Chasing Romans
- Paul Timlett
- Apr 6
- 15 min read
The world has begun to feel like a crazy and dangerous place in the last few months so I decided I needed to get away from all the terrible news for a day and lose myself in one of my favourite locations in Wiltshire. My usual walking buddy was laid up so I made a spur of the moment decision and ventured out on my own. Much as I enjoy walking with other people I also love the solitude and tranquillity of walking alone for hours on end. I can go at my own pace (which is invariably dead slow) and go where I want, stopping frequently to take photographs or simply to stand and stare.
For this day of splendid isolation I returned to the Deverills, not so very far from the border with Dorset, in order to explore a couple of Open Access Areas that have tempted me for years and in particular to see if I could trace the line of a Roman road. So I parked up in my usual spot in a dirt layby in Kingston Deverill. My distinctive bright yellow (or is it green) car is becoming a regular feature there.
From the layby I headed north along the B3095 in the direction of Maiden Bradley for a couple of hundred metres before taking the lane to the right on the apex of the bend. This quiet lane wends its way beneath a canopy of trees for a few hundred metres where it ends at a ford across the River Wylye. Do not be tempted to drive through this ford – from personal experience I can tell you it is deeper than it looks. Here at Hidden Wiltshire we’ve written extensively about King Alfred and his connection with this area and we’ve written about this ford before (you will find links to earlier blogs below). But on this beautiful sunny early spring day I was not so interested in King Alfred but in his predecessors here, the Romans. As an aside one of our contributors Steve Dewey wrote a blog about the River Wylye in which he said that in the 1600s the river was called the Dever. According to Tom, who is behind the Allotment Fox YouTube channel, in old English “Defer” means by the water whilst “eal” means good highland. Hence we have Deverill today.
This was an important area for the Romans. High above the ford on Whitecliff Down is the site of a Roman temple. Further along the valley at Brixton Deverill is the site of a very substantial Roman villa which was found in the gardens of Bridgewalk House (the remains are completely covered over to preserve it). So it is no surprise that it is thought that the ford may have been the junction of two Roman roads – the Lead Road (No.45 using Margary’s system of Roman road numbering) which we’ve often written about and which passes through Great Ridge on its way from Old Sarum to Mendip, and the Poole to Bath Road (Margary no. 46). My ulterior motive for having a walk here was to see if I could see any evidence of Margary no.45 in the landscape whilst seeing what else this area could throw up.
It seems possible that the Lead Road would have passed from this ford up to Whitecliff Down on its way towards Frome and onwards to Mendip. There is still a restricted byway that runs diagonally across the slopes of Whitepits Down which passes close to the site of the Roman temple to the north west, and to the south east it points towards the ford. On the hills to the south east of Monkton Deverill the line of this Roman road is marked in places on the current (and historic) Ordnance Survey maps. The satellite view hints at marks in the landscape that could be an ancient route of some kind but equally it could just be trails left by the cattle that graze here so I wanted to see if anything was visible at ground level.
After crossing the ford by the wooden footbridge I climbed over the stile on my left and crossed the field to the valley road (the B3095 again). It’s a short walk of about 200 metres along the road to Monkton Deverill but you could make a lengthy detour to avoid it by ascending through the woods to King’s Hill then via the amazing strip lynchets to Monkton (I’ve written about this route before - see link below). But the road was quiet so that’s the way I went.
Soon I reached a fork in the road where Hindon Road begins its journey over Pen Hill Down towards the A350 (an old favourite of mine by bike). The OS map shows a church just off Hindon Road. I couldn’t remember visiting it before so I went to have a look. It’s reached by means of a very narrow footpath between bungalows, so narrow that my shoulders brushed the hedge on both sides. I quickly came to a small graveyard and behind a wall I could see that the church is now a private residence. This was once, appropriately enough, the Church of St. Alfred the Great of the West Saxon which dates to the 14th century and which was restored by our old friend T H Wyatt in 1845. My curiosity satisfied I returned to Hindon Road and continued along it out of the village eventually turning sharp left (by the point where the aforementioned detour from King’s Hill emerges) before coming to a sharp turn to the right.
On the outside of the bend are two metal field gates. I went through (or maybe it was over) the one on the left and immediately turned to my right to head steeply up hill on the left hand side of the fence line. When I reached the copse of young copper beech trees at the top I realised I should have been on the other side of the fence but the gate leading into that field at the bottom of the climb was broken. Since there is a pedestrian gate into the correct side of the fence line at the top of the hill by the trees all was good. Passing through another pedestrian gate in front of me I entered onto open hillside with ever unfolding views that were to accompany me for much of the rest of the day.
I followed what is a bridleway between two huge ploughed fields for just short of a kilometre towards Summerslade Down. Here there is a large field barn just before which there is a junction of rights of way. On the right, next to a metal field gate, was a stile which I climbed over into the Open Access Area to the left of the fence line that runs down the hill. There is actually a right of way across the field on the other side of the fence and outside the Open Access Area but it’s better to stay to the left of the fence and follow it all the way down to the bottom. Since this is Open Access land you can roam anywhere but I had my eye on a herd of cows on the hill above me to the left so I stayed by the fence. Where it turns right at the bottom there is a stile where the aforementioned footpath crosses the fence. I joined the line of the footpath over the valley bottom and steeply upwards once more to some hawthorns on the side of the hill. I decided to make this my coffee stop as the views across to Cold Kitchen Hill and beyond to Little Knoll and Long Knoll and a distant Alfred’s Tower were fantastic.
