Old Basing's been forgotten by time ... to its modern benefit

Almost everywhere in and around Basingstoke is bigger and more significant today than it was in the past. Old Basing is a notable exception.

For a little over a century after 1531, Basing (the "Old" came later) snuggled against one of biggest aristocratic palaces in the country. In ornate red brick accented with stone, Basing House resembled Hampton Court and sprawled over two separate but interconnected buildings with more than 360 rooms. The village beyond its walls would have been a bustling place, ready to spring into action to support regular royal visits (Henry VIII and all his reigning children came here) or simply to take care of the resident Paulet family and their entourage. 

The grandeur was a statement of success by the man who became the first Marquess of Winchester. William Paulet was Lord High Treasurer of England for more than 20 years and served in major government roles under Henry VIII, Edward VI, Mary I and Elizabeth I. He must have been an extraordinary diplomat to remain in favour through those tumultuous administrations, particularly since he remained Roman Catholic throughout. 

The site where the house once stood is now a pleasant place to stroll around ruins, earthworks and gardens while you contemplate how the mighty can fall. The best time to come is when historical re-enactors are encamped to commemorate Basing's role in the Civil War. (I wrote about that here.) The site was closed due to COVID precautions when I had a recent ramble, but you can see the original castle mound which held one of the palace's two main buildings from certain spots in the village.

The old gate lodge offers some picturesque (and free) sightseeing just next to the village pub.

But the only significant building still standing from those glory days is the enormous tithe barn.

Paulet family diplomacy couldn't carry them through the Civil War, however. I suspect the 5th Marquess' overt Roman Catholicism and close friendship with the French Catholic Queen Henrietta Maria made him a particularly juicy target for Cromwell. The Parliamentary leader was so irritated by two failed sieges of Basing House he came to Basingstoke to direct the third personally. 

So eager was Cromwell to destroy the Paulets and their cause that, once he'd taken the house, he not only destroyed it but encouraged villagers to re-use its materials to enhance their own homes. Thus fuelling a bit of a building boom in Old Basing in the 1640s. (While I can't be certain these particular buildings were part of the post-war boom, they certainly look the part.)

Basing House was destroyed, but its owner lived on and his son's political choices were luckier. He supported the import of William and Mary from Holland (The Glorious Revolution) and they rewarded him with a new title: Duke of Bolton. He rebuilt a very grand hunting lodge next to the old tithe barn (another memory long torn down, sadly) and chose to be buried in the village church. By this point both he and the parish church had converted to Church of England, reputedly much to the locals' dismay.

Villagers also were doubtless irritated that Charles removed himself from cheek-by-jowl proximity to the village by building the new family seat within a buffer zone of hundreds of acres of enclosed parkland. His new neoclassical pile was equidistant between Basing and the flourishing market centre of Basingstoke. Thus began Basing's slide toward's backwater-dom.

About a mile's walk from Old Basing's village centre you'll find the main gateway to the estate he built, called Hackwood Park.

Hackwood Park is no longer in the family and ... thanks to the M3 motorway ... could no longer be considered a part of Old Basing since the massive, always-bustling highway now cuts through the old estate and forms an impressive barrier between its old village and the house. Though you once might have walked easily from village to house, today the new gates are on the other side of Basingstoke and it's a drive of several miles to reach them. (The house isn't open to the public.)

The land between the arch and the motorway became a public park called Crabtree Plantation after the M3's construction. The views are spectacular, though the constant whir of traffic undermines the bucolic scene.

A long, narrow strip on the north side of the park is woodland, however, which muffles the traffic noise. It's a popular local spot to exercise both dogs and children, and can seem almost Tolkeinesque is certain lights.

Meanwhile, back in Old Basing, nothing much happened. Following the trajectory of places like Bruges and Venice, with its main claim to fame gone the village sank into quiet obscurity. Though people added houses in the 19th and 20th century, the place retains the feel of the 16th - 18th, and is one of the loveliest places to ramble around Basingstoke. 

There's a beautiful walk along the river Loddon ... and an unusual one, since so much of the river's access is privately controlled because of conservation and fishing rights.

Sitting alongside the river is one of the prettiest pubs in the area, Barton's Mill:

And the village remains full of picturesque houses to appreciate:

Though the modern-day Paulets have decamped to South Africa, the original ones sleep soundly in the parish church.

The fifth marquess, who fought Cromwell and lost, had grander ambitions and had built a lavish mortuary chapel on a hill above Basingstoke. But it was destroyed in the Civil War and is now just a picturesque ruin. (See this story for more.) His ancestor's tombs frame the high altar in Old Basing's parish church, and his son's tomb (pictured above) is in a side chapel.

Old Basing seems to be working on a new claim to fame. Last autumn catering veteran Tim Goodwin opened The Street Bakeshop, an old-fashioned bakery where everything is done on-site, by hand. Their sourdough is the best I've had outside of Michelin star restaurants, and their pastries on par with anything the Danes could crank out.

Fortunately bread and cake fall into the "essential" category so the shop has been able to remain open for take-away though lockdowns two and three. It's rare to see the place without a queue outside, and it's quickly become a local legend. 

So for what's probably the most picturesque walk in the Basingstoke area: start at The Street for coffee and pastries, take a long ramble around the village and perhaps even around Crabtree Plantation, then collapse at the soon-to-be-reopened Barton's Mill for a pub lunch beside the Loddon. 

The Sealed Knot brings history to life at Basing House

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.