If you ask a walker what time of year they like best for walking. It is almost certain that they would say autumn. It is the season of amazing leaf colours, distant mistiness and golden sunlight. These all act to elevate the vistas, heighten the senses and allow the walker a deeper connection to their environment. If you tie all of this in with a walk through the Wiltshire countryside then not only are you treated to such areas of outstanding beauty and natural history, but as you walk you are also catapulted through the many ages of England's past. It is an atmospheric journey of wonder and enchantment that stays with you long after you have returned. This is what we found when we recently visited the lovely Cranborne Chase area of Ansty, Swallowcliffe and Wardour. We started our walk at Wardour Castle Car Park. I will warn you that the drive to the castle is not for the faint hearted. It is a narrow, steep climbing road with many bends and fewer passing places than one would ideally like. Thankfully the road is usually quiet, and the views at the end of the journey are worth the somewhat tense drive. According to the 1911 book on Wiltshire names, the word Wardour might derive from the Anglo Saxon words “weard” and “óra” meaning to guard or watch the shore of a river (or sea). Indeed the name might date back even further and have Celtic origins with a similar meaning. As you arrive at the castle that is high on the hill and take in the views across the lake you immediately understand why it was given this name. It is also obvious why the owners of Old Wardour built a property in this location. However, the ruin is a constant reminder of a time when England was at war with itself, and shows that the Roundheads had little respect for the magnificent building and its lovely location. After parking the car, we headed in a southeasterly direction, away from the castle and onto a treelined path. As we walked, we stopped to see the occasional view of the ruined castle and the hills beyond. The route took us under what appeared to be an old footbridge and deeper into a wooded area with a variety of trees growing tall on either side. It didn’t take long for us to emerge onto a fence lined path that ran through open fields. This had wonderful views to the south including the prominent White Sheet Hill. Its Neolithic long barrow was just visible on the distant edge of the ridge. We had walked along this path before and remembered scores of blackberries lining the route. This time, too late in the season the brambles had already been trimmed back. We did however, notice what appeared to be mushrooms growing in the field close to the path. Sadly, they were too far away to accurately identify.
As we continued, it wasn’t long before we found ourselves again in woodland. This time the majority of the trees were conifers giving the woodland a different air to before. The deep green of the leaves cast a darker and more mysterious hue. This was interrupted only briefly by a shaft of sunlight, or the bright yellow orange of the false chanterelles that lined the path. It is this sort of woodland that for me conjures up the idea that other worldly beings might live within. Nothing stirred as we walked past, and we were soon out into the open, having paused only briefly to see Ansty Coombe and the idyllic little farmhouse that nestled there.
I admit that for us, Ansty was the major destination for this walk as I wanted to see what remains of the thirteenth century preceptory of the Knights Hospitaller and the area around the church where they had had one of their few commanderies in England. As I walked down Ansty’s sparsely lined streets I could still imagine these routes ringing to the Hospitallers’ horses hooves and the footsteps of pilgrims seeking shelter here.
The area by the church has a large pond and the air was very still on the day of our visit conveying a sense of peace and tranquility fitting to the tales of these knights and their worthy deeds. Ansty’s church of Saint James was also built in the thirteenth century by the Knights Hospitallers. There are still references to the order all around the building from the roof to the twentieth century etched glass. The small church retains an atmosphere of importance that belies its somewhat austere and humble appearance. For in the twelve hundreds this was one of only a few places in England where Catholic religious ceremonies that would be recognised by Rome could take place. The reason for this was that the King at the time (John Lackland) had been excommunicated by the pope due to a dispute over who should be the Archbishop of Canterbury. This might have been important for nobles, but I wonder how much the excommunication affected the common folk of the country. I would imagine the high taxes and harsh punishments concerned them more.
On our visit we found the church preparing for the harvest festival. The Norman font was already looking pretty with autumn coloured flowers and apples and no doubt more items would be added later in the week. I remember Harvest Festivals in the village I grew up in. Everyone brought something from cabbages and carrots to tins of baked beans and packets of tea. There were no bounds to the generosity of the villagers and the desire to be grateful for whatever bounty that they had. After the celebration the food found its way to those who needed it most. It is pleasing to see this tradition is still alive in the heart of the Wiltshire villages.
