Berkshire – Page 2 – Kintbury and Beyond

Kintbury’s Rev Fulwar Craven Fowle – Sheep farmer?

When anyone speaks of a priest’s ”flock” it might be presumed they are using a rather old-fashioned term for his or her congregation. However in the case of Kintbury’s Fulwar Craven Fowle (1764 -1840) his flock were actually sheep: the relatively new variety – at the time – of New Leicesters.

Sheep had been important to English agriculture for hundreds of years, primarily for their wool which was an important export as well as the material from which most clothing was made. Indeed the Lord Chancellor had sat on the “woolsack” – a symbol of the importance of wool to the economy, since the time of Edward III.

By the end of the eighteenth century, the industrial revolution had resulted in a rapid growth of towns and an increasing urban population needing to be fed. Improvements in farming helped meet the challenge and for some wealthier landowners able to experiment with stock breeding and crop growing, agriculture became a new science.

Robert Bakewell of Dishley in Leicestershire was one of the many farmers concerned with a more scientific approach to breeding. In 1760 he had produced a new variation of the traditional Leicester sheep, capable of an increased production of high quality fatty meat, popular at the time. Production of mutton was now of greater importance to the sheep farmer than production of wool.

During the Napoleonic Wars (1805 – 1815), it had not been possible to import Merino wool – used in the production of fine cloth -from Spain. So, partly due to an initiative by “Farmer” George III, Merino sheep were imported into England so that fine wool could be produced domestically.

Throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth century, the preferred method of keeping sheep was by “folding”. This method was particularly popular on poorer chalk soils such as on downland and involved keeping the sheep in relatively small pens constructed of hurdles. The folded sheep would be fed on root crops such as turnips which had been found to improve the condition of the ewes and the ultimate survival of lambs, particularly twins. As they ate, the sheep would also be fertilising the land – important in an age when more specialised fertilisers were as yet unavailable. The pens or “folds” would be moved along the downland at regular intervals, making this an effective way of fertilizing the soil but a very time consuming one.

By the early nineteenth century, more breeders were moving away from keeping sheep traditional to their particular area. Kintbury’s Rev Fulwar Craven Fowle was one such who chose the faster maturing New Leicester breed which he kept on his land at East Woodhay, just over the border in Hampshire.

In 1820, Rev Fowle was admitted to the Hampshire Agricultural Society, an association of the land owning classes which included the nephew of his friends Jane & Cassandra Austen: one Edward Knight junior Esq of Chawton House.

South Downs and Merinos were the breeds of sheep usually seen at the Hampshire show at this time. However, in June 1820, Rev Fowle exhibited a pen of Leicesters – the very first time this new breed had been seen there. According to the report in the Hampshire Chronicle, they “excited much attention” and were admired for their, “weight, symmetry, smallness of bone and lightness of offal.”

Rev Fowle was praised for his husbandry. The appearance of his animals, “reflected the highest credit on the management of Mr Fowle.”

Regarding feeding, “their actual state of maturity was attained without the assistance of either corn or cake, sliced Swedish turnips having constituted their sole food…”

This was a time when the potential weight of an animal counted more than most other features so it was decided to conduct an experiment comparing Fowle’s New Leicesters with Merino sheep belonging to Mr Simmonds of St Cross. Three three-year-old New Leicesters were to be kept and fed with three three-year-old Merinos and three two-year-olds of each breed were to be folded together.

When the results were compared the following year, the three- year- old Leicesters had shown a greater increase in weight than the Merinos although the two-year-old Merinos had shown the superior increase. A similar experiment concluding in 1822 showed the advantage to favour the New Leicesters.

Although Rev Fowle is praised for his husbandry, the reality was most likely that a shepherd in East Woodhay was the one responsible for the day-to-day care of the New Leicesters. As always, the working people who supported the upper and landed classes passed through history almost totally unrecorded, particularly in the years before census returns. So here’s to that unknown shepherd.

The working people, however, were not the ones able to instigate change even though it was their hard graft that saw it through. There are some well-known names from amongst the landed and upper classes who experimented and contributed to improvements in agriculture from the eighteenth century onwards. In this area, Jethro Tull (1674 – 1741 ) who farmed at Prosperous, near Hungerford is probably the best well-known. However, the contributions from the less well-known such as Rev Fowle, competing with their contemporaries in local agricultural societies, would also have played their part in the agricultural revolution.

