The charm of Woodstock is evident to any visitor. This year, however, the town is celebrating its history, a story rich in events and in people, writes John Forster, archivist at Blenheim Palace.

In 1086 the Domesday Book mentions Woodstock only as a royal park with virtually no sign of settlement. This did not begin until a little later when King Henry I (1068-1135) enclosed the park with a seven mile stone wall to provide for his two passions, hunting and his collection of exotic animals.

The wall preserved his deer and provided a location for his menagerie, in which he kept lions, lynxes, leopards and camels. Remarkably, from the menagerie he established, in 1252 the collection was transferred to the Tower of London and from there, in 1835, to Regent’s Park, where it formed the basis of London Zoo.

He was committed to the area and built a house in the park for himself and his followers. To provide for them and to accommodate overspill, a settlement began just outside the wall.

The evidence suggests the date as 1110 and so this year’s celebration is of 900 years of history, Woodstock@900.

Henry II (1133-89) had two passions, hunting — and the ladies. He found the royal park at Woodstock ideal to enjoy both. He steadily and considerably enlarged Henry I’s house and it began to assume royal palace proportions.

To provide lodging for the numbers in his retinue, he granted land on 40 spare acres just outside the park “for the building of hostelries for the use of the men of the king”, and so New Woodstock was born, possibly about 1189.

Parts of the present town reveal its medieval origins with narrow but long sites, the length apparently provided for the privies. Once one was full another could be dug beyond it.

Henry had numerous affairs but a true love seems to have been for one Rosamund Clifford, ‘Rosamund the Fair’. Adjacent to his manor he laid out for her a substantial retreat or “bower” with pleasant pools and a maze as the entrance. One of the pools, ‘Rosamund’s Well’, remains to this day.

The water was believed to have medicinal properties and in the 19th century women from Woodstock were allowed there, not to sell the water but to rent cups to visitors from which to drink it, at a farthing a time.

The 9th Duke (1871-1934) believed it to be very pure and had it piped under the lake to the palace kitchens and to the pools in his new water terraces where he valued the clear, limpid look it gave there.

There is a romantic story that the Queen noticed a thread of silk caught on Henry’s spur, traced it back through the maze and found Rosamund. She offered her a dagger and a cup of poison to choose and bid her decide on the method of her death. Sadly, not true. Rosamund retired to a convent at Godstow, a few miles from Woodstock, where she died a natural death.

For 500 years after Henry II virtually every king and queen stayed at the royal manor. Its repair and development, and thus the well being and prosperity of Woodstock generally, reflected the interest and level of commitment of the individual monarchs.

Even though at Woodstock the main intention was the pursuit of leisure, yet major political issues had had a habit of asserting themselves. Tudor times at Woodstock are especially revealing.

The joys of Henry VII (1457-1509) were falconry and hunting. Woodstock was perfect for him. He did considerable building there and had lavish entertainments at the manor. He made much of it but not just for sport. His motive was political, part of his governing style.

After difficult years on his way to the throne he made use of display in many forms as ‘magnificence’ with which to impress his people and ensure their loyalty.

In his youth, his son Henry VIII (1491-1547) was a superb huntsman. Woodstock was perfect leisure for him and yet there was politics, too.

In 1529, when Henry’s hoped for divorce from Catherine of Aragon was a growing issue, Sir Thomas More was at Woodstock with him. Thomas was to lose his life a few years later for his opposition to the king. No doubt persuasion and pressure were being applied.

Clearly it was for political reasons and not all for pleasure that the young princess (later Queen) Elizabeth (1553-1603) was imprisoned in the royal manor at Woodstock by her half-sister, Queen Mary (1516-1558), from May 1554 to April 1555.

Neglect had made it almost uninhabitable, so “decayed and prostrated” that her gaoler complained that there were scarce three doors in the place which could be securely locked. Her attendants had to be boarded out in the town, to the advantage of the growing Woodstock.

Apparently they were a happy gathering. One day one of them, to amuse his young mistress, reported to her rather sober-minded gaoler that a goat had been seen talking to her in the garden without permission. He reported it “for fear it was a Welshman in disguise”. Elizabeth did not seem to resent Woodstock, for as queen she returned formally four times, The English Civil War (1642-1649) had a devastating effect on Woodstock. Both its rural quiet and its economy were ruined by the actions of troops from both sides.

The loss of life among the men, drafted often unwillingly into the army of either side, was appalling.

