In Pursuit of Miss Austen

To reinterpret, and devastatingly mangle, one of the greatest lines in English literature - "It is a truth universally acknowledged that Wessex_Reiver in possession of a good day off, must be in want of a visit to Hungerford". As so it was last Sunday when I found myself in that lovely Berkshire town surrounded by people dressed in Regency costumes. I, it has to be made known, was not similarly attired.

A week earlier I had found myself idly scrolling through social media. Time occasionally hangs heavy on the newly retired, thus with the devil making idle hands do work, the temptation to regularly check emails, Instagram or Facebook remains all too Luciferian. However while doing so I stumbled across an advertised event namely a Regency Canal Cruise to Kintbury. I read on. We'd join a group for a leisurely cruise down the Kennet & Avon canal to meet the author of Godmersham Park and Miss Austen, Gill Hornby, at her home, inclusive of a cream tea, a snip at £35 each.

Aside from the Regency era being of interest, strictly speaking I'm interested in 1750-1850, I had very much enjoyed the Miss Austen series on television earlier in the year. I almost booked this cruise there and then but something niggled in me, was this a mandatory costumed event? It is a costume I lack. Contacting the organiser I'd heard nothing until two days before the cruise, it transpired he had replied earlier but that had lain in his draft email. James's reply confirmed there were still a couple of places and after a flurry of emails over Friday afternoon we were booked on the cruise. It would turn out to be a long day, unforgettable though.

Our coffee and cake companions - image from James

The owner of the Tutti Pole cafe (in blue) and James. Image from the Tutti Pole.

I caught up with the thirty people on the cruise at the Tutti Pole cafe in Hungerford. Despite not knowing anyone, or indeed not being dressed for the occasion, Mrs Wessex Reiver and I were welcomed with open arms, or should that be open bonnets? Not everyone was in period clothing which calmed my fears immediately. Those who were looked fantastic. Mainly women it has to be said but the four men looked striking. It seemed most of the people knew each other from Regency dancing events which, as I was to discover, are a big thing these days.  Introductory coffee and cake over we had an hour free before meeting by the Rose of Hungerford canal boat for a picnic.

It was fairly surreal to be sitting with so many people in period costume and then looking around at the trappings of the 21st Century, not least mobile phones held in hidden pockets in their muslin dresses. But they were a lovely set of new friends, very interested in how we'd arrived at this event so late, many had booked it weeks ago. Picnic over we were asked to board the boat for the two hour cruise to Kintbury.

I got to know the Kennet & Avon canal reasonably well a few years ago specifically around the Crofton section which was only a short walk from Mrs Wessex Reiver's then home. It is a lovely part of the world and it was lovely to come back to explore it. This time on the canal itself as in all the years walking the towpath we'd never been on a boat.

After three locks and what seemed to take no time at all, Gill's home, the Old Rectory, hovered into view on the southern bank, where we could see Gill waving to us from her garden gate. We'd made good time. Now for the main part of the day. Which did not disappoint.

Gill could not have been more hospitable, talked through what it meant to be living here in the grounds Jane and Cassandra Austen knew - though not the house. The rectory they knew was demolished and replaced with the current one in 1860. Having moved here Gill's interest in Jane Austen had increased she told us, and she kindly let us see a painting of the house as it would have been when the Austen sisters visited. This painting and another which I saw later were found in the church adjacent to the garden only recently and had been restored.

After more information and a lengthy questions and answer session Gill kindly agreed to sign books for those who had them and pose for photographs in her garden. This included me who having bought her latest Austen novel - The Elopement - only in the morning, asked her to sign and date it, which she did. A permanent reminder of meeting her, exploring her garden and a wonderful day, further captured with a group image of the costumed attendees.

We were not finished just yet. A very short walk brought us to St. Mary's church where a group of volunteers explained more about the church, told us about the Rev. Fowle and the village of Kintbury during the Austens' time. We could have spent longer at Kintbury but all too soon the need to return forced us to head back to the canal and a long anticipated cream tea.

image from James

All too soon we returned to modern life, arriving back at Hungerford just before 8pm. What a wonderful day. It gave me so much to think about: meeting new (and friendly) people who had such a wonderfully open and positive outlook on their passion, also being back in that area, which for Mrs Wessex Reiver is home, and idly wondering whether I could ever wear a frock coat and formal hat in public. It intrigued me as in all the years I've read around Regency England I've never thought of costumed re-enactment. I was to discover there are groups all over England, not just dancing but Napoleonic battle groups, parades, costumed presence at shows and special events, in fact it seems,

"It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good costume, must be in want of a dancing partner".

