During a brief stay at The Folly Cottage in Northumberland—a former tenant farm on the Belsay Estate—I stumbled across something fascinating to someone with an interest in veteran and ancient trees.
What looked at first like random lines of trees and scattered stone banks turned out to be the surviving skeleton of a 19th-century estate shelterbelt, still holding the line after more than 150 years.
A Shelterbelt Hidden in Plain Sight
We had the cottage for a few days, up from Sussex for a family gathering near Gallowhill. A nearby bridlepath, I later discovered, nearly reached my sister’s front door. But it wasn’t family that preoccupied me for the first few days. It was the trees (and the inquisitive cattle that followed me about).
I hadn’t come to Northumberland with tree surveying in mind, though I volunteer with the Woodland Trust in Sussex. Still, I’d brought a tape measure, and I rarely travel without my smartphone. Over five days, I recorded and photographed a dozen trees from a larger group of around sixty—most ash, with some sycamore and oak—forming what once had been a carefully laid out shelterbelt north of the cottage. Old maps confirmed it: a planted square enclosure, about 150 yards long and 100 wide, once protecting the northern flank of the farm from the North Sea’s bitter winds.
Historic Ordnance Survey map revealing the square boundary pattern of the shelterbelt.
Stone and Root: Clues Beneath the Canopy
What truly captured my attention wasn’t just the trees. It was what lay at their feet.
At the base of at least twenty trees, I found consistent mounds of fieldstone—deliberately placed, not tumbled. This, I believe, this was estate land management best practice established during the 19th century.
- Fieldstone clearance: Stones ploughed up from nearby fields were placed here, out of the way of tools and hooves. Or was the stone quarried and brought here?
- Livestock defence: The mounds made the base uncomfortable for sheep or cattle to linger or rub.
- Fence anchoring: Old barbed wire still protrudes from some trunks.
- Erosion control: Particularly valuable in Northumberland’s wet, wind-exposed soil.
Over generations, the roots and stones have merged into single, expressive forms—living boundary banks.
I surveyed trees that were thriving, failing, split, hollow, and regenerating. Here are a few that stood out:
Tree #1: Ash with Stone Bank, Northern Perimeter
Girth: 3.53m @ 1.50m
This ash stands in the outer row, hugging a stone bank. Its form is typical of estate trees grown with protection: broad base, hollowing just beginning, lichens clinging to rough bark.
Tree #2: Hollow Ash at Gateway with Stone Base
///signal.growl.fever
Girth: 3.12m @ 1.00m
Situated beside a stone gatepost, this tree is hollow from about 1.2m upwards. Inside, the decayed wood has a peat-like texture nearly 40cm thick. The tree is part of the main shelterbelt and heavily browsed around the base by sheep. In its upper crown: thinning canopy, snapped branches, and signs of regrowth.
Tree #3: Fragmented Phoenix Ash
///indulges.umbrella.swimmer
Girth: 2.31m @ 1.50m
A classic phoenix tree—broken trunk, fallen deadwood nearby, but still alive. This one grows east of the cottage, its hollow base open to the elements. The remaining live section has sprouted new shoots from a low point, a vivid example of recovery through epicormic growth.
Tree #4: Ash Maiden with Heartwood Fungi
///vertical.dugouts.paddle
Girth: 3.36m @ 1.50m
The canopy here shows significant dieback—at least 50% of the crown is bare or dead. High up on the main stem, I spotted what may be Ganoderma applanatum—a heartwood fungus that tells us the decay is deep. Yet the tree still stands, dignified in decline.
Tree #5: Twin-Stemmed Hollow Ash on Boundary Bank
///trophy.proposes.variety
Girth: 3.12m @ 1.50m
Completely hollow at the base, with several entry holes. One stem is healthier than the other, the weaker showing thinning and reduced leaf cover. Around the base, a stone bank wraps the trunk like a collar—a boundary marker, livestock barrier, and dumping site all in one.
Tree #6: A Healthy Outlier
///universes.chops.newest
Girth: 2.59m @ 1.50m
Unlike most, this northeastern ash is intact: no hollow, no visible decay, full canopy. But even here, signs of human use remain. Barbed wire threads through the bark, hinting at a time when this shelterbelt doubled as a corral or field edge.
Reading the Landscape
This belt is a living textbook of historical land use. The trees tell us how they were planted, tended, used, and reused. Roots wrap stone. Hollows hold birds and insects. Fence lines speak of livestock once penned between trees. The stone bases are not just functional—they are archival.
Many of the trees now qualify as “notable” or even “veteran.” Some may be entered into the Woodland Trust Ancient Tree Inventory. But all are worth noticing, not just for their size or shape, but for the role they played in a working landscape.
Satellite view showing the regular spacing and square pattern of the original planting. From What3Words.
Next Steps
This was not a formal survey trip. But like many discoveries, it began with curiosity. In the evenings, I reviewed images and logged tree details. I’ve marked GPS locations using What3Words and intend to submit key trees to the Ancient Tree Inventory. The next visit will include archive work on the Belsay Estate’s planting records.
If you find yourself walking the bridlepath between Belsay and Gallowhill, pause beside one of these ash trees. Look at the base. Feel the stones. They were placed there by hands long gone, and still serve their purpose, if we stop to read the signs.
I surveyed trees along the Bridlepath from Belsay to Gallowhill, several veteran-looking oak trees on the banks of the How Burn, and a couple of distinguished sycamores behind the 11th-century St Andrews Church.
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