West of Basingstoke: Literary roots, architectural surprises and dreamy riverbanks

Many great men have made their mark on Basingstoke, but it's a woman who'd achieved only a modest reputation by the time she died who stars on the signs marking the entrance to our borough.

Jane Austen's fame has grown exponentially since her death in 1817. If you're a foreign tourist making an effort to get to North Hampshire, there's a good chance she's the reason why. I've visited, and written before about, her house and museum at Chawton Cottage and her burial place at Winchester Cathedral. But I'd never made the effort to check out her birthplace at Steventon, just seven miles to the west of Basingstoke. 

It was an ideal objective for staycation exploration and lies just off a road that offers one of my favourite drives in the area. Turns out there are some pretty walks along it, too.

Calling Steventon a village is a stretch. It's a broadly-scattered collection of houses and farms just off the road that runs west from Basingstoke to Whitchurch (the B3400). The land here slopes gently down from the B3400 before starting to climb to a tree-lined ridge. From its top, you get a soothing view of the rolling hills and valleys, patch-worked with farm fields and woodland, that characterise this bit of England. 

The house where Jane grew up no longer exists, but Steventon's high point ... both geologically and for tourism ... is the church where her father was vicar.

I can imagine her eyes tracing the patterns on the painted arch, watching dust motes dance in the pools of sunlight and letting her mind drift to making up stories about other villagers in other places.

There are memorials to her father, mother and brother, who followed in his father's parish footsteps, near the altar. But as with the memorials in Winchester Cathedral, it took fans from later generations to commemorate Jane's presence here.

Returning to the main road, you continue west to the pretty and much larger village of Overton. In Jane's day it was probably best known for being near the source of the River Test, and would have been the easiest place for her family to do a bit of shopping. Later in the 19th century its claim to fame was a mill that created the paper used for official government banknotes, now transformed into the Bombay Sapphire Distillery.

My usual destination on the B3400 lies a mile further west: Hardy's Cottage Garden Plants. But with my favourite nursery for herbaceous perennials still closed to the public, I decided to stop just short of it to take a look at something along the road that had always caught my eye.

Locals claim that the picturesque line of estate cottages at Freefolk comprise the longest continuous stretch of thatching in the country. Whether true or not, they're certainly make one of the most photogenic scenes in the local area.

And locals know it. They've even multiplied their charm by insisting on matching thatched bus stops out front.

Follow the brown sign to the Church of St. Nicholas, up a little lane across the road, for another treat. The old vicarage here is now a multi-million pound manor house beside the Test; the stuff lottery dreams are made of. 

Tucked into the south flank of the property is the tiny, ancient church. Its foundations date from the 13th century but the exterior you see today is thanks to some remodelling at the time of William and Mary (early 1700s).

The interior has a peaceful simplicity

but also reminds you of the layers of history that build up in a place like this. Recent work has uncovered some early wall paintings of St. Christopher, probably whitewashed during the reformation.

The most spectacular thing here, however, and delightful surprise in such a simple place, is the ornate tomb of Richard Paulet, son of the 2nd Marquess of Winchester. 

After seeing the relatively simple family tombs in the church at the family seat in Old Basing, it was a surprise to find one of them lying in such isolated splendour. 

A signboard outside reveals that there's a county-maintained trail linking 5 different mills along the Test, running from the Bombay Distillery at the Laverstoke Mill to the Silk Mill at Whitchurch. 

Following it a short way from St. Nicholas' (where there's free parking just across the lane) takes you down to the main road, past the thatched estate cottages and into a riverside woodland so magical it reminded me of the famous moss-garden we visited in Japan. (Sadly the light at the time didn't allow me to get any decent pictures of it.)

Beyond that, a bridge crosses the test offering magnificent views, and just a few steps further on a cement weir that offers you a place to sit beside the river.

The same geography that makes North Hampshire's rivers clean, swift-flowing and exquisitely beautiful also makes them rare, ecologically fragile and home to prized brown trout. This means that most of the riverbanks are fenced off on inaccessible private land, jealously guarded for their fishing rights and zealously protected from polluters. This is one of the few places I've found where you could sit quietly beside the water, and I plan to be back. Next time, it will be with a picnic hamper, a chair and a watercolour set. 