Lyscombe Nature Reserve : Embryo Project Idea

 "I think we should return to the car, that looks seriously wet"

Those words passed my lips less than a minute after leaving the car. We, that is Mrs Wessex Reiver and myself, had travelled down to visit a Dorset Wildlife Trust site which had been newly added to its portfolio, Lyscombe, around ten miles north east of Dorchester.

May 2025 : The Chapel

I first visited this site in May on a very hot and surprisingly windy day. On that occasion I had left my OS map at home and naively relied on the satellite navigation on my phone. Betty, as I call the disconnected voice who normally aides my wanderings so beautifully, fell silent on that day when the mobile connection helpfully disconnected about five miles out. Despite being in Southern England this is a remote location, and after a number of fruitless wanderings and about turns along narrow lanes near the hamlet of Plush, lanes admittedly offering breath-taking views over huge fields in this rolling chalk and flint landscape, I finally found the small car-park and set off in blistering heat along what it turned out was the wrong track. Actually it was the right track but not for the direction I wished to walk up to the ridge of the horse-shoe of Lyscombe Hill. That first walk found me descending into the valley floor (Lyscombe Bottom) and exploring the ancient chapel there. It felt remote, a silent untouched landscape, one I instantly fell in love with. I was less enamoured by the searing heat and I decided to return and explore the 'horse shoe bowl' when the weather was less intense. 

An enormous field at the start of the walk

It has been a hot and dry year so far, the driest spring for a century or more, drought restrictions littering England, soil so dry the cracks are large enough to push a boiled egg into, if that was ever an meteorological option. The landscape has looked parched and weary for weeks. Imagine then our surprise at the squally rain barreling in from the west to greet our arrival. Welcome for the countryside yes, but a shock to the system now acclimatised to dry weather as the norm.  It was much too warm for waterproofs. Scuttling back to the car we sat watching the landscape disappear behind an opaque wash of the rainfall's brushstroke. It will just be a high temperature shower, it will pass quickly. Half an hour later we set off once more. This time up the correct track and with my OS map.

The footpath we missed

A enormous field on our left offered fantastic unobscured views over to Hardy's Monument way distant on the horizon. The farmer was urgently bringing in baled straw before more rain fell. With that rain the landscape was cooled, subdued, lank, and with harvest well under way it felt more autumnal than July. 

Fifteen minutes steady uphill plodding brought us to what would be our defined mistake. 

On the OS map the footpath is shown gently curving past a building. On the ground the farm track split, left through a disused piggery, right toward what looked (through my binoculars) like a locked gate. We went left, through opened gates and traversed the side of the deserted piggery and joined a meters wide conservation margin alongside a field of beans. This conservation strip was very wet after the rain but alive with butterflies, mostly meadow brown and 'whites'. There was a footpath of sorts, but to be honest just the faintest hint of passing feet through the long grass. The views were stunning but something did not feel right. Maybe it is just because this a new reserve, there was no one around, it is an empty remote spot.  Doggedly we plodded on.

The wide field margin on the wrong path

The rain returned when we'd almost reached the top of the hill, luckily we were by some trees allowing us modest shelter. To our left the views were stunning across rolling farmland. To our right the horseshoe of Lyscombe curved away like a scimitar. Between Lyscombe and us sat proud as punch a brand new metal mesh fence complete with barbed wire on top. The rain eased, but something did not feel right. Doggedly we plodded on. 

I could see where I thought we should be on the OS map, but this small woodland was in the wrong place. Let me rephrase that, the woodland knew exactly where it was, I didn't. Reaching another barbed wire fence blocking our route I knew somewhere, somehow, on the thirty minute trudge up the hill we'd missed a footpath leading off that long farm track. I don't think we were the first visitors to have made that error either as just along the barbed wire fence hands unseen had cut the middle two strands of barbed wire and bent them back. We scrambled through, there was a footpath sign but I knew we were on the wrong path. 