Theresa Lock, June 2023

Sources:

Hampshire Chronicle, British Newspaper Archive (on line)

“On the sheep’s back” : The rise and fall of English Wool by Richard Martin. (cotswoldwoollenweavers.co.uk)

Jane Austen : Our Kintbury Connection

This story begins in the second half of the eighteenth century with the families of two West Berkshire priests.

In 1771, the Reverend Noyes Lloyd became vicar of Enborne, a small village to the west of Newbury in Berkshire. Noyes and his wife Martha had three daughters: Martha, Eliza and Mary, and a son Charles.

A few miles further to the west, in Kintbury, the Reverend Thomas Fowle the younger had been vicar since 1762. His wife, Jane, was the sister of Martha Lloyd over at Enborne. Thomas & Jane Fowle had four sons: Fulwar Craven, Thomas, William & Charles.

When Jane & Thomas Fowle were considering an education for their boys, they decided to send them to an establishment run by an old friend of Thomas’s from his university days. The friend was one George Austen who had opened up his vicarage home in Steventon as a school for boys.

This might seem to us a very odd thing to do but back in the eighteenth century it was not unusual. And so despite having seven children of their own living at home, the Austens welcomed even more young men to share their vicarage with them. What Mrs Austen thought of this is not recorded but it would seem that she was perfectly happy with the arrangement!

And so, Fulwar, Thomas, William & Charles Fowle were to spend some of their formative years in the home of the Austens and of course, they got to know the Austen children, including Jane & Cassandra, very well.

Jane herself was still quite little when the first of the Fowle brothers arrived at her home. To her it must have been something like having extra brothers in the house.

At this time, obtaining a degree from Oxford or Cambridge, and becoming ordained as a clergyman was considered a very solid, respectable career path. Fulwar Craven Fowle went on to obtain a degree from Oxford then followed his father into the church and eventually became vicar of Kintbury in 1798. By this time he had married his cousin from Enborne, Eliza Lloyd, daughter of the Rev Noyes Lloyd. Jane Austen’s brother James – a good friend of Fulwar – was at the wedding and this is very likely the first time he would have met the Lloyd family.

However, Eliza’s sisters were soon to become very close friends with Jane and Cassandra. When the Rev Noyes Lloyd died, his widow and her two unmarried daughter, Martha & Mary, left Enborne rectory to live in the parsonage at Dean, very close to the Austen family home at Steventon. And so began the very close friendship between Jane & Cassandra with Martha & Mary Lloyd.

We know from Jane’s letters that the Austen family maintained their close friendship with the Fowles at Kintbury. Several Austens – father George, the brothers, Jane & Cassandra themselves – sometimes stayed at the vicarage in Kintbury.

In 1792 Cassandra Austen became engaged to Thomas Fowle,- that is to say, Thomas Fowle III, the second son of Thomas Fowle junior and his wife, Jane. By now, Tom Fowle is an ordained minister himself, although too poor to marry. In 1796 he accepted a position as chaplain on a voyage to the West Indies but tragically died on the voyage. It was months before Cassandra – or indeed the Fowle family -received the news of his death. It must have been a very difficult time for both the Fowle family and the Austens. However, it seems as if the mutual loss only served to strengthen the relationship between Cassandra and the Fowles and she seems to have become almost a member of their extended family staying often at Kintbury.

Then, in 1797, Mary Lloyd – daughter of Noyes Lloyd of Enborne and sister to Eliza in Kintbury – married Jane Austen’s brother, James who had been widowed in 1795. Martha Lloyd continued to live with her mother at Dean but on Mrs Lloyd’s death in 1806, she moved in with the Austens and stayed with them as they moved from Southampton to Bath and finally Chawton.

I think this tells us a lot about the position of women at this time. Martha Lloyd of Enborne could claim aristocratic ancestry – indeed, her grandfather was the Honorable Charles Craven sometime governor of Carolina. Her grandmother, the former Elizabeth Staples was the second wife of Jemmet Raymond and a bust of her likeness can be seen on the very elaborate Scheemakers tomb in Kintbury church – a monument which, when it was new, was extremely expensive and would have said much about the wealth and status of those it commemorated. Yet, on the death of both her parents, Martha – as yet unmarried – does not have her own household. Until 1828 when she became Francis Austen’s second wife, she shared the home of Jane & Cassandra Austen.

