A return to the Chalke Valley History Festival is even better than the delight of last year's discovery

Early in 1986 I made a fateful call home from my last year at university. “I want to stay in school and get my masters’ degree in English history,” I confidently proclaimed.

My mother’s groan carried an almost physical pain. “No. Never. You can’t.” exclaimed the art historian and art teacher. “As if journalism weren’t bad enough. Now you’re going to end up a history teacher. Make England your hobby, and get a job that will actually pay you a decent wage.”

She had a point. Her income at the time, after two decades of teaching, was roughly half of my university tuition fees per year. (Thank God for Northwestern’s need-blind admissions policies and the generous alumni who donated the money that covered my costs.) It was hard to imagine living a comfortable life on a history degree, much less earning enough to do all the travel in Europe I so hungered after. So I followed mum’s plea and put my nose on the corporate grindstone.

I rarely look back and question whether that was the right choice. But this weekend, after two glorious days at the Chalke Valley History Festival surrounded by happy, entertaining, fascinating people who make their living from history, I do have to wonder. Could I have beaten the odds? Instead of ending up a cash-strapped teacher in St. Louis, might I have been taking centre stage at places like this? Could I have been prosperous in an ecosystem of history-as-entertainment that neither my mother nor I could have imagined in the ‘80s?

I’ll never know, but the Chalke Valley History Festival is pretty close to that 18-year-old caller’s idea of heaven. My husband and I discovered it last summer (you can read my initial report here) and loved it so much we vowed to come back for a whole weekend. This time with friends.

Historical re-enactments have long been a staple of English summer entertainment. There have been famous literary festivals for decades. The calendar is awash with music festivals. The genius of Chalke Valley is combining them all into one event to celebrate all eras of history, for people who love the topic. Talks take place simultaneously on four main stages, augmented by performances, demonstrations and tableaux of living history. Though there were four of us, the variety makes it almost inevitable that groups split up. Upon entry, the boys were immediately diverted by the tents and tanks of the 20th century, while we girls did a recce of the whole show ground and settled in for the first jousting match of the weekend. Throughout the two days, I veered towards women’s and cultural history while my husband concentrated on World War 2. We came together only for Michael Wood’s fabulous talk on The True Story of the Trojan War, in which he explained how modern research has brought understanding along since the BBC series that first made his name as a popular historian almost 40 years ago. 

With last year's experience to give us a sense of how things worked, we were far better organised to take advantage of the fun. We'd kept an eye on the web site and jumped into the agenda as soon as it was released, booking tickets early for the sessions we wanted. (The Festival requires separate tickets with an additional fee for lectures in the two main venues. Though the prices ... usually about £5 ... are not a big deal, you can rack up quite a bill over a two day visit if you're keen on a lot of topics, and the booking system is a bit onerous.) Upon arrival, with pens in hand, we'd grabbed the agenda for each day and stepped aside to circle the stuff each individual wanted to do. Then we planned meeting points throughout the day where we could connect after having separated. This is critical, as the long, deep valley has almost no connectivity. Forget messaging each other; you have to go old school here. Given you're surrounded by people who look like they just tumbled out of a time machine, the lack of electronic communications is fitting.

My highlights were a talk by novelist Kate Mosse about forgotten women in history; Leandra de Lisle with a re-evalution of the oft-maligned queen Henrietta Maria; a panel discussion on best and worst monarchs with de Lisle, actor and writer Charlie Higson, Private Eye editor Ian Hislop and personal favourite Tom Holland (the historian, not spider man); and a talk on how living history has moved on our understanding of jousting from a modern-day knight in a full, gleaming suit of armour. "Sir" Tobias Capwell was probably the one most responsible for getting me thinking about my safe career choices. Another American who's lived in the UK for most of his career but hasn't lost his style or his cheerful informality, Capwell fell in love with his era of history in museums as a child but kept true to his passions, pursuing both an academic career and jousting on a small but dedicated professional circuit. His tales of how his experiences in the joust helped him to solve mysteries that neither the written record or historic arms and armour could were fascinating, and his career sounds like a long exercise in the pursuit of joy. Following him from the conference stage to the tiltyard, where he swung up onto his horse and rode into action, cascaded more than a bit of the happiness to us.

Mosse's work was possibly the most important, however. Triggered by discovering that her great grandmother, known to the family to have written a bit, had actually been a famous novelist in her time but was forgotten to history in just a few generations, Mosse started digging for similar stories. And ended up with a hefty book of them. This is not elevating bit players to roles beyond their achievements to achieve parity. Nor is it, she was quick to point out, about taking anything away from men. It's simply about restoring the forgotten to well-earned fame so we can all appreciate that men and women built our world together, hand in hand. Mosse is an engaging, dynamic speaker. I'd even call her a performer. Her tales had me laughing, groaning, and frequently crying. One of the joys of the festival is that you can roll out of sessions like this right into one of the on-site bookstores, where you can chat with authors and have them sign your books. My armload of Warrior Queens & Quiet Revolutionaries will make excellent Christmas presents. Given all the clever, powerful, wonderful women in my life, I may need to buy more before the holidays roll around.

An advantage of staying for two days was having the time to linger in the central food and drink area to enjoy the entertainment. On Saturday night we were treated to a trio who channeled the Andrews Sisters and delighted us with their big band sound. In their second set, after satisfying us with the traditional stuff, they rolled into a set of modern covers transposed into Glen Miller style. All about that bass, Careless whisper, and Material Girl with a new sound had us on our feet dancing. A diverse food court with everything from the usual curry, pizzas and burgers to Greek specialties, local lamb burgers and a game truck stayed open into the evening to offer dinner as well as lunch.

Activities for kids looked even bigger this year than last. The rope-and-pulley operated horse at Knight School had many an adult wishing they could grab a lance and try to hit some targets. The Royal Corps of Signals' tent was packed with kids learning to send secret messages with morse code, decipher puzzles and move through a maze blindfolded on the instructions of others. Up a hill in a bit of woodland, other packs of youngsters were going through a trench warfare experience, complete with artillery. I understand that taking youngsters out for a whole day into an environment with no mobile connectivity is a dangerous risk, and we saw a few surly teenagers. But on the whole this seemed a fabulous day out for children and teenagers, and we were a bit sad they were such a minority.

While cut out of the kids' experiences, I was having just as much fun at the Time Traveller's Kitchen, watching the preparation of 17th century dishes, or getting tips from the Roman Cutler about sharpening knives at home. If you needed a break from all the intellectual stimulation, the weather was gorgeous and the turf on the slopes above the festival ground spongy. Many an attendee climbed up for a view and then enjoyed a little nap in the sun.

I was surprised to see quite a noticeable turnover from the re-enactors' camps present last year. No Romans at all this year. No Vikings, but some new AngloSaxons. The medievalists were out in force, with several different groups from slightly different periods. The Regency camp was familiar, not just because my husband's interest in the Napoleonic wars and mine in Jane Austen means we chatted a fair deal with them last year, but we recognised them as the same people who turn up at the Highclere Battle Proms annually. I missed the late Stuart gang who did such a flashy day at the races with Charles II last year, but was delighted to find a troop of both French and English soldiers from the Seven Years' War in the Americas. Known as the French and Indian War there, this was a bit of history that took place on my home turf, and I had a jolly time talking to re-enactors about Fort de Chartres. That military facility looms large in the story of their chosen period, but I think I was the only one amongst them who'd ever been there and scrambled around the place. I do love the way these guys stay in character. "So, how's your occupation of my homeland going?" I asked one handsome redcoat. He grinned, swept off his tricorn, gave me a little bow and explained "Madam, we're there to protect you, and we're doing an excellent job."

I did not get organised enough to snag one of the few B&B rooms in walking distance, or even in nearby villages. (The Talbot Inn at Berwick St. John or The Pembroke Arms at Wilton are my targets for next year.)  Like a true festival, you can stay on site. But we are not camping people. And the glamping tents at more than £300 per night were more than I could stomach when you have to cross a field to use the loo. We instead drove 20 minutes back to the centre of Salisbury and stayed at the Mercure there. Not only did we have a comfortable night's sleep and convenient plumbing, but the fact that our first scheduled talk wasn't until mid-day on Sunday gave us a chance for a morning ramble around the town centre. The cathedral close is spectacularly beautiful. Discovering a small monthly art market on the main town square, however, serenaded by a duo turning out smooth jazz on saxophone and electric guitar, was the highlight of our little tour. Coffee at a local cafe overlooking the sophisticated scene set us up for another day dancing between time periods back in the Chalke Valley.

