Jeremy Purseglove
When organisations get underway, one soon forgets the chancy and haphazard way they got started. Now, four years into the project, this is what I remember.
In 2018 soon after retiring, I moved to Rutland from Cambridge where I had worked for the previous 25 years as a landscape architect and ecologist. In Cambridge I had also been closely involved with Wicken Fen, a National Nature Reserve owned by the National Trust. In 2000 we set up an initiative entitled ‘The Wicken Vision’ to buy adjacent farmland and flood it in order to expand the precious wetland, which like so many British nature reserves, had been isolated in a sea of intensive agri-business. We felt that Wicken, as an outstandingly rich ecosystem, was a perfect place to start since a maximum number of species would then easily migrate into the adjacent habitats that we were creating for them. Now, 25 years later, Wicken has doubled in size with spectacularly increased bird and insect life, while the principle of expanding the best places is a cornerstone of modern nature conservation in the UK.
When I arrived in the East Midlands that summer of 2018, I began to explore the natural wonders of my new home both in Rutland and Northamptonshire. What quickly became clear was that the real jewels of this landscape were not the wetlands I was used to but some of the finest ancient woodlands in the whole country. I quickly found my way to the Bedford Purlieus and the woods around Fineshade.
One look at the OS map revealed that many of these outstanding habitats, though severed from each other in relatively recent times, still remained tantalizingly close together. So, it wouldn’t take much to close some of the gaps.
The idea of relinking these woods is hardly rocket-science. Local conservationists had of course long dreamed of such an enterprise and some early steps had been taken. In 2001 the Wildlife Trust acquired Old Sulehay and created a nature reserve and from before 2020 Natural England had been working closely with the Bulwick and Boughton estates to promote habitat creation. But with so many other demands on their time and resources an all-out conservation assault on the Rockingham Forest had never been attempted.
Meanwhile things were stirring in the wider political world in such a way as to promise major challenges to the old agricultural order and perhaps open the greatest opportunities for the landscape that we had witnessed in a generation. In June 2016 Britain voted to leave the European Union. What this would mean for British farmers was the loss of access to the Common Agricultural Policy (CAP), which had paid them £3billion a year, an additional 55 percent of their income with no strings attached. All farmers had to do for this money was to fill in an annual form giving the area of land that they farmed. Then the more land they had, the more payments came. In such circumstances, the incentives to move from intensive agriculture to habitat creation were minimal.
In 2019 the Tory party won a landslide election to take Britain out of Europe and the Queen’s Speech of that December set out plans to replace the CAP with a system of subsidies rewarding farmers for promoting environmental enhancement and biodiversity rather than yield. Through the subsequent chaotic years, including the brief tenure of Liz Truss, who even vowed to abolish Environmental Impact Assessments, conservationists held their breath. But so far, it seems, the deal has held. The Countryside Stewardship payments for January 2024 were some of the highest we have seen, and Environmental Land Management (ELM) promises to deliver even higher ones.
It was against the background of these events that I ventured ever deeper into my magnificent local woods, investigating their colourful history, discovering their fabulous wildflowers and sharing it all with my friends.
In August 2019 I led my friend Tony Juniper, who had just been made chair of Natural England, into the Bedford Purlieus. He instantly grasped the opportunity of woodland links and as we emerged from the trees, a Purple Emperor butterfly floated out down the glade in front of us. Tony uttered a great cry and leaped after it before it vanished from sight.
What an obliging insect! I have never seen one since.
On 22nd July 2020 I had a picnic in the woods with an old friend, Phil Rothwell, who had a long history of involvement with National Heritage Lottery Fund and with a newly rediscovered friend Adam Cade, who had lived nearby for many years and had a wealth of local contacts. He in turn introduced us to Barrie Galpin, who lives deep in the woods and had successfully campaigned to keep a large recreational chalet development out of Fineshade.
That afternoon by the time the four of us had finished our pork pies and ginger beer, we had resolved to set up a new initiative for the forest. In no time we were talking to Natural England, the Wildlife Trust and North Northants Council. A lottery bid was secured in August 2022 and the Rockingham Forest Vision was born.
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