If you visit Jane Austen’s house in Chawton today, you will see that Martha Lloyd was her very close friend and companion. Jane’s letters reflect the close and supportive relationship between Martha, her sister & brother-in-law at Kintbury and Cassandra and herself. Although Cassandra Austen destroyed many of her sister’s letters after Jane’s death, many of those existing are written to Cassandra while she is staying at Kintbury. In them we read of visits to Fulwar & Eliza, news of their children, the receipt of a basket of apples in return for one of fish and even a request for Charles Fowle to purchase Jane some silk stockings. Martha’s new maid, we learn, is the niece of someone from Kintbury.

And so it is that Jane’s connections with Kintbury are so much more than Cassandra’s fateful relationship with Tom Fowle. The Fowle family of Kintbury and their cousins the Lloyds of Enborne were all part of the Austens’ extended family circle and emotional support. Kintbury meant something to Jane Austen.

There are just two existing descriptions of Jane, by those who knew her. One is from her nephew James Edward Austen Leigh but the other is from our own Fulwar Craven Fowle. He recalled that she was:

“…certainly pretty – bright and a good deal of colour in her face – like a doll – no, that would not give at all the idea for she had so much expression – she was like a child – quite a child very lively and full of humour.”

We know that Jane’s last visit to Kintbury was in the spring of 1816. Fulwar’s daughter, Mary Jane Dexter, recalled that,

“She went about her old haunts and recalled old recollections with them in a peculiar manner, as if she did not expect to see them again.”

Theresa Lock, June 2023

Fifty miles of good road?

And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day’s journey. Yes, I call it a very easy distance.
Jane Austen, Pride & Prejudice

That was the opinion of Mr Darcy from Jane Austen’s novel of 1813, Pride & Prejudice. Whether many travellers of the time would have agreed with him it is difficult to say.

Of course, roads in towns and cities would have been very different from roads – where they existed – in rural areas such as ours. The villages of our benefice would have been linked back then, as now, by a network of winding lanes but then they would have become muddy and impassable in bad weather. Street names sometimes indicate what would have been the most direct or preferred route into larger towns such as Newbury Street in Kintbury, the road which can be followed eastwards through Hamstead Marshall and Enborne to enter Newbury on the south side, or oldest, part of town. This would have been the route used by the carriers’ carts and others for whom life moved at a much slower pace.

In Jane Austen’s day many working people rarely travelled beyond a few miles from their homes – although there were, of course, exceptions, such as the servants who travelled with their more affluent employers. But for many people the local villages furnished all their day to day needs and even somewhere as small as Combe had its own shops and even a post office.

But for some local people – and it goes without saying these were the upper classes – travel to the world beyond was part of their lives.

For the benefit of these people, with their liveried carriages, many roads had been steadily improving since the early years of the eighteenth century. This was when turnpike trusts, with responsibility for improving and maintaining important routes, were set up by acts of parliament and toll houses with their accompanying gates, became a familiar sight. So, whilst the lanes through Kintbury to Inkpen, West Woodhay and the like would have remained dusty or muddy track ways, roads linking important towns were much improved to facilitate coach travel.

At this time, Bath had become a very fashionable venue for the upper classes, many of whom travelled there from London. Consequently, the road we now know as the A4 – the Bath Road – was much repaired and widened. The stretch between Marlborough and Newbury in particular saw much improvement after 1744 when an act of parliament established a turnpike trust responsible for its repair. Milestones erected along the route at this time can still be seen today. One of its trustees was a man local to our area, a Dr Brickenden of Inkpen House, who, one can presume, could see the advantage of faster travel beyond his village.

The first public stage coaches to run between London and Bath had begun in 1657 when there were two regular services a week. By the end of the eighteenth century, however, the service had grown to over 150 a week. The Bear Inn, Cheap Street, Bath even advertised “A day and a half coach to London every Monday, Wednesday and Friday”. This was the express travel of the day.

For those able to afford to travel, mail coaches offered a more comfortable – and speedy -travelling experience. In 1782, John Palmer, a theatre owner from Bath, suggested to the Post Office in London that mail could be transported more quickly using the service he had developed for transporting his actors and stage scenery. An experimental run proved he was correct and his coach travelled along the Bath Road to London in just sixteen hours.

Mail coaches were pulled by teams of four horses, each team replaced every ten miles at one of the many coaching inns which had become well established along the Bath Road. Journeying more frequently through the night when the road was less busy, the black and maroon coaches with the coat of arms and words, “Royal Mail” emblazoned on the doors would have made a striking sight on a moonlit night as they made their way towards the toll house by the Hoe Benham turning.

There would have been a stop, too, at the Elcot turning; we know this because mail for the local area was deposited with the blacksmith there. We have, at St Mary’s, Kintbury, a letter written by Rev Noyes Lloyd of Enborne regarding his communication with the sculptor Sheermakers regarding the monument to the former Lady Craven, now in the north transept. Presumably written and sent from London, the letter is for the Rev Thomas Fowle of Kintbury but the direction is to the blacksmith’s at Elcot. From here the mail would have been collected and distributed. For those of the letter-writing classes, having relatively easy access to a speedy mail coach route must have been a big advantage.

But would this much improved turnpike road, along with the availability of fast travel to the bright lights of London or the fashionable resort of Bath, have really made much difference to the working villagers of Combe or Inkpen, West Woodhay or Kintbury? For those for whom travel was either by the carriers’ cart or a stout pair of boots, the answer is most probably no. The road to Newbury would have remained the lane through Enborne and the route to Hungerford was across the common.

For the toilers in the fields to the north of Kintbury, Hamstead Marshall or Enborne, the site and sounds of fashionable coaches rumbling past must have emphasised the great gulf between their lived experiences and those of the better off. So who would have used the new, improved Bath Road?

It goes without saying that the upper classes and members of the wealthier middle classes are most likely to have made the Bath Road their route of choice, particularly those who kept and maintained their own efficient carriage and horses. Dr Brickenden of Inkpen House, an early Commissioner of the Turnpike Trust, was most probably acting out of self interest in his support for the road.

Members of the Craven family of Hamstead Marshall may well have availed themselves of the fashionable amenities and social life to be had at Bath during the season. For the likes of them, a seat with very easy access to the turnpike road was equivalent to one’s country retreat having easy access to the M4 and onwards to Heathrow today.

Another person for whom the improved Bath Road must have been particularly convenient would have been Charles Dundas, member of Parliament for Berkshire from 1794 to 1832. Dundas lived at Barton Court which was – and still is – situated just off the Avenue, Kintbury. Two hundred years ago this route was one of the main roads into the village from the Bath Road, thus making access to the turnpike road particularly convenient for someone who could afford the very best carriage and team of horses.

Kintbury to Westminster along the Bath Road was – and still is – around 65 miles so just a bit longer than the fifty miles of good road which Mr Darcy thought “ a very easy distance” to travel in little more than half a day. I think Dundas would have needed the very best horses and several changes to travel to parliament in so short a time. However, if Palmer’s coaches managed nearly twice the distance in sixteen hours, it seems likely that the MP could have reached The House from his house on the same day as he set out, all other things, such as weather conditions, being equal.

Tessa Lock, May 2023

Once a mountain

Walbury Beacon Benefice is named after the point on Walbury Hill where, traditionally, a beacon has been built.

But mind-chains do not clank where one’s next neighbour is the sky.
Thomas Hardy, “On Wessex Heights“

Walbury Beacon Benefice is named after the point on Walbury Hill where, traditionally, a beacon has been built. Originally beacons were lit across the south of England as an alert to the danger of invasion. More recently and at least since Victorian times, the chain of beacons has been lit to celebrate royal jubilees. Sometimes known as Inkpen Beacon, at 974 feet above sea level, Walbury Hill is the highest point on chalk in England and the site of Walbury Camp, an Iron Age hill fort, which, I believe, has never been excavated.

A beacon on Walbury Hill/Inkpen Beacon celebrating the Platinum Jubilee in June 2022

It will surprise some people to know that when the Ordnance Survey first surveyed this area, Walbury Hill was measured as being 1,011 feet above sea level, thus making it a mountain! However, a subsequent survey in the late C19th measured Walbury at less than 975 feet and so demoted it to the status of a hill.

Further westward along the ridge is Inkpen Long Barrow, one of only three long barrows in Berkshire but one of a cluster, most of which are located in Wiltshire and Dorset. However, it is not the long barrow that many visitors come to see, but the famous (or perhaps that should be infamous) Combe Gibbet.

Many people mistakenly believe that a gibbet was the site of a public execution, but this was not so. The original Combe Gibbet was only used once but it was not for an execution. In 1676, George Broomham and Dorothy Newman were convicted of the murder of George’s wife Martha and son, Robert. They were executed at Winchester but their bodies returned to their home parishes where they were hung on the gibbet – as a deterrent to anyone contemplating committing murder. What contributes to the general confusion between a gibbet and a gallows is the fact that the downland on the north side below the gibbet is marked on OS maps as “Gallows Down” – presumably a misnomer which has stuck!

