London can be a bit difficult to read because it’s very hard to make an emotional connection, or sustain interest in a book about trees (since I’m not the Lorax). I think I half expected this to be something along the lines of Field Notes from the Edge, which did not have an overarching storyline to the book but still held my interest. The Wood That Built London was very information-dense and sadly, it was far too easy to just read a little and put the book down. It didn’t help that I’m not super familiar with London, so a lot of the time the names and places just flew over my head; I think a connection to modern-day areas would have helped anchor the place better for me.
Overall, this was an interesting book, but one that I would recommend only for a very specific group of people. If you’re extremely interested in history, especially the history of London and if you’re keen to read something that’s full of information but may not have that much of a personal touch, then this may be the book for you. Or, if you’re not like me, maybe you could just dip in and out of the book, because there really are quite a few interesting stories in here.
Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.
This review was first posted at Eustea Reads
Nature-writing? Yes! History? Yes! A History of Nature? Where do I start reading? That’s basically my thought process when I saw The Wood That Built London on Netgalley.
The Wood That Built London is a history of the North Wood, starting from prehistoric times all the way to the present day. As you can imagine, that’s a huge undertaking and the book delves into many fascinating details about the woods, including charters regarding the woods, the Forest law (which was hated so much that it was repealed when the Magna Carta was signed), the oak change (a mysterious phenomenon that might be due to the introduction of oak mildew), and many other facts. I never knew that trees could have such a rich and deep history, nor did I realise how deeply the British depended on these woods.
Despite all these fascinating stories, The Wood The Built London can be a bit difficult to read because it’s very hard to make an emotional connection, or sustain interest in a book about trees (since I’m not the Lorax). I think I half expected this to be something along the lines of Field Notes from the Edge, which did not have an overarching storyline to the book but still held my interest. The Wood That Built London was very information-dense and sadly, it was far too easy to just read a little and put the book down. It didn’t help that I’m not super familiar with London, so a lot of the time the names and places just flew over my head; I think a connection to modern-day areas would have helped anchor the place better for me.
Overall, this was an interesting book, but one that I would recommend only for a very specific group of people. If you’re extremely interested in history, especially the history of London and if you’re keen to read something that’s full of information but may not have that much of a personal touch, then this may be the book for you. Or, if you’re not like me, maybe you could just dip in and out of the book, because there really are quite a few interesting stories in here.
Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.
This review was first posted at Eustea Reads
January 28, 2022
I walk my dog everyday through the largest remaining part of the Great North Wood (Dulwich woods), so I figured I should really learn some more about it. I quickly realised that this book offers so much more than just an ecological account though. It weaves a fascinating tale of English history through the lens of my local neighbourhood, spanning from the Dark Ages through to the present day. Throughout that time, the ecology of the Great North Wood has always been intricately bound up with the humans who lived in and around it. I learnt some interesting things about traditional woodland management (like coppicing - from where we get the term copse) and old cultural practices that continued for centuries and only very recently falling out of usage. For example, from Anglo-Saxon times until around 100 years ago, parishes had an annual custom of walking the boundaries of their local jurisdictions ('beating the bounds') on Ascension Day, in order to maintain a shared map of these boundaries in the community's shared memory. In an age before modern surveying techniques, the woods, streams, and prominent 'boundary trees' served as markers for these perambulations - in which the parishioners got roaring drunk as part of the celebration (hardly surprising that boundary disputes consequently ensued!). These sorts of gems crop up throughout this book - which moves quite quickly through all of the ages to make a highly readable history book. In places, there are some very lengthy and precise descriptions of local places, their landowners, their boundaries, their various disputes, etc. - which may be slightly laborious to read for those who are not intimately familiar with the local area. However, I found myself it surprisingly fascinating to trace the evolution of English history through my local places and landmarks.
