A Confusion of Bottoms
- Paul Timlett
- Nov 2
- 12 min read
Updated: Nov 4
I must confess this walk does not register very high on our “hidden” meter. Most of it is in plain sight of what is one of the busiest roads in the south of England. A road I have come to detest over the last 30 years. Yes I’m talking about the dreaded A303. But despite walking, cycling and driving through this area countless times I still managed to discover for myself some new and hidden back waters.
I’ve been meaning to explore the downs to the north of Mere for years. The many folds in the landscape caused by man’s presence over millennia combined with the forces of nature make this an enticing landscape. And on the day we visited, the low autumn sun on a bright clear day just served to highlight the profile of the countless earthworks, ditches and ripples even more.
Long term followers of Hidden Wiltshire will know that we have an unhealthy obsession with bottoms. And of course I am referring to the dry valleys, or combes, that can be found all over the county. If you look at the Ordnance Survey map of the whole area to the north of Mere you will find more bottoms than you can shake a stick at. I wondered what the collective noun for bottoms was. I have adopted the word “confusion” for now as it seems most appropriate for this area. So on a warm clear Tuesday in autumn my walking buddy Stu and I set out to explore.
I’d been to Mere the week before to get my car serviced. With a couple of hours to kill I wandered the streets in the early mist, and enjoyed a coffee in a delightful florists that doubles as a café on the little square in the centre. I also checked out the availability of parking for a day’s walk.
We parked in the main car park on Salisbury Street, opposite the F J Chalke the car dealership. It is a reasonable size car park which has the added advantage of being free. There is another smaller car park on Castle Street that is also free. Because of this the car parks can get busy. We were lucky enough to get the last remaining space by the medical centre. However, the car park is used by shoppers so spaces come free pretty quickly and we saw a few drivers wait for a few minutes for a space to become available. Failing that, if you head east and north along Salisbury Street in the direction of the A303 the road widens and there is plenty of road side parking there if you don’t mind the extra five minutes’ walk at the beginning of this walk (although you will save five minutes at the end as this is the way back into town).
Rather than begin by heading from the car park to Salisbury Street we used the alley behind it by the medical centre. This rejoins Salisbury Street at the square. We then headed along the quiet lane towards the magnificent Church of St Michael the Archangel.
I’d spent some time here whilst waiting for my car to be serviced the week before so did not re-visit it this time. However, I would thoroughly recommend spending some time here as long as you leave yourself enough time to complete the walk. Whilst the present day building dates from the 15th century there are features from the original 11thcentury building. I was particularly captivated by the impressive 15th century wooden rood screen, and what looked like a sea chest which was probably used to store church documents. It seemed to bear the date 1719 but perhaps even 1019.
And whilst you’re there, pop round the back of the church to see the beautiful 15th century chantry. The best view of it is from the back and the owners open the gardens to the public periodically. Rudyard Kipling’s parents are buried in the walled churchyard.
From the lane past the church we cut through the pedestrianised Church Lane between two old cottages, one 17th and the other 18th century, to reach Castle Street. We turned right and crossed the road here before turning left up a narrow alley towards Castle Hill.
Glyn wrote a blog for Hidden Wiltshire dated 18 October 2018 in which he included some fantastic drone images of Castle Hill. These give you a much better sense of what it looks like. You will find a link to his blog below. I couldn’t quite fathom how in 1253 Richard, the Earl of Cornwall, had constructed (or more precisely had constructed for him) a stone castle up here, with six towers, inner buildings and gates. But Glyn’s aerial images reveal that the summit is indeed flat. The views from the top are stupendous and there is a metal compass mounted on a stone plinth indicating the local landmarks together with more distant towns. Who knew that Cardiff was only 47 miles away, whilst John O’Groats is 530 miles – almost twice as far as Paris?
Descending from the summit plateau we turned west and went through a metal kissing gate with a notice asking walkers to close the gate as goats graze in the area beyond. We passed a small copse of beech trees planted in 1965 to commemorate Winston Churchill. The week before when I came up here the goats were sheltering beneath these trees with one of them lounging on the wooden bench!
A little further we soon found the goats, one of whom was reluctant to move from the path until we were almost standing on her.