I suspect not much has changed here since Jane Austen's day ... and I'd guess that's just the way the locals like it. I certainly do.

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. 

Sherfield-on-Loddon retains its village charm despite shadow of Basingstoke's hyper growth

Anyone who's read the last article and knows where I live may be calling my a hypocrite. 

Our house, though Georgian in its inspiration, sprang from historic farmland in 2012. No matter how
beautifully designed or carefully landscaped, our neighbourhood could be a proof point in the over-expansion of Basingstoke that I just bemoaned. Even though the modern incomers are more likely to be seeking escape from London's crazy housing prices than its grinding poverty, the village of Sherfield-on-Loddon still objected strenuously in 2004 when bulldozers prepared to replace ploughs on Taylor's Farm.

These days the re-christened "Sherfield Park" has more people (about 2,000) than the village it lies beside. The people of Sherfield-on-Loddon have grown accustomed to us, and no doubt appreciate the income flowing in to local services. What other village of 1,500 people do you know that can support three pubs?

In the heart of the village you'll find the White Hart (above) and the Four Horseshoes (below). 

Across the busy road to Reading (the A33) is the Longbridge Mill. Though architecturally the most interesting, housed in a rambling and well-preserved Georgian mill complex, it's actually the one with the least character given its chain pub, "family-friendly" atmosphere. 

The Horseshoes is the only pub I know to retain its original "skittle alley", while the Hart is probably winning the stakes at the moment on the culinary front. This can change every time someone gets or loses a chef, of course. The Horseshoes made a past appearance here as a proper gastropub celebrating local provenance; these days they do Thai take-away. 

The trio forms a picturesque architectural centrepiece of a village six miles northwest of Basingstoke. For most residents these days it's a quick hop into town for shopping or the train station, but for much of the village's long history residents' lives would have been anchored here, with only the occasional trip to sell produce at Basingstoke's weekly market or interact with local magistrates. 

For most of its long history, it would have been a farming village benefiting from the rich clay soils next to the exquisitely pretty river Loddon. They no doubt would have enjoyed its trout, too ... though these days fishing rights are fiercely protected and access is limited.

The village's houses would have been scattered around a series of fields held in common for grazing. Though most of Sherfield-on-Loddon's housing these days was is less than 100 years old, the thatched cottage below gives an idea of how most of the village might have looked in 1838 when the Duke of Wellington bought the "lord of the manor" title to go with his new estate just up the road at Stratfield Saye. (Check out an earlier piece on Stratfield Saye here.)

Some of that old communal green space is now two picturesque duck ponds.

Some has been set aside for recreational space ... there's a cricket pitch and tennis courts. And some remains a slightly wild green area for rambling. Though the only grazing animals you're likely to meet are these friendly wild boar.

Another striking feature of the Sherfield-on-Loddon is its Victorian village hall.

Up through Victorian times, there were probably only 40 homes scattered around all this green space. Things changed in 1917 when the Ministry of Defence purchased land next to the village for an enormous ordnance depot. It boosted employment possibilities and numbers in the village. 

The most visible sign of WWI, however, is the inevitable war memorial. It wasn't until I really started paying attention to these memorials in every village, looking at the number of names and thinking about the percentage of population that they probably represented, that I truly understood why that war still looms so large in British memory.

Here are some of more charming village houses.

And though modern developments (like mine) are eating up the farm fields surrounding the village, you can still get lost down leafy back lanes and discover scenes like these:

Sherfield-on-Loddon has its share of grand houses, too. The showiest is Buckfield, a grand Victorian mansion sitting on Medieval foundations. It became a school after WW2.

More my style is the Georgian Sherfield Court, still in private hands and sitting next to the parish church.

The parish church of St. Leonards is unusual in being a mile outside of the main village, rather than at its centre. It's a lovely Victorian building with Medieval roots.

We were house hunting in the village proper before settling in Sherfield Park, but the real irony of Basingstoke's hyper-growth is that historic properties ... and let's call that anything before WW2 ... have become highly desirable and go for a premium. Most of the housing on the market is from the '70s through the early part of this century, lacking character and reaching the age where things need to be replaced. Our best option was to buy new, in a place inspired by the old. At least in our corner of the county, we can rest assured that local councils and residents alike are fighting to maintain the charm we've managed to retain.