The four of us finished the weekend ready to sign up for next year, and friends hearing our tales of delight have already asked to join us. I realise most people can't fit yet another thing into their packed summer schedules, but this is one worth considering. Chalke Valley really delivers on that idea of "fun for all ages" by taking people through the ages. And the best part? It's all for a good cause. All profits go to fund scholarships for people to take higher degrees in history, or programmes to help teachers teach it better. Had things like this existed in the mid-'80s, maybe I would have followed my heart rather than my head.

We'll be heading to Wiltshire the 29th and 30th of June next year. Care to join us?

Chalke Valley is the Glastonbury of history; entertainment, education and chocolate dinosaurs

I bolted out of my bed an hour before a working day would see me rise, giddy with excitement to climb into the car and head west on the A303. We were off to a farm field transformed to a temporary town by a profusion of tents, stages and thousands of people. We’d spend the day drifting from one stage to another, listening to the delights we’d picked out from a packed programme.

No. I wasn’t off to Glastonbury. A lot of festivals grace England’s green and pleasant countryside. The one that sets me aquiver is the Chalke Valley History Festival.

Running since 2011, with the inevitable break for Covid, the festival is a mix of historical re-enactment societies, talks from historians, musical entertainment (heavy on folk and WWII) and old time carnival rides. It’s set in an exquisite valley, long and broad enough to hold thousands in a sprawling, 70-acre fairground but deep enough to screen out the rest of the world behind towering earthen walls undulating with green wheat. And the end of the valley, where hills rise on three sides to form a bowl, there’s a natural arena where battles, demonstrations and equine racing and manoeuvres are played out for the audience lounging on the hills. There’s a WWI trench experience cut into another hillside and a display of old steam vehicles sprawled across one of the slopes.

On the valley floor, main stages share room with the encampments of the various historical societies, a shopping area, historic carnival rides decked out in Edwardian glory and a happily modern court of food trucks. For the duration of your visit you’ve been transported to a place where Romans mix with Napoleonic troopers, Roundheads and Cavaliers share a drink under the pub marquee and medieval knights stand behind you in the queue for barbecue. Total strangers lose their English reserve to talk about what their reading, evaluate the mock battles and ponder the what ifs of history.  The almost complete black-out of network reception due to those enormous hills adds to the feeling you’ve left the real world behind.

Historical re-enactment societies and the cosplay around them are well established in England, with most groups having a full schedule of “camps” at various events through the summer where they strut their stuff. We run into Wellington’s troops regularly at the Highclere Battle Proms and the Sealed Knot re-enacting a major battle in our neighbouring village of Old Basing every year. For years, English Heritage brought all these groups together for an annual crossing of the timelines called The Festival of History, which morphed into History Live! Before they shut it down in 2015 to focus on smaller local events. We’d loved the English Heritage event, despite its Midlands location being a logistical challenge,  and had been searching for an alternative since its demise but hadn’t succeeded until this weekend. 

Chalke Valley has all the thrilling scope of the old English Heritage event but with an infusion of the Hay Literary Festival. It’s also, happily, just over an hour from our house, on the west side of Salisbury. Alongside the battle re-enactments and strolling through the re-enactors encampments, there’s a full schedule of lectures on four different stages, with many of them spotlighting authors of new books who sign copies in one of the two festival book shops after their events. James Holland, a historian who regularly pops up in the media, and James Heneage, founder and former CEO of Ottakar’s book stores, created the Festival. Dan Snow and his History Hit empire are now heavily involved (they own one of the four main stages). Thus it’s no surprise the festival pulls in some big names. Ian Hislop, Dan Jones, Niall Ferguson and Emma and Nicholas Soames were knocking about on our day. 

The literary festival approach adds a freshness that the English Heritage event lacked. However spectacular, it was pretty much exactly the same every year. At Chalke Valley, the lecture schedule means no two days, much less two years, will be the same. On the down side, it means there’s so much going on you can’t possibly do everything in one day. We had to make tough choices between competing activities (Talk Like a Viking or New Thinking on the Wars of the Roses?) and were so enthralled with the talks that we didn’t have time to take in anything in the arena. Nor could we linger long beside the excellent live music provided in the entertainment area.

The literary angle also requires more advance planning. While one general admission ticket (£16 on weekends) gets you into the fairground and two of the lecture stages, the two main stages require pre-booked £15 tickets for each talk. Big names sell out, so planning is essential. Children’s activities are also booked and paid in advance, so if you want to attend Sword School or the Trench Experience, you need to get your act together early. (We didn’t.)

If you love history as much as we do, the result of your pre-booking could be a very expensive day out, especially if you end up buying the books related to the lectures you attend. But all profits go to improving how history is taught in British schools, so it’s hard to imagine a better expenditure.

My favourite lecture of the day came from Ruth Scurr, whose new biography of Napoleon takes the unorthodox approach of looking at his life through the prism of the gardens he was associated with. The majority of Napoleonic literature focuses on big books by men about big battles, debating whether he was ultimately a hero or villain. Scurr’s approach looks much more at the man and his influence on science, nature and the arts. Piers’ pick was Samir Puri and Zareer Masani taking a fresh view of imperialism and empire. After years of the mainstream academic view being that it was all bad and Britain should beat itself up over the legacy, here are two authors with roots in Commonwealth countries bringing out reasons why it wasn’t all bad.  Later, we were both fascinated and horrified by Sarah Churchwell’s evaluation of modern America. I wasn’t expecting cheerfulness from The Wrath to Come: Gone With the Wind and the Lies America Tells, but the U.S. Supreme Court’s decision to overturn Roe v. Wade the day before changed the direction of discussion significantly. Like me, the author is an American who’s lived here more than 20 years, and her views of what’s going on in our homeland are grim. “The civil war has already started,” she asserted, pointing to mass shootings and urban violence. A large English audience, who were fascinated, perplexed and more than a bit scared, contributed to a lively Q&A.

Away from official lectures we found out more about recent archeological discoveries at Waterloo, got to try on medieval armour and were captivated by tales of Monmouth’s rebellion. I chatted about the impressive growth of HistoryHit with the company’s main podcast producer and managed to be in the right place at the right time for two showy ride-bys of lavishly costumed horses and riders. I was delighted with the intellectual twist that saw ice cream from the Jurassic Coast served with chocolate dinosaurs rather than the traditional Flake. I even got in a bit of archery, using a longbow for the first time and sinking half my arrows into the straw torso of a supine medieval knight.

I’d been looking for something like this since English Heritage pulled the plug on its festival. Though we’d tried a couple other options, nothing we'd found compares to this. I haven't packed this much childish delight into one day since my last time on Disney property.  

I do have a few hopes for improvement. Vikings, Anglo-Saxons and the American revolution are all societies I've seen at other events but were missing here. I'd love to see them add to the fun. And though the Ancient Romans were present, their numbers were much smaller than I've seen in the past. The shopping area has a long way to go. Given the history association and, one assumes, the above-average income of attendees, I was expecting a lot of hand-made, artsy stuff of the sort you find at high-end craft festivals, as well as historic or history-inspired clothing and hats. The handful of vendors on site were underwhelming. With the exception of the magnificent Waterstone's book tents. And that's about it. The day was pretty much perfect and I didn't want to leave.

Chalke Valley is Glastonbury for history lovers. After my inaugural visit I’m thinking that, like Glastonbury, you need to stay on site at least one night in order to get the full satisfaction. Unlike Glastonbury, this doesn’t involve bringing your own kit and pitching tents in the mud, but reserving one of the festival’s quite respectable-looking glamping tents. Which means you can stay into the evening for historic dinners, music and witnessing the illumination technology of campers through the ages. Who’s coming with me in 2023?