Saturday 27th January ‘23. DH, RW, TO, AC, DL, JB, CH, Scumpy, Albus & Maisie
After a new route last week I thought it was time we returned to one of our first walk locations at East Knoyle, just over the border into Wiltshire, for the last walk of January 2024. We parked up by the village hall and promptly paid our dues and spot on 9.00 the Oatsmobile arrived. As soon as the doors opened Maisie jumped out to greet her new friends again shortly followed by Trevor flashing a bit of leg in his winter shorts. From the other side Scrumpy made a quick exit whilst Richard was the exact opposite of Trevor, obviously feeling the cold as he was wrapped up in six layers with hat and a rucksack carrying his hot flask! The day had started with an unexpected frost and a short discussion about the temperature followed, which allowed Richard time to react to the gip he was getting and put his gillet back into the car. Whilst all this was going on Adrian let us know that he had strapped up his toes ready for the walk but realised he had not got his stick this week. Thankfully Richard swiftly offered a loan of his and so eventually we were good to go!
We turned left onto the road and past the Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, a Grade 1 listed building, which has been at the heart of parish life for over a thousand years. The oldest part of the structure is the chancel, the nave dates from the 13th century and the tower housing a peel of six bells from about 1450. The plasterwork in the chancel is unique and was designed by Dr Wren, a 17th century rector, whose famous son Christopher was born in the village in 1632.
We made our way through the village and passed the Wren post office and stores and those of us who had been this way before noticed a new addition in the form of a large stone geometric sculpture on a plinth on the green opposite the war memorial. On closer inspection there was no plaque explaining what it was, what it commemorates or who designed it, and so with no one any the wiser we had to move on uninformed. Subsequent ’Googling’ reveals that it is a very recent addition and is called The Wren Stone, in recognition of Sir Christopher Wren, the architect of St Paul’s Cathedral. Created by the 82 year old Bristol born sculptor John Maine who has lived in the village for over 35 years, it is made from Portland stone and sits on a larger piece of Portland and was unveiled in October 2023 to commemorate 300 years since Wren’s death. I’m sure our mathematical correspondence would have immediately informed us that in geometry it is called a regular icosahedron, a convex polyhedron with 20 faces, 30 edges and 12 vertices. It is one of the five Platonic solids, and the one with the most faces. Maine, a member of the prestigious Royal Academy, has worked extensively in the UK and all over the world.
We climbed out of the village along Wise Lane and around a very tight bend. One hundred yards along we turned north and along the driveway to Slades House. We paused briefly at the grade II listed building and at a religious looking plaque above the door, which turns out to be Portuguese for something along the lines of ‘God lives in my house’. We were now on the former estate of Clouds House, an 4,000+ acre estate bought by politician Percy Wyndham in 1876. He had Clouds House, which we could see across a large garden area, designed by British architect Phillip Webb, known as the father of Arts and Craft Architecture, which was completed on 1891. The house is now grade II listed and since 1983 has been a treatment centre for drug dependence and alcohol dependence, under the name Clouds House. In 2007 the Clouds House treatment centre merged with two other organisations to form the charity Action on Addiction, which has its is headquarters at East Knoyle.
We passed a large stable block and then had a steady climb up a minor road before we branched off right and through a short wooded area to come out by the former wind powered corn mill which dates back to the 1700s and was constructed using local Shaftesbury Green stone and rubble. It has a battered tower, built on a circular plinth/mound and was used for grinding barley meal. It last milled in 1896 and a sketch of the mill drawn in the early 1900's shows the tower had already lost its weather-boarded cap and some sails. It was further destroyed in a fire caused by a firework used in the celebrations for the Coronation of King George V in 1911 and the remains of the workings were subsequently removed.
The mill at this time was part of the Clouds Estate and Lord Wyndham had the derelict tower converted to an artists studio/folly somewhere between 1913-25, the building still now retaining the four hipped dormers in the roof but the original glazing having been replaced by wooden shutters. The windmill was clearly built to take advantage of the south westerly prevailing winds as it sits atop a ridge line with terrific views out to the west. Time was pressing and so we headed on through a small wooded area which looped around the hamlet of The Green, coming out on the green opposite the Fox and Hounds pub. From there is was a short walk along the road until we took a left turn onto a bridleway called Martha’s Lane. The lane is around 1 mile long and deceptively drop s around 100 metres along its length. At the right angled turn, as it changes into Upton Lane and conveniently at the 2 mile point, we stopped for the distribution of this weeks confectionery rations courtesy of Dereyk. The lane was firm and dry in the upper stages but as we reached the lower portion it got wetter and more of a challenge for the adults, although our four legged friends were takin ing it all in their stride. At the bottom we turned left onto a country road on which some drivers treated as a race track judging by the speed they approached us. It was a steady climb taking us past a private nature reserve on one side of the road and a large construction site opposite. Before the climb got too steep we turned right along a pathway above a series of small lakes and then into a couple of fields with good views up to the large properties which sit amongst the ridge in an area aptly going by the name of Underhill.
It was a slow and steady climb up for us across an open field and as we paused for breath it was an ideal opportunity to take this weeks ‘groupie’. (The term 'selfie' refers to a person taking a photo of oneself and posting or sharing it on a social media website. However, a 'groupie or groufie' is when a person takes a photo of themself and other people and posts it on a social media website). Once at the top we exited onto the driveway down to Little Leigh, a grade11 home, and then onto a road opposite the former rectory at the edge of East Knoyle as we made our way eastwards back towards the cars. On our right hand side we passed the extension area of the village cemetery, which contains a Wyndham family area. Further down we came to the gates leading into Knoyle Place which I was initially told was the birthplace of Christopher Wren. However I have read a lot more about him and it appears that he was actually born in a now demolished cottage very close to where the new village memorial to him is, although the family later lived in the rectory at some point. Outside the Old School House we saw a selection of sculptures some similar to the Wren Stone, which although we didn’t realise it at the time is actually the studio of John Maine. As we arrived back at the village hall we had completed the 4 mile circular walk arounds Wrens village and area in just over 2 hours.
It was then a 10 minute drive down the A350 and up into Shaftesbury for breakfast at Skevy’s on the Wincombe trading estate. Orders were placed and paid for at the counter and we grabbed our usual table in the corner by the window. John very kindle acted as the ad hoc waiter to get the milk for our drinks and before too long our meals were being served. Trevor had gone large again but was not too keen on the potatoes, whilst John & Chris opted for the veggie offering. The rest of us went with the standard although a couple of us did manage to sneak on an extra portion of black pudding. The dogs of course were not forgotten and had a plate of cut up sausage between them. With the drinks thrown in, a very reasonable breakfast, even if I did loose some of my tea through the cracks in the mug!
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