Descending westwards, and passing through another kissing gate, the path turns north to cross over the A303. Then it was a straight forward case of following the track for two kilometres beside fields of arable (wild radish was growing during our walk in late October) whilst all the time White Sheet Hill loomed above us a kilometre to the east. We could make out the tiny figures of walkers silhouetted on the ridge. To our left we passed Zeals Knoll. Unbeknownst to us the name “Zeals” was to arise again a little later on the walk.
As we reached Search Farm across the field to our left we could see the ornate frontage of the Palladian mansion - Stourhead House, once the home of someone to whom we often refer at Hidden Wiltshire, Sir Richard Colt Hoare.
Soon after we reached The Drove, part of the network of ancient tracks that cross this landscape. Turning right we immediately entered an avenue of trees that formed a canopy over the track. The dappled sunlight made the autumn leaves glow a kaleidoscope of orange, yellow and green.
The track climbed gently and I stopped countless times to take more photographs, although my first attempt turned out to be the best. We were approaching Beech Clump which stands on a small promontory. From our position a hundred metres from the top we could make out something red, and assumed that it was someone enjoying a tranquil moment at the top of the hill. But as we approached, we realised that the red was a wreath of poppies and it was then that it dawned on me that this must be the location of the Dakota Memorial that John Gretch wrote about in a blog for Hidden Wiltshire in January 2019. You will find a link to John’s blog below and I will leave you to read his account of the tragic loss of Dakota TS436 which crashed on this hill on 19 February 1945 costing 21 young men their lives, having departed RAF Zeals just a few minutes before hand.
Somehow this seemed to be an appropriate place to rest for a while. We sat quietly, each deep in thought, on a log close to the memorial. Sipping coffee we listened to the wind rustling through the leaves of the beech trees, some ancient, some planted more recently. Many of the trees here were also lost in the crash that cost these young men their lives. We felt the presence of both as sun flickered through the canopy above our heads.
Reluctantly we left. I suspect I wasn’t the only one saying a silent prayer, remembering all those lost souls and thinking about the futility of war.
As we emerged from the little wood White Sheet Hill lay close by straight ahead of us. To our left we could see Long Knoll and Little Knoll over towards Kilmington and Maiden Bradley. On reaching the car park we had a quick look at the two National Trust interpretation boards by the pedestrian gate before making the steep ascent to the hill.
I remember the last I came here, not long after the first COVID lock down restrictions were lifted. I remember being appalled at the amount of dog mess that had been left along the path that climbs the hill. It wasn’t quite so bad this time but there was enough of it about to mean that we had to keep our eyes firmly glued to the ground. The National Trust signs at the gate ask dog owners to a) keep their dogs on a lead (there is a lot of livestock on the hill) and b) clean up after their animals. During the hour or so we spent on the hill we saw only one dog owner with her dog on the lead. She was also the only one carrying a bag to clear up after her dog. And there were a fair few of them. Here at Hidden Wiltshire we are keen advocates of improved, responsible access to the countryside. But every time I have discussed it with farmers and landowners the number one concern is dog owners. I know plenty of responsible dog owners but the irresponsible ones, of whom we saw several on White Sheet Hill, ruin it for everyone. Rant over.
As we wound our way up the hill I wondered how on earth archaeologists make sense of this landscape. There are lumps and bumps everywhere as our ancestors over the course of thousands of years built structure after structure, often on top of one another.
A cursory glance at the Historic England website reveals a Neolithic causeway enclosure, Bronze Age burial mounds and cross dykes, a large Iron Age multivallate hillfort and Medieval field systems.
The landscape is criss-crossed by a network of ancient tracks (some bearing milestones) including one that may have carried King Alfred’s troops on their journey to the Battle of Ethandun. Sadly for modern archaeology, Sir Richard Colt Hoare and his men had a field day up here as many of the ancient monuments had been excavated centuries ago.
I’m not even going to attempt to go into detail of the history of this landscape as it’s been done countless times including by us. Our objective was further south eastwards and the Open Access land. The route I’ve shown on the OS Map accompanying this blog (which you’ll find in the OS Maps app with the title Mere Down, White Sheet Hill and Great Bottom) is somewhat arbitrary. Being Open Access land we are in theory free to roam anywhere. So we had our lunch by the trig point next to the reservoir which is to the south of the route I’d plotted. We intended to re-join the mapped route somewhere on the Mid Wilts Way by crossing Open Access land. However this was blocked by a permanent stock fence on White Sheet Castle. All well and good if there is a gate to pass through but we found the gate locked with a rusty padlock and a sign to keep out due to the presence of ewes and lambs. This is not legal. So we climbed the gate to continue across the Open Access area. Needless to say there were no sheep or livestock of any nature.
