Don't Let The Bedbug Bite

Weathervane on Kingsclere Church, (c) Picasa

We have some eccentric weathervanes in this country, fashioned in the image of angels, dragons, horses, ships, fish... but I am certain that the church tower in the pleasant Hampshire village of Kingsclere is the only one to boast a bedbug.

I had arrived in the village on a warm and bright day in early August, having planned to meet up with my Eldest, his partner J, and their friend L, who were driving in from L's home in Reading. This group of four would be Team Vulpine for the day.

Arriving first, I decided to have a look around the village church, as they tend to be the oldest and most historic structures in the vicinity. Glad I was that I satisfied my curious streak, as the building contains the exceptional tomb of Sir Henry and Lady Bridget Kingsmill, who passed away in 1624 and 1672 respectively.

Kingsmill Tomb (c) Mike Searle

The Kingsmills were major landowners back then, with their seat at nearby Sydmonton Court. One of their grandchildren, Anne Kingsmill, became a poet at the Restoration court of Charles II, making her one of our first female poets, and later became the Countess of Winchelsea after marrying into the Finch family (whose own stately pile in Kent was once visited by my Youngest and I in 2017).

As I stepped out of the church, my companions arrived and parked close to my own vehicle in the village car park. After a quick trip to a grocery to stock up on supplies, we hefted our backpacks onto our shoulders and set out on a ramble... one that would take us onto the high ground of the North Wessex Downs Area Of Outstanding Beauty.  This rather large AONB spreads itself across the counties of Berkshire, Hampshire, Wiltshire and Oxfordshire and also includes such impressive landscapes as the Berkshire Downs, the Savernake Forest and the Vale Of Pewsey. It contains such sights as the Uffington Horse, Silbury Hill and the Avebury Stone Circle, and one of the major industries of the area is the breeding and training of racehorses. We are on the south-eastern spur of the AONB, and it is our intention today to traverse the three Downs that gaze loftily down upon the village of Kingsclere. Not just because of the impressive views, but also because they feature in a beloved story with which we are all familiar. So, a quest for literary as well as natural history.

Most of us have been here before, but this time we are going to do it properly. As we stride out of the village, heading south, the three Downs loom temptingly, almost glowing in the sunshine.

Map of our route

Some years have passed since I was last here, and that occasion was a bright but breezy February afternoon, when I brought my children here following a steam journey on the Watercress Line. It is L's second visit - on her first, she parked up on the Downs and her car was broken into, so she is probably glad this time to leave it in the comparative safety of the village. She has joined the Team on a previous literary quest, two years ago when we were tracking down Jane Austen elsewhere in Hampshire. More recently, she joined us in an exploration of Runnymede in Surrey.

Runnymede is, of course, famously connected with King John, thanks to that Magna Carta business. He also casts his historic shadow over Kingsclere, for he is the reason that the church is surmounted by the representation of a parasite.

The King had a hunting lodge on Cottington Hill, south of the village (interestingly, the sample of OS map above shows earthworks and a 'settlement'). During a hunt in the year 1204, a fog came down but the King reached the safety of Kingsclere and opted to spend the night at one of the inns. His night proved unrestful, as he kept being attacked by a bedbug. He gave an order that the village should remember this occasion by erecting a representation of the annoying creature... hence the unusual weathervane. Pure folklore, unfortunately... the vane was erected several centuries after the event.

After leaving the village, we cross a couple of large fields and ascend the scarp. The flora of the chalk downs attracts many handsome butterflies, flitting around and enjoying the warmth and brightness of High Summer. There is excremental evidence of rabbits on the slope, but we fail to spot any. For some reason I have never seen bunnies up here, which is a bit odd as the area is quite well known for them.

L, Eldest and J ascend the scarp

At the peak of the scarp is a long stretch of 'Gallops', where racehorses are trained. Much of the land around here is owned by the Sydmonton Court Estate, who operate a stud farm and also maintain a dairy herd. The house itself is mostly concealed by trees to the northwest, but we would be getting closer to it later on our walk.

This is Cannon Heath Down, the first of the three 'downs' we will be walking across. The footpath takes us across the Gallops and we continue west. A trig point, familiar from my last Wintry visit when I watched the sun descend behind it, sits quietly in a field to our left. On our right, the Gallops come to an end and are replaced by a dense woodland that covers the slope at this point. The path passes between the woods and the fields, and this is the Central of our three downs, the one known as Watership.

When Richard Adams wrote his famous children's epic in the early 1970's, he described a 'beech hanger' at the crest of the Down, the local name for a copse of beech trees, although much cover art of the books show only a single tree. The landscape has changed since then, and Watership Down is now far more heavily wooded.

Watership Down from the west

The path descends slightly into a hollow, with arable fields to our left and the woods to our right. We cross a small country road and onto the third down, Ashley Warren Down. The name suggests the presence if rabbits, but the area's celebrity beasties remain elusive to our sight.