Buildings took a severe battering. The Puritans destroyed the “idolatrous” ornamentations of the church. Royalist prisoners held there burned the furniture for warmth in a cold winter.

The Commonwealth was ruthless in stripping trees from the park. After a 28-day siege and violent bombardment, the Royalist garrison of the royal manor surrendered, on April 26, 1646, having fought to the last barrel of powder. The manor was never in good repair again.

It had one last moment, however. Cromwell’s commissioners attempted to live in what was left of it but were driven out, terrified, by a ghostly being. They described it in various shapes — as a dog and a bear and reported smells of stinking ditchwater, grievous noises, plates being thrown about.

They beat a hasty retreat, leaving the manor in the possession of ‘The Just Devil of Woodstock’, who turned out to be a local Royalist with a sense of humour, one Joe Collins.

The war also badly affected two important Woodstock industries — bell making and gloving virtually disappeared. The Puritan mentality condemned bell ringing as unholy and gloving as frivolous.

Gloving gradually recovered after the war until, in 1852, it was producing 7,200 pairs of gloves a week. Always a cottage and small scale industry it gradually vanished in the 20th century, in the face of mass production.

In 1705, the park ceased to be royal when it was given to John Churchill, 1st Duke of Marlborough, as the site for the great palace to be built for him to honour his vital victory over the French at the Battle of Blenheim.

Now began an unbroken association with Woodstock of ten generations of the Churchill family. Blenheim replaced the royal manor as an important part of the Woodstock economy, particularly in employment, provision of services and the all important attraction of visitors.

Construction of the palace found up to 1,000 workmen on site for decades, bringing welcome funds, as well as numbers to swell the population of a growing Woodstock.

The 1st Duke was kindly disposed. He paved the streets and paid £100 to have the church bells recast. His Duchess, Sarah, however, insisted that the ruins of the manor be demolished. She rightly suspected that Vanbrugh, the architect, was secretly living there (at the Duke’s expense!) and resented being exploited.

Nothing now remains of the manor — except an ancient sycamore, reputedly planted in 1723 to mark its passing. Occasionally too, Blenheim staff find traces on the site in fragments of pottery brought to the surface by animal activity.

Visitors are the lifeblood of Blenheim and Woodstock. They are invariably awed and interested but on occasions have an innocent charm.

The first known occasion was at about this time and refers to the ‘Woodstock Echo’. Apparently, at a place in the park, an echo would reply, during the day to up to 17 syllables spoken and in the evening to 20. However, famously, one visitor complained that he had been there and had heard nothing. Gently it had to be explained to him that he had to say something first.

The influence of the 4th Duke (1839-1817) was vital. He made radical changes to the park. The appeal and reputation of the new, naturalistic-style landscape and lake Capability Brown designed for him there immediately began to draw visitors.

Today it is a vital element in the attraction of tourist visitors to both Blenheim and Woodstock. The Duke also built the town hall. His Duchess built Caroline Court, the almshouses which bear her name. Originally for ‘poor widows’, today they respond to needs but a little more widely.

The extensive charity work, among the elderly, the sick, the poor and especially in education, of the 7th Duke, and his Duchess, Frances, is marked by the fine stained-glass window dedicated to him in the church.

Even though she left Blenheim more than 100 years ago, an affectionate awareness of the 9th Duchess (formerly Consuelo Vanderbilt) still lingers in Woodstock. She showed great kindness and help towards any need, among the poor, the elderly, the sick, the hungry, and especially among children.

This sensitivity was strong in her. Many years later, just before and after the Second World War, now married to a Frenchman, she showed the same caring for needy French children. The French government awarded her the Legion d’honneur.

In 1950, the 10th Duke (1897-1972) made the brave and, for Woodstock, the far reaching decision to open Blenheim to the public and to encourage tourists, a decision which has been of huge importance to local prosperity.

His son, the present Duke, has dedicated himself to the welcome of visitors to Blenheim and to preserving it for the pleasure of future generations.

Of all the Churchill names one is universally recognised, that of Sir Winston. Born at Blenheim and an Honorary Freeman of Woodstock, he was openly and unashamedly proud of both achievements.

He would have been completely approving of this celebration of Woodstock@900. Powerful historian that he was, and peerless in use of words, years ago he gave an apt ending to such a story: “THE NATION THAT FORGETS ITS PAST HAS NO FUTURE”

Recommended reading: Woodstock and the Royal Park, edited by John Banbury, Robert Edwards, Elizabeth Poskitt, Tim Nutt. Specially written for Woodstock@900