As many of you will know, the story of Broomham and Newman inspired the then young Oxford graduate John Schlessinger, to make his first feature film, “The Black Legend”. In the late 1940s the Schlessinger family lived at Mount Pleasant, between Inkpen and Kintbury and so the grisly local landmark would have been a familiar sight to them. With family members and friends from Oxford taking the major roles, John Schlessinger filmed the story of murder during the summer of 1948, using many local people as extras. I doubt any of these villagers had the remotest idea that this young man would one day go on to be one of Britain’s foremost directors winning 7 BAFTAs and an Oscar.

Nearly 20 years later John Schlessinger was to return to Wessex to film his adaptation of Thomas Hardy’s “Far from the Madding Crowd”. Filmed entirely on location in Wiltshire and Dorset, what fascinates me about this later work are the number of scenes which recall moments from Schlessinger’s earlier film. It is as if the inspiration he took from his work around Walbury Hill stayed with him and was used in this, one of the visually most beautiful of British films.

However, it is not only because of the Black Legend that many other people visit Walbury Hill. The Newbury Weekly News archive features various accounts of visits to the area or discussions of its history. Some time in the late C19th, the novelist and poet Thomas Hardy visited Walbury Beacon – though perhaps to confuse us even more, he calls it “Ingpen Beacon” – and referenced it in his poem, Wessex Heights:

There are some heights in Wessex, shaped as if by a kindly hand
For thinking, dreaming, dying on, and at crises when I stand,
Say, on Ingpen Beacon eastward, or on Wylls-Neck westwardly,
I seem where I was before my birth, and after death may be.

Walbury Hill might not be a mountain but it remains a much loved landmark.

Theresa Lock

Thomas Hardy and North Wessex

Think of the author, Thomas Hardy (1840 -1928), and your first thoughts are probably of Dorset, the county most associated with his life and where most of his novels and poems are set.

So, what did this author, most associated with the countryside around Dorchester, have to do with Berkshire?

Think of the author, Thomas Hardy (1840 -1928), and your first thoughts are probably of Dorset, the county most associated with his life and where most of his novels and poems are set.

Fans of Hardy will know that in his novels he identified his semi-fictional Dorset as South Wessex, Wiltshire as Mid Wessex, Hampshire as Upper Wessex and so on, adapting the name of the early medieval kingdom. If you look carefully at the map of Hardy’s Wessex inside most editions of the novels, you will see that North Wessex corresponds to pre 1974 Berkshire with “Christminster” or Oxford, just to the north.

So, what did this author, most associated with the countryside around Dorchester, have to do with Berkshire? Well, Hardy’s paternal grandmother, Mary Head, was actually born in Reading and brought up in Fawley, a village on the downs south of Wantage. In his novel, Jude the Obscure, Hardy gave Jude the surname, Fawley, but chose to identify the village as Marygreen, after his grandmother. Similarly, Wantage becomes Alfredstone after the King Alfred who was born there, and Newbury, Kennetbridge, after its river. Along with Aldbrickham for Reading, all these places feature in Jude the Obscure, Hardy’s novel of 1895.

Another Hardy link with Old Berkshire, this time in reality rather than fiction, is with Denchworth, a village in the Vale of White Horse north of Wantage. Hardy’s sister Mary had trained as a teacher in Salisbury and accepted her first teaching post at Denchworth village school. Quite why she took a post so far north of either her home or the town in which she trained, I cannot find out. I do not believe that teaching posts were so difficult to come by in those days but I might be wrong. Perhaps she had connections with the Wantage area or had been recommended by someone. It would be interesting to find out. Mary was, apparently, very lonely in this isolated spot so her mother allowed her much younger sister Kate to live with her there. Whether Hardy ever visited his sisters in Denchworth we do not know, although it has to be a possibility.

As a successful author, Hardy and his first wife Emma lived for a time in London where they befriended some of the society figures living in the capital at the time. These included Sir Frances & Lady Jeune who, in the later years of the nineteenth century, also owned Arlington Manor, north of Newbury on Snellsmore Common. Hardy came to stay with the Jeunes in their Berkshire home in 1893 when he also visited Shaw House, Newbury at that time the property of the Eyre family.