On first appearance the church windows seem plain, with only one of stained glass. However, on closer inspection many of the apparently clear windows are etched with inscriptions. These appeared to be memorials, biblical quotes and the motto and insignia of the Knight Hospitaller. I believe that all of the glass here was etched by David Peace who alongside Lawrence Whistler and William Wilson is acknowledged for reviving the craft. On leaving the church we again spent a few moments looking at the pond and what remained of the preceptory before continuing back towards the village. On reaching the famous maypole we turned right onto a steep footpath and climbed away from the settlement.
At the top of the hill magnificent views of Ansty and Swallowcliffe Down opened up before us. We stopped for a minute to catch our breath from the climb and to admire the scenery. Then we continued across open fields, noticing a number of different fungi on the way. This included a giant puffball which must have been about the size of two footballs.
The path here is believed to be an Anglo Saxon summer herepath. As I walked along it soaking up the afternoon sun and enjoying the opportunity to see the views, I wondered how many had walked along the path before me and what their thoughts had been and where their journey would have ended.
Still pondering this thought we found ourselves in a small copse and heading towards a kissing gate. Here a bullock was lying down and blocking our way. My thoughts were immediately thrust into the present and how we were going to end our journey. We stopped for a moment and considered which was the lesser of the two evils, continuing on hoping the beast would move, or going back and descending the very steep path. Deciding that neither of us wished for the latter we moved tentatively towards the gate. The bullock eyed us suspiciously very much in the way a child eyes a teacher when they think they have been caught misbehaving and wondering if they need to take action. Fortunately, as we edged closer, he knew the game was up and got up and skulked away moving a few feet from the gate before flopping down again. Grateful for his accommodation of us we passed with relative ease. All his friends in the field were equally disinterested in us, and we crossed the pasture without incident and found ourselves on the road into Swallowcliffe. As with Ansty, Swallowcliffe is small and sparsely populated. However, there is a lot of evidence that man has inhabited the area since prehistoric times with bronze age burials, Iron Age hillforts and Saxon bed burials all found in the local area. It has a pub, The Royal Oak. For anyone interested, this is currently part owned by the TV presenter James May. On the day of our visit, we arrived after closing time, so we contented ourselves with eating an orange as we sat on the nearby small green at the centre of the village.
Having rested we continued on past the nineteenth-century church and then turned right and across a meadow towards the mill. We continued on over a footbridge and then alongside a stream before emerging on to Tisbury Row, where we turned left and then right onto Jobbers Lane and almost immediately left to head back into mixed woodland. A few insects were flying about in the warm afternoon sunshine including red admirals and the odd hornet. Hornets seem to be more common now, but they don’t seem to notice me, so I have found that treating them in a similar way is the best policy and I find I can walk on without incident.
Soon we emerged from the woodland where our path continued in a field to our left. To our right the map signalled there were pillow mounds but there was little evidence of these visible from the path. I had always imagined that these mounds were some form of prehistoric burial, but actually they are medieval man made rabbit warrens. They were made at a time when the Normans wanted to cultivate rabbits for their meat and fur. Moving on we followed the right-hand edge of the field and entered Pheasants Copse, negotiating a well sign posted zigzagging path through the copse we exited out onto a field which we crossed diagonally towards Highwood Lodge. This brought us to the road that would lead us back to Old Wardour. This last part being a fairly easy, mostly tree lined walk with lovely views towards the west.
Finally, at the top of the hill, we found the car and the old ruin of Wardour Castle. To be honest I felt some empathy with the tattered building. Although it still managed to look majestic in the late afternoon sun, I very much doubt the same could be said of us.
Our walk was approximately 5 miles long. It could easily be extended to include the Iron Age hillfort of Castle Ditches near Swallowcliffe and a visit to Old Wardour Castle. Although the parking is free, the castle is owned by English Heritage and costs a fee to get in. There is little other parking in the area, but if you didn’t want to drive up to the castle, you could ask permission to park at the Royal Oak in Swallowcliffe.