In the face of this obstacle we decided to return to the mapped route so that we could check for other problems before publishing this blog. Back on the droveway we walked to the point where it meets the Mid Wilts Way that crosses it. Here we passed through a this time unlocked gate on the right heading south into the Open Access area again, our aim being to establish whether it was possible to follow this all the way back to Mere.
Passing the silhouetted cow in my photograph we came to another fence in which there was an open field gate which gave a stunning view down into Great Bottom and Mere beyond.
The full extent of the ridges to the west and east of the combe reveal themselves here and we saw a walker or two on the Mid Wilts Way that follows the western ridge. But we turned left and followed the fence line to the east. At this point the route passes across the head of Great Bottom, the slopes sweeping steeply away.
There is extensive soil creep here and the going is hard on the ankles, so it is best to stay high by the fence line and follow the route on the map. The map showed another fence line crossing the Open Access land but we were to find it had been removed. We were puzzled as to why the fence posts were made of concrete or embedded in concrete. A sign lower down on the slopes revealed why. This was once a military firing range, now de-commissioned. The steep slopes at the head of the combe would have made an extensive and safe bank into which live rounds could be fired.
We continued around the top of the combe as a tractor rolled the field on the other side of the fence. A vast field in which arable crops will no doubt appear next spring. A sparrowhawk shot past, diving down into the combe in pursuit of some small bird. We eventually came to the second fence across this Open Access area. This one had not been removed but was in poor state of repair. It was a simple matter of pulling up the loose strands of barbed wire and ducking underneath. We mused at the old now disused iron fence posts with their simple finials that dotted the route here, wondering why the manufacturers went to the effort bearing in mind their intended purpose.
Eventually the route joined a footpath that descended from the B3095 Mere Down road. Here we found earthworks marked on the map in Gothic script but which are not noted on the Historic England website.
I’ve no idea what these earthworks were. This point was another of the day’s objectives. We wanted to get a better look of the many strip lynchets on the slopes of Chetcombe Bottom, Aucombe Bottom and Ashfield Bottom to the east beyond the road. Again much of this land is Open Access and we wanted to check the feasibility of a walk for another day.
Mission accomplished we continued our descent along the clear path across the slopes and over a stile towards the point where the B3095 passes underneath the A303.
After following the road for a short stretch we turned right into a small housing estate then first left to follow the footpath south of Well Head. We were back in Mere but the walk still held a few surprises. Despite the noise from the ever present A303 we found ourselves in a delightful part of Mere through which a stream, Shreen Water, flowed between lovely old cottages. A sign of their antiquity was the absence of any road to the cottages. Blissful but presumably the residents have to use wheelbarrows to ferry their weekly shop! If you follow the route on my map you will find many little vignettes along the way before returning to the car park.
Apart from the reason for my rants this was a really fabulous walk that was more about the views than the history, although the history element here is almost incomparable. The weather definitely helped as we were treated to clear skies and a fresh but not too chilly wind with mostly dry ground. We were also treated to a beautiful sunset on the way home, the sky a mixture of powder blue and pink complete with a perfect half moon. Sadly I was driving along a narrow lane with nowhere to stop and photograph it. Sometimes such images are best left to memory.
In all the walk was 10.36 kms (6.44 miles) with plenty of options to vary it. The going was difficult at times due to a couple of steep climbs at Castle Hill (which can be avoided) and White Sheet Hill, and the steep sides of Great Bottom. I imagine in places the surface could be muddy in wet weather but not enough to prevent passage. Be aware that cows do graze in parts of the Open Access areas but they never bothered us despite our passing them close by. They seem used to people walking up there.
Link to route in OS Maps app
A lovely article, thank you.
Were some of the earthworks for chalk pits, for the local production of lime?
One of the other curiosities I've found in the area is how depopulated it became in the 1800's. Farming family names (e.g. Hurle) that were all over this part of Wiltshire seem to have "up sticks" and moved to London. Not just Mere, but all the Deverills, West and East Knowle, Maiden Bradley and places north to Frome. Why? I don't know, but maybe it was the same kind of "progress" that let to the deserted villages found all across Wiltshire.