The concluding chapters focus more on the woods today and their increasingly important role as a haven for wildlife pushed out of the countryside by intensive agricultural practices and development. Sydenham Hill Woods, for example, harbours numerous Ancient Woodland Indicators (e.g., woodland anemone and English Bluebell) as well as many rare insect, bird, and bat species. Above all, this part of the book gave me an appreciation for the fact that true nature is not only to be found in vast swathes of wilderness in far flung lands; but that a rich and diverse ecology still exists in the places we inhabit on a daily basis - places that are overlooked as areas needing protection. In an age where it is increasingly difficult to make a case for natural spaces given the extortionate value of land in London, this book lays out a compelling case for recognising the huge historical and cultural legacy of the Great North Wood, and for protecting its remaining ecologically-rich parcels for generations to come.
The concluding chapters focus more on the woods today and their increasingly important role as a haven for wildlife pushed out of the countryside by intensive agricultural practices and development. Sydenham Hill Woods, for example, harbours numerous Ancient Woodland Indicators (e.g., woodland anemone and English Bluebell) as well as many rare insect, bird, and bat species. Above all, this part of the book gave me an appreciation for the fact that true nature is not only to be found in vast swathes of wilderness in far flung lands; but that a rich and diverse ecology still exists in the places we inhabit on a daily basis - places that are overlooked as areas needing protection. In an age where it is increasingly difficult to make a case for natural spaces given the extortionate value of land in London, this book lays out a compelling case for recognising the huge historical and cultural legacy of the Great North Wood, and for protecting its remaining ecologically-rich parcels for generations to come.
December 10, 2022
You will enjoy this a lot more if you *don't* go into it expecting a book about the North Wood. The wood very much fades into the background.
It is an interesting book about land tenure, use of woodlands, and the ideology of land exploitation (Schuler makes the argument that 16th century arguments of privatisation v commons are taken by English colonists to Ireland and North America, and I think he's right, I recently read a book that talked about the destruction of cattle herds in Ireland as a means of subjugation--I think the links between enclosure in England, Irish plantations and the colonisation of north America could use a lot more scrutiny).
I recommend it, but not really if you want to know about woodland as woodland
It is an interesting book about land tenure, use of woodlands, and the ideology of land exploitation (Schuler makes the argument that 16th century arguments of privatisation v commons are taken by English colonists to Ireland and North America, and I think he's right, I recently read a book that talked about the destruction of cattle herds in Ireland as a means of subjugation--I think the links between enclosure in England, Irish plantations and the colonisation of north America could use a lot more scrutiny).
I recommend it, but not really if you want to know about woodland as woodland
October 16, 2022
History of south London's Great North Wood, taking us right up to the present day.
This book made me realise I need a Trigger Warning for any mention of the Enclosures Acts - 400 years later and I'm still furious.
And the present-day history here makes it clear we should be, Local Government is still intent on taking the last few scraps of land available to us and making money out of them by building luxury flats on them.
This book made me realise I need a Trigger Warning for any mention of the Enclosures Acts - 400 years later and I'm still furious.
And the present-day history here makes it clear we should be, Local Government is still intent on taking the last few scraps of land available to us and making money out of them by building luxury flats on them.
October 18, 2024
The title is misleading, a piece of understandable hyperbole, though the Great North Wood did play a role in the building of the capital. Mainly this is a fascinating and varied account of the wood, taking in history, botany, geography and much else, and rich in anecdote and incidental detail.
Highly recommended for anyone with an interest in the string of remnants of primeval woodland that still exists in South London today.
Highly recommended for anyone with an interest in the string of remnants of primeval woodland that still exists in South London today.
July 19, 2023
Extremely well-researched, but unfortunately rather dry in the delivery. I'd say this is an invaluable resource if you are rigorously researching the topic, but as a casual reader, I found the writing too unenjoyable to finish the book.
August 30, 2022
Surprisingly well written history of this wild remnant in the hearty of S London. Added a lot to my understanding of it
October 6, 2022
I really enjoyed this mix of history and ecopolitics!
September 20, 2024
Wonderful. So happy to have come across this history of the Great North Wood and the surviving remnants we have today. Fascinating, enriching and rewarding.
June 14, 2025
a truly beautiful book!
December 27, 2021
This is a fascinating socio-economic, ecological and human history of the Great North Wood that covered much of South East London until the industrial revolution. It is packed with factual information but is written in a warm and entertaining style. The author brings the story right up to the current day, highlighting the importance of green spaces during in the pandemic. An important story and a great read.
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews