Chawton celebrates literary women far beyond its Austen connections

I am always delighted by bits of English heritage that are thriving thanks to the money and passions of Americans. Many of these rescue stories are well known: Blenheim Palace, Hidecote Manor Gardens and Hever Castle are just the tip of an enormous iceberg. Little did I realise that Chawton House, in my own neighbourhood, is another member of the American club.

If you’re judging on the usual stately home standards of architectural grandeur or museum-quality contents, Chawton is little known and insignificant . Amongst one group, however, it’s vastly important. Serious Jane Austen fans, aka “Janeites” will know of it as the home of Jane’s brother, Edward, whose generousity gave her the time and space to write her novels. While the Austen link is important, it’s the house’s role as an advocate for and repository of the works of literary women from the Tudor through Georgian periods that makes it truly unique these days. Chawton’s survival as a heritage attraction open to visitors, and its broader literary endeavours, are due to California-born Sandy Lerner.

Lerner was a co-founder of Cisco Systems and, in classic Silicon Valley style, graduated from IT exec to investor and benefactor. With degrees in international relations and economics before she embraced computing, Lerner was more of a Renaissance being than your typical IT boffin, displayed in her subsequent involvement in animal welfare, historic home renovation and the founding of Urban Decay cosmetics. Most salient to the Chawton story, however, is Lerner’s fascination with early female writers, many of whom produced popular works in their lifetimes but were forgotten in male-curated history. When Chawton's owners in the early 1990s decided they could no longer maintain the house, Lerner’s literary passions and love of Jane Austen made her the perfect buyer. She didn’t just spearhead the restoration of a building in tenuous shape, she established a Centre for the Study of Early Women’s Writing (1600-1830) and donated a significant, and probably unique, collection of books by those oft-neglected writers. Though Lerner is no longer actively involved in running the place, her spirit lives on.

As someone who’s spent her whole working life in the IT industry, I can assure you that female executives are rare beasts, and senior leaders interested in history and the arts rank with dragons and hippogriffs. The Chawton story filled me with joy. More practically, so did the experience of visiting the house. 

It’s not a large place, but full of charm. Not an aristocratic residence, but the kind of small estate over which you’d find Austen characters like Mr. Knightly or Colonel Brandon presiding. Unsurprising; Jane spent a great deal of time here and it would have been a natural model. It’s a venerable, grey stone pile with two pronounced gables and a generally Jacobean appearance, though its roots are Elizabethan and the Victorians added bits. It sits three quarters of the way up a hill, woods to its back and a verdant valley at its feet, with thatch-heavy, hugely picturesque Chawton village just a 10-minute walk.

Inside, there’s a procession of pretty, panelled rooms, some hugely atmospheric hallways and all the split levels and strange corners you’d expect of a place that’s been added to bit by bit over more than 400 years without ever seeing a comprehensive makeover in any one style. Most magical, no doubt because I was already in a literary frame of mind and the house is, functionally, a giant library, were the many nooks that seemed perfect for reading or writing. The most obvious spot was labelled as the alcove that had once been Jane’s favourite, but there were armchairs in front of fires or on small landings, benches in sunlight-filled hallways and a cozy little room with a writing desk in it that invited paper-based recreation. 

Other items of interest on permanent display in the house include family portraits … a fascinating clan full of interesting women ... a striking 17th century staircase, a detailed map of early Georgian London on an enormous folding screen, armourial glass in windows and period costumes. Entering the library, tucked behind the gift shop, is by request and worth doing to see shelves packed with historic tomes you've probably never heard of. Here was the only disappointment of touring Chawton. Quite understandably, you have to be supervised by a staff member when you're looking at this precious collection, and unless you're a registered academic who's made a request in advance you can't take anything down to read. If you love books, it's like walking into a lavish bakery when you're on Weight Watchers.

The shop can assuage that unfulfilled hunger; it's a small but beautifully curated selection of books, literary-themed gifts and country house-influenced homeware. 

Upstairs, two rooms serve as galleries for temporary exhibitions, mostly drawn from the books in the library. There's none of the fancy set design, lighting and projection I recently wrote about in my article on the Museum of Danish Resistance, but there’s still a strong effort here at storytelling … even if what you’re looking at is mostly books and documents. The current exhibition is Trailblazers: Women travel writers and the exchange of knowledge. Obviously, a topic near and dear to my heart.

None of these early women set out to earn money off the descriptions of their journeys. Most travelled for other reasons, from their husbands' jobs to escapism to enjoying the same grand tours as their brothers. Many had outrageous adventures beyond the imaginations of modern professionals: imprisonment, shipwreck, death of the travelling companion who was their reason for travel, revolution. Unsurprisingly, their adventures made for some fabulous literature, much of it sadly no longer in print. 

We meet Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, who accompanied her ambassador husband to the Ottoman court, and amongst other wonders wrote about successful vaccinations 75 years before Jenner “invented” the smallpox vaccine in England. Hester Stanhope, niece and hostess to Prime Minister William Pitt the Younger, went travelling across the Eastern Mediterranean, became an early archeologist, went native and never came home. Maria Graham accompanied her naval officer husband around the world, started writing about her travels and eventually earned her living from writing after her husband died. 

These are just a few of the fascinating heroines you get to meet. On display are their notes and published books, plus ephemera like 19th century grand tourists’ calling cards, historic passports and letters of transit (ones from the Ottoman Empire are spectacularly beautiful), sketches and watercolours. Curators add a bit of fun with a “passport” you can pick up at the start and “stamp” with different locations as you learn about each of the women in the spotlight. The exhibition continues until 26 February.

Chawton has a surprising number of special events given its humble size, including upcoming lectures on the exhibition, snowdrop walks and a Valentine's Day dinner in its old kitchen, all listed on its website. General admission is free for Historic Houses Association members. An adult day ticket is £12.

Related stories:

- Chawton Cottage is amongst the sites I mention in my roundup of North Hampshire highlights

-A "Hawk Walk" in Chawton House grounds is the perfect gift for someone who needs nothing

-Jane Austen sites make for a grown up hen do

-A walk around Steventon and its lush environs

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.