To keep us in, or to keep us out – the wide and varied styles of stile

Without the convenience of stiles our journeys would be much more difficult and at times impossible.

I doubt if we can credit any particular person or period in history with the invention of the stile, but its function is quite simple. It enables the landowner and perhaps his dog to have free passage around his property while containing livestock within the hedges or walls.

Generally speaking, stiles prevent access by sheep, cattle and horses while permitting access to humans and their dogs as well as small wild animals.

Because stiles have been constructed over many centuries by landowners and farmers, their individual designs reflect their specific needs. As they are also built from local materials such as stone, slate or wood, they differ considerably from place to place with some styles of stile being found only in very localised or specific areas.

In the Lake District, for example, many are made from slabs of slate as they cross walls made from the same material; the same applies to the Pennine Dales and North York Moors where stiles are little more than protruding slabs of stone securely incorporated within dry stone walls.

In areas rich with large estates, a type of ladder stile, sometimes with wide treads, will enable walkers to surmount the high walls at one side and then descend safely at the other. Dogs can often cope with these too.

Concerning the origin of stiles, one of the earliest references was made the Saxon King Offa in AD 779 while in 1546 the phrase “to helpe a lame dogge ower a stile” meant exactly the same as it does today.

There was also a piece of rural wisdom that produced the advice: “not to leap over the hedge before you come to the stile” which today has been shortened to “look before you leap.”

One of the oldest designs is probably the Cornish slab which, as the name suggests, originated in that county. Instead of a field gate, there would be a wide opening that was surprisingly capable of containing cattle or sheep.

The secret was a series of stone slabs that ran parallel to the hedge or wall at either side. They looked like narrow stone rails and were installed so that they were about a foot apart (30cm) with a deep space between each one. Quite simply, sheep, cattle and other cloven-hoofed animals cannot cross them.

It is not clear when Cornish slabs first appeared, but their successors are cattle grids that can be found in deer parks and at farm entrances around the moors and dales. Consisting of narrow bars of iron set in parallel lines with gaps of a few inches and set over a shallow pit, these useful grids protect the entrances to farms, parks, gardens and even villages. Clovenhoofed animals, like sheep and deer cannot cross them.

Another very simple stile is shaped like the letter V. This leads through dry stone walls with the arms of the V being formed by large slabs of stone.

This type of stile, often called the squeezer, will permit access by dogs and small creatures like rabbits, foxes and badgers but cannot be used by larger animals such as sheep, deer, horses and cattle.

People carrying rucksacks also find it difficult! It is very simple but most effective.

Another stile is called the zig zag, sometimes known as the kissing gate.

This is shaped rather like a recumbent letter Y within a hedge or wall, with the gap between the upright legs of the Y having a moveable and sometimes weighted gate between them.

Because animals like horses, cattle and sheep are not hinged in the middle, they find it impossible to negotiate the zig zag and similar difficulties are experienced by people on horseback, cyclists and cross-country motor bikers. Dogs can sometimes cope but may need a helping human hand if the moveable gate is heavily weighted.

The turnstile is also very simple. In its most basic form, it is nothing more than a cross of metal or wood that is placed horizontally upon a post so that it can swivel around when someone wishes to pass through.

The pressure of our body causes the turnstile to rotate and admit us, but it frustrates similar attempts by large animals. Today, those simple stiles have been developed into coin operated gateways that one finds at the entrances to public toilets, football grounds, racecourses and other places open to large numbers of people.

They are still called turnstiles.

A RECENT visit to the Spring Flower Show at Harrogate was enlivened by several intriguing displays of bonsai trees. For the uninitiated, these are genuine but miniature trees of all varieties that have been nurtured in containers.

Some on display were only a foot or so high (30cm) while others were probably up to 3ft (120 cm or so) in height – but all were miniature replicas of normal sized specimens.

The name bonsai comes from the Japanese and is now widely used to indicate all varieties of miniature trees that grow in containers. The bon is a deep tray that is used for the cultivation of these trees and so the tern bonsai literally means bon-planted.

Some of the bons are oblong, while others are oval or round, but they do not have the appearance of traditional plant pots.

The tiniest bonsai trees may be only one inch tall (2.5cm) whilst the largest may reach a height of around four feet (120cm), and I was assured they could be grown both indoors and outdoors if the conditions are favourable. The larger ones, in their specially designed bons, may require at least two people to move them from place to place.

The cultivation of bonsai trees (and indeed other plants with woody stems) dates to the ancient Egyptians, and in some cases the bons (the containers) were cut into rocks.

When the Japanese adopted this technique, they used bonsai trees to decorate their homes and gardens; at the time, the art was known by its Chinese name of penzai but it was around 1800 that the Japanese introduced the term bonsai .

The cultivation of bonsai trees sounds to be a very absorbing and challenging hobby.

A READER from Masham has told me about a blue tit that comes to her bird feeders but adds that it is deformed. Its beak is about twice the length of a normal one and very distinctive. Despite this, the bird can cope with the food she places out for her bird visitors and she wonders whether there is any cause or explanation for such a deformity.

All I can say is that freaks do occur quite frequently within the bird world – indeed, a one-legged blue tit recently coped well with our peanuts.

I suspect he was deformed rather than being the survivor of a trap or the loser of a battle of some kind. I believe that deformities of the beaks of birds both wild and domesticated is surprisingly common.