Nothing for it, we retraced our steps back down the hill for ten minutes to the aforementioned metal mesh fence by the wood. Could we climb over it? Neither of us are good at climbing fences and while that thought came into my head a couple walked by on the opposite side, the only people we saw that day. 

Explaining our predicament the lady said "Yes, we are on the footpath up to the view point - there is a footpath by the piggery, it veers off to the right next to a padlocked gate". We'd missed it, I'd seen the locked gate so we walked on via the left-hand track. To add to our despair she added "there used to be a gate where you are standing before this metal mesh fence was put up" before adding cheerily, but with a hint of why are they over there? "there's a lovely bench up the hill if you can ever get back over onto this footpath".

We thanked them and left them to their leisurely walk back downhill to presumably a warm drink and cake in the car. Dejected we took walked downhill on the opposite, the wrong, side of the fence. Moisture from the wet grass began invading our boots, Mrs Wessex Reiver hobbling due to a previous injury (I'd stood on her foot as we'd scrambled through the barbed wire fence), the metal mesh fence, happily excluding us from our destination, our constant companion. Tensions were high, enthusiasm low.

However half way down the hill as my dejection mounted, I noticed a gate on the other side of a hedge. It was open. Miraculously the mesh fence had also ended. Could we get through the hedge maybe? Yes, a bit of a squeeze but we were through. Our spirits lifted, finally after nearly an hour we were on the right footpath.

The correct footpath up the hill

And what a difference. Much as we'd enjoyed the bean field this was more what I'd thought the walk would offer us, up a grassy ridge, trees, wildlife and far reaching views down into the valley below. We were now on our own, almost. There were butterflies everywhere, mostly meadow brown, hundreds of them, a few gatekeeper, speckled wood and large white, unidentified day flying moths too. Dragonflies zoomed erratically overhead and at our feet the grass shimmered with the explosive movement of crickets and grasshoppers jumping hither and yon. Not much birdlife other than a jay letting us know of its disapproval, but it is July, the silent season. That did not matter, we were in heaven.

Not quite there yet....

... but what a view.

We'd reached (almost) the top of the ridge, the OS map showing a nearby trig point of 244 meters, around 800 feet in old money. New metal access gates delineated a meeting of footpaths, the fingerpost showing Thorncombe, Folly, Higher Melcombe. I wandered through and looked at the view north towards the Blackmoor Vale, an area I know so well. In the mid distance the evocatively named Ball Hill, did they play cricket on that slope I wondered? To my right Nettlecombe Tout itself hiding from sight a landmark known as Dorset Gap. We'd made it, well almost. Another ten minutes walk was required before the now infamous bench loomed out the tall grass like a monument to the weary traveller. And what a wonderful bench offering a stunning view looking south across Lyscombe Bottom and on to the Dorset coastline and Purbeck, well worth the hour and a half walking to get here. We sat here for fifteen minutes in total natural silence. What a place.

We made it...

Purchased in 2024 Lyscombe is a new reserve for the Dorset Wildlife Trust and at 335 hectares one of the largest purchases it has ever made. But I'm so glad they did (and erected the bench). Wildlife wise it is already wonderful but much more can be done. Dorset Wildlife Trust are doing an exceptional thing, by doing almost nothing. Of course management is happening. By reducing grazing and managing the reserve primarily for wildlife slowly the farmed landscape will become a natural habitat for many more species. Current management thinking is to do nothing too dramatic just give the wildlife a chance to return under its own steam now the pressure of farming for profit is released. And I applaud that soft touch approach, reading later that barn owls have already returned on their own wing as it were. 

It's given me an idea too. I've been a member of the DWT for many years but mainly (due to work commitments) I've only visited a handful of their 42 nature reserves and 4 wildlife centres. Now I am retired, time hangs on me like an eager puppy wanting to be outside again. This visit, and while walking for two and a half hours and around five miles in total, gave me time to think about a new project. Over the next few years could I visit all 42 reserves and 4 wildlife centres? I'll not set a timescale, mainly as Mrs Wessex Reiver has her own hatching plans, which I'm reliably informed I'm included in, walking long distance routes. Maybe then I'll count this visit to Lyscombe as the first and at the moment half finished of these 42 visits. It is a big reserve and I've areas yet to explore, so I will definitely return.

Though maybe a refresher in map reading would be advisable first.