At least once each year we'll be subjected to another news story bemoaning how terrible the English are at history, accompanied by the inevitable vox pop interviews of natives who think Queen Victoria might have rebelled against the Romans while Winston Churchill fought the French. How this is possible in a country where history is so all-pervasive, accessible and real is a great mystery to me.
I suspect the members of the Sealed Knot share my frustration. In fact, they spend a good deal of their free time trying to inspire the kind of interest that will turn this trend around. The largest re-enactment society in Europe, the Sealed Knot has thousands of members who re-create the civil wars of the 1640s, complete with noisy artillery and impressive costumes. I'm just back from their re-enactment of the siege of Basing House. And while, sadly, the re-enactors outnumbered the spectators, I have no doubt that the children who attended will be inspired to learn more.
It's hard to believe from the sleepy village lanes and sheep-grazed mounds that remain today, but Basing House was once one of the grandest homes in England, similar to Hampton Court in both architecture and scale. Seat of the marquesses of Winchester, it had hosted every monarch from Henry VIII through James II. Inevitably, such tight connections to the royal family made the house a royalist stronghold in the Civil Wars. It was besieged for three years before the final battle in 1645, when just 300 remaining defenders finally couldn't hold the house against more than 7,000 parliamentarians.
It's the final day of this battle the Sealed Knot turns up to re-enact every year. Spectators settle on the old defensive earthworks in comfort as the battle unfolds below. Costumes and weapons are rigorously authentic, though a modern sound system is deployed to help the audience follow the action. The commentators are seasoned professionals, describing who's doing what and including dramatic readings to emphasise the pathos of it all. They even throw the action down to a roving reporter on the field, who does live interviews with commanders of various units.
There's no ammunition and everyone practices long and hard to avoid injury. But there's plenty of noise, smoke and clanging swords. The clash of the pikemen looks remarkably like a rugby scrum, in costume with poles. It's a glorious day out.
As is typical with these things, there was an encampment where you could wander and talk to the re-enactors about life in the 17th century. While it's not how I'd want to spend the majority of my weekends, I appreciate the craftspeople who turn up at these things to demonstrate wicker work, carpentry, needlework and pottery.
The day also gave me an excuse to have my first poke around the site of Basing House, which I drive by regularly but had never explored. As was his usual practice when Royalist homes refused to surrender, Cromwell made an example of the place by raising it to the ground. The villagers were then encouraged to take bricks for their own use, which explains why the centre of Old Basing is so charming. Thus there's not a great deal to see of the old house, though the Borough of Basingstoke and Deane has done a fine job of putting informative, family-friendly boards throughout to interpret the site. The most impressive thing left standing is the tithe barn which, it turns out, is the largest Tudor barn in the south of England. Yet another thing to recommend my neighbourhood.
Once through the pretty gate, there's a little building housing a model of Basing House at the height of its glory ... in Lego. Not only fun, but absolutely essential to get a sense of what occupied the grassy mounds you're then off to explore. There was a massive round keep with a variety of buildings inside (now you see a decent range of Tudor brick walls and foundations) and a neighbouring rectangular site where the family built an enormous extension when the first house wasn't big enough. Considering that royal visits could come with an entourage of more than 1000, this wasn't surprising.
Elsewhere in the grounds, there's an impressive knot garden in the shape of the coat of arms of the marquesses of Winchester, and a tiny museum where a collection of bits and pieces unearthed from the site gives you a sense of how rich the interiors must have been. Without the re-enactors, it would be a quiet place, good for a ramble on a sunny day. You're welcome to bring in dogs and picnics, and there's plenty of lawns to relax upon.
The views from the top of the old keep are lovely; rolling countryside interrupted only by Basingstoke's modern skyline. Standing amidst the ruins and the musket fire of the 17th century, looking toward the glass towers of the 21st ... just another Sunday in England.
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