After a welcome break I continued up the hill where, over the brow, was another fence in front of me beyond which the map shows the line of the Roman road. However, I had something else to look at first. To my left was a long barrow on Pertwood Down which I have been meaning to visit for years. The cattle who shared the Open Access Area with me had moved off so I went to explore the barrow. I was taken aback at the size of this Neolthic feature, which dates from between 3400 and 2400 BC. I am not aware that it has been excavated. I paced it out at about 90 metres long and according to Historic England it is 1.8m high but when the ditch around it, from which the material it was constructed from was dug, is added it is much higher. This really is a monumental feature which appears to have survived well. Perhaps this is because of the myth of the singing barrows? Barrows were said to be ruled by a Faerie Queen and anyone caught interfering with the barrow would be carried away never to be seen again. The Faerie Queen was wicked and hated the sound of music which made the faerie folk sad. Their sighs sounded like wind and people learned to stay away from the barrows.
From the long barrow I retraced my steps following the nearby fence line all the way to the south western corner of the Open Access Area, passing a stile over the fence on the way. I wanted to get to the point where the OS map shows the start of the line of the Roman road and then follow it east for a few hundred metres to a small wood. The grass was long but a winding path had been mowed. I assume this was supposed to be the line of the road but to me it seemed not to be straight enough as it curved through the field for no good reason. I deviated from the marked right of way (a restricted byway here) to see if I could make out any features that would mark this as a Roman road but there were none that I could see through the long grass. There was no sign whatsoever of an agger.
On reaching the trees the right of way comes to an abrupt end. There was a stile over the fence into the wood so I climbed over but the undergrowth was so dense it was impossible to progress any further so I re-crossed the stile and followed the line of what was now a public footpath more or less due south. The right of way is crossed by another fence over which there is a stile. There was a sign on the fence saying “Cows and Calves in Field” and immediately on the other side preventing access was an electric fence blocking the public footpath. So I followed the fence line to my left until I reached the southern end of the wood where the electric fence ended, and just before the large barn in the picture below I went through a gate into the field where I could then see the cows and their calves. They were some distance away so I followed a farm track south along the valley bottom until I reached a point where another public footpath tracking east-west crossed it. I turned left and followed the path up the very steep slope until I reached a gate into the shelter belt of trees. I turned to admire the view one last time. There was a grand total of eight cows and their calves in the field which I estimated to be about 200 acres. I did wonder why the farmer had blocked off such a large field for them. Passing through the shelter belt another pedestrian gate gave access to another Open Access Area where I was once again free to roam.
Once in the Open Access Area I turned north and walked along the edge of the shelter belt until I reached the bottom of the slope. The map shows that this area was an ancient field system and sure enough the earthworks can be seen on the sides of the dry valley. I turned east again and followed the earthworks for a short distance to the point where the map shows that the Roman road should once again be visible.
The line of the road turns right here by a fenced off square of trees and heads up the valley bottom. The line of the road was distinct but I assumed this was more modern – again no sign of an agger. Disappointed I decided to head north up and across the Open Access Area where I could see a line of hawthorns on what looked like an earth bank. This looked like a good spot for lunch.
Whilst the A350 was ever present the strong wind meant that it was barely audible. I sat contentedly in the shade of a tree listening to the wind and the sound of the skylarks whilst watching kestrels hovering high above in search of prey. But the more I looked at my location the more I thought this looked like an enclosure of the sort used in the Iron Age to shelter animals. Yet nothing was shown on the map. I walked the length of the curving earthworks upon which the hawthorns were growing, more and more convinced I had discovered a previously unknown enclosure. Afterall there were several other features nearby including two round barrows and of course a Roman road. Eventually I left to continue my walk and it was only as I climbed the shallow slope northwards and looked back that I realised that this was far more likely to be a natural feature. My hopes were, I think, dashed! However, looking at a satellite view of the wider area a few days later there seemed to be a number of crop marks of a geometric pattern which could indicate something was going on here.
From my lunch stop I passed over the tumulus marked on the map but could not make out anything at ground level. I continued back towards the shelter belt (passing on the way an animal carcass next to which a camera trap had been set up) aiming for the gates that would take me back through the trees to the Open Access Area on the other side, the same field in which the long barrow sits. I followed the line of the fence round to my right and as I turned the corner of the scrub it protected I could once again see the large field barn by the track up from Monkton Deverill. Above this to the right standing in the middle of a ploughed field I could make out a stone circle. Since I’d been here before (see my blog entitled “A Different Take on the Deverills” linked below) I was not fooled and knew exactly what this was. It is a modern day stone circle erected in, I think, 1993 as part of a festival that took place on Summerslade Down. So you won’t find this on the Historic England website!
I could have continued all the way along the fence line back to the track that passes the barn but I couldn’t see a gate or stile to get onto the track. But there was a field gate on my right beyond which a farm track led through the scrub to join the track up from Monkton Deverill a couple of hundred metres further up the hill. So I climbed over the gate and used this track instead. It isn’t a right of way so it’s up to you to decide whether you want to do the same but the land owner seems to do a lot to aid access for walkers in the area so I figured he wouldn’t mind.
On reaching the Monkton Deverill track the right of way (a bridleway) continues dead ahead but the landowner asks that people use the permissive track to the right instead rather than walk across the ploughed field. The notice says that the bridleway remains open but his request to use the permissive track seemed reasonable enough although it’s important that we don’t lose access to the legal right of way through lack of use. Permissive paths require permission, which can always be withdrawn. Before leaving the junction I looked across to the stone circle which was much nearer now. I have been across to it before when the field was fallow but at the moment it is under crop so should be avoided. I took this photograph on my last visit.
As I wandered down the permissive track I kept my eye out to the right. Across one of the fields is another modern and much smaller stone circle but I couldn’t remember where. After a few hundred metres I saw it. The field it stands in is gated so I did not enter. I had been to this circle before when there was no gate but there isn’t much to see so I would recommend just admiring it from the track.
Eventually the fence on the left of the track takes a sharp left turn and another broad farm track takes you to the point where the legal right of way mentioned above emerges from the large field – a field that contains the stand of beech trees I visited on my last walk through here. The trees can now be seen above you across the field – a memorial to a long deceased farm worker. At this point I turned right and followed the bridleway all the way down to Brixton Deverill where it joins a narrow lane.
The lane passes the pretty little 13th century Church of St Michael the Archangel nestled in a perfect spot on the edge of the village. In early spring the churchyard was filled with daffodils and primroses. The original church here was Saxon, presumably a wooden structure, and it is recorded that King Alfred stopped here in 878AD to pray before travelling on to Ethandun to battle the Danes.
The last time I came here we were in the dark days of COVID and the church was locked. Happily this time it was open so I ventured in. The interior is beautifully simple. It is quite dark so I turned on the lights. A sign welcomed walkers and invited them to help themselves to drinks and biscuits! What a welcome change. I seem to recall that the font from this church was for some reason moved to Edington (modern day Ethandun) Priory and replaced by the font from the church at Imber. Perhaps it was because of the Alfred connection? I didn’t stay long in the church as this was turning into a long day but I need to revisit to see take a proper look at some of the riches within.
According to Britain Express the origins of Brixton Deverill are as follows:
“… the village was named for Brictric, a Saxon nobleman. According to the Chronicle of Tewkesbury, Brictric was serving as an ambassador in the Low Countries (modern Belgium and Holland) when he met Earl Baldwin and his daughter Matilda.
A match was proposed between Matilda and Britric, but he rejected the idea. Matilda then married William, Duke of Normandy, know to history as William the Conqueror. When William became king of England, Matilda urged him to imprison Brictric at Winchester.
The unfortunate Saxon noble died in prison, and having no heir, his estates were seized by the crown. Matilda then granted the property to the powerful Abbot of Bec, in Normandy.
After the Hundred Years War, the French abbey gradually lost its estates in England, and Brixton Deverill passed to Kings College, Cambridge in the 1440s. By that time the current church of St Michael was about 150 years old.”
But Brixton Deverill’s origins are much older than this. In 2015 the owner of Bridgewalk House was having cables laid in his garden when a worker unearthed what was later found to be a mosaic. This turned out to be the floor of a huge three storey Roman villa built between AD 175 and 220, believed to be one of the largest structures ever built in Roman Britain. The remains of the villa can no longer be seen having been covered over to preserve them, but fortunately the location can be seen from the footpath that takes us back to Kingston Deverill.
From the church continue along the lane until you reach the valley road (the B3095). Turn right along the road, cross the bridge over the Wylye, then take the next left up a farm track.
You will pass the entrance gate to Bridgewalk House and immediately after the drive to another house on the left there is a hedgerow where you will see a footpath sign on a wooden post. The very narrow footpath goes alongside the back garden of the house and soon the hedgerow ends and you appear to be in the garden – you are. So please respect the owner’s privacy and keep over to the right but as you do so if you look to the left you will see the field in which the remains of the villa sit in the garden of Bridgewalk House. Here you can imagine the scene as it must have looked 1,800 years ago. I took this photo during my last visit – there is now a hedge partially obscuring the view.
All that remains now is to follow this path for about 2.5 kms along the side of the valley back to Kingston Deverill, passing through several gates and past Whitecliff Farm as you go. The views south east across the valley over Monkton Deverill and back up to Summerslade Down are stunning, well worth another stop to sit and ponder if you are blessed with a warm sunny day as I was. Eventually the footpath tips you out onto the lane that leads you to the ford. From here I retraced my steps back to my car.
In total the walk is just over 11 kms or 7 miles. There are some stiff climbs but generally the going is good. The views are breathtaking throughout. I may not have found any evidence of the Roman road but as always on my walks the presence of man’s long history in the Wiltshire landscape was palpable.
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