The road between Watership and Ashley Warren Downs

Between the fields and the path, yellow sow-thistle proudly blooms

View from the wooded scarp

As we continue the stroll, the woods begin to thin and the open areas return. We pause for a while so that members of the party can have fun with a low hanging tree.

Eldest and J

At the foot of the Downs, we can see a line of Iron Trees, instantly recognisable to anyone familiar with the 1979 animated version of Watership Down, especially in the scene that was accompanied by the Art Garfunkel song 'Bright Eyes'.

The Iron Trees

Our westerly ramble is taking us close to the end of this stretch of the Downs, before the land falls into the valley along which the A34 Winchester-Oxford road runs. Here, now, is some ancient history. In a field of wheat, bisected by the poppy--lined path upon which our feet plod, is a prominent round barrow, a tumulus of the Bronze Age, maybe erected over the remains of a Bronze Age notable. Beyond the tumulus, separated from the wheatfield by fencing, is a series of earthen ditches and ramparts. We have found Ladle Hill, a lofty hillfort thrown up by the local tribe over two millenia ago, possibly due to the approaching threat of the invading Romans.

Wheat and poppies. All you need to make a delicious bread roll.

Ladle Hill

Ladle Hill has been of great value to archaeologists. Because it was unfinished, possibly because the tribe decided to favour Beacon Hill to the west, it has given scholars the chance to evaluate just how these structures were created. It seems that different teams of workers were throwing up the rampart simultaneously, rather than having one team gradually working their way around.

The colourful flora of Ladle Hill. And legs.

Ladle Hill has more than archaeological value; it is a biological SSSI, a Site of Special Scientific Interest, due to the variety of plant life.

Brightwort

Bedstraw

We loiter on Ladle Hill for a while, sipping our drinks, eating our snacks and gazing at the views toward the north, and across the valley to our west. The hulk of Beacon Hill is clearly visible, a place of deer and ravens, once explored by
Me and my Youngest. Scanning left, we can just make out - shielded by a screen of trees - the tallest tower of Highclere Castle, stately pile of the Earl of Carnarvon, a building known to millions around the world as its TV alter ego, Downton Abbey.

When we set off, we begin our descent. A track, shielded by trees, follows the falling gradient. I get the impression that the track was once wider, perhaps a coach track or a drover's way.

The old green track, with L.

Along the way, we continue our own observations of the flora and fauna. A young slow-worm slithers across the path. A startled roe deer sprints from our approach, and a gnarled old tree shows us the quality of its fungi.

Slow-worm

Old tree

Fungi

The dappled shade of the old green track eventually gives way to a country road, and we swing right, heading toward Kingsclere. After a short time we enter the hamlet of Sydmonton, and divert onto a public footpath heading north, a footpath that follows a farm track.

The path through Sydmonton Court (c) Graham Horn

There are handsome farm buildings and very well maintained gardens on our left. On our right, the trees shield the great house of Sydmonton Court, in the Kingsmill family for hundreds of years, and sold only on the late 1970's. An appropriate cat greets us on the track, shortly before a break in the trees gives us a glimpse of the mansion itself.

Sydmonton Court

This is the country pile of the most successful composer in history, Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber. He was responsible for some of the most popular stage musicals in history, such as Evita, Jesus Christ Superstar, Phantom Of The Opera, Starlight Express, Joseph And The Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat and, of course, Cats, which is why the appearance of a moggy on the track was so appropriate.

Not the cat we saw.

Walking across the grounds, then turning right to pass Watership Farm, we see kites and buzzards circling the higher ground to our left. We pass the farm, turn right at another junction and follow a bridleway for a short distance until it brings us to another farm track, and the entrance to another farm.

An important place in Watership Down

In Richard Adams novel, Nuthanger Farm is the location where the Watership rabbits attempt to free hutch rabbits, as they need does to supplement their warren. At the end of the novel, when the warren is under attack from the rival warren of Efrafa, the Watership rabbits free the farm's dog and goad it to chase them back to their besieged warren, wreaking havoc among their enemies in the process.

We stroll down the farm track back toward the road, following the course of the fictional fleeing rabbits. We pause at the junction, seeing the gap in the hedgerow through which they would have sprinted, furious canine in pursuit, and the field with the iron trees which they would have traversed before they hared their way up the Down. Yes, pun intended.

The route taken by the rabbits in the novel

We have seen and done what we came to see and do, and now we follow the road back to Kingsclere, the views of the Downs resplendent to our south.

Watership Down

Our vehicles patiently wait for us in the village car park, and today's version of Team Vulpine splits up. L departs for the journey to Reading, while the rest of us head for Basingstoke, where a Harvester restaurant is going to make our dinner. As we drive away, I take a last glance at the tower of St Mary's church, and its amusing adornment, and we leave Kingsclere to the coming evening. And a message for the villagers that remain.

Don't let the bedbug bite.

St Marys, Kingsclere