In October of the same year, Hardy paid a visit to his grandmother’s childhood home up on the downs at Fawley. Sadly he does not seemed to have enjoyed the North Wessex downland, or at least that around Fawley, as he wrote, “Entered a ploughed vale which might be called the Valley of Brown Melancholy”.

I hope that the surrounding downland untouched by the plough was more to Hardy’s liking!

However, we do know that there was somewhere in Berkshire that was very much to Hardy’s liking. Although we do not know for sure when or how he got there, Hardy visited our own Walbury Beacon. We know this because he refers to it – as “Ingpen Beacon”- in his poem of 1896, “On Wessex Heights”.

Perhaps Hardy visited whilst he was staying with the Jeunes the previous year. Maybe they had a very early model of motor car, although it is difficult imagining one negotiating the incline to reach the top. Perhaps Hardy, and whoever was accompanying him, travelled to Kintbury station and made the rest of the journey in a horse drawn vehicle. We shall never know. However, I am sure he would have been fascinated to see the gibbet (in its late 19^th century manifestation ) silhouetted against the skyline – I do so hope someone made him aware of the story of George Broomham & Dorothy Newman as I think he would have enjoyed it.

But it was the hill we know as Walbury Beacon which Hardy particularly enjoyed visiting and compared favourably with other hills across Wessex, inspiring the following:

Wessex Heights

There are some heights in Wessex, shaped as if by a kindly hand

For thinking, dreaming, dying on, and at crises when I stand,

Say, on Ingpen Beacon eastward, or on Wylls-Neck westwardly,

I seem where I was before my birth, and after death may be.

In the lowlands I have no comrade, not even the lone man’s friend –

Her who suffereth long and is kind; accepts what he is too weak to mend:

Down there they are dubious and askance; there nobody thinks as I,

But mind-chains do not clank where one’s next neighbour is the sky.
Thomas Hardy, December 1896

Theresa Lock

This article was first published in The Beacon in September 2022.

Where in the world is Combe?

Close scrutiny of the 1901 census shows something rather odd about the inhabitants of Combe. On first sight it would seem that many of the 90 or so inhabitants identified as having been born in Hampshire but were now living in Berkshire – a sort of mass migration across the border to the north. Had they left behind them a deserted village somewhere like Imber on Salisbury Plain or Tyneham in Dorset? If not, what had happened sometime in the previous ten years?

14th May 2023

What had actually occurred happened a long way from Combe; in the hallowed debating chambers and offices of Westminster the late Victorian governments had been bringing in laws to change how the country was being governed at a local level. Late nineteenth century policy changes are totally mind boggling unless you are one of those people for whom study of such minutiae brings you deep joy. However, put simply the 1894 Local Government Act enabled elections to take place for district and parish councillors. In doing so it brought a level of democracy much nearer for many people. This was mostly men, although the 1894 Act enabled women who owned property to vote in local elections.

Before district and parish councillors could be elected, it was necessary to determine where district and more importantly parish borders actually were. A glance at early nineteenth century county maps will show that back then not all county boundaries were where they are now. One such example is Combe which was originally in Hampshire although for the purposes of the Poor Law it was part of the Hungerford Union. This meant that anyone in Combe unlucky enough to fall upon hard times such that they could not look after themselves might find themselves in the workhouse in Hungerford.

In July 1894 a Joint Enquiry was held by representatives of the County Councils of Wiltshire, Berkshire and Hampshire to define more conveniently the county boundaries between those three administrative areas. At that time, the boundary between Berkshire and Hampshire passed right through the middle of Walbury camp and just to the north of the gibbet, as you can see on old OS maps.

Representing Combe, the vicar – and also Poor Law Guardian – Rev George Pearson expressed the view that his parishioners would rather their village to be in Berkshire. It was easier to get to Hungerford than either Kingsclere or Andover for what the Newbury Weekly News reported as “magisterial” purposes and for paying the rates into the Hungerford Bank. Questioned as to where the nearest Union (or workhouse ) was in Hampshire, the Rev Pearson explained that the one in Kingsclere was 10 or 11 miles away across difficult roads. Other members of the Enquiry concurred with this.

Absent from the meeting was Mr A.C. Coles, Combe’s representative of the landed gentry and, presumably, the most significant person in the community. However, his representative, a Mr Browning, informed the enquiry that Mr Coles was anxious that the parish should be transferred to Berkshire as it would be more convenient for highway purposes and that there were only one or two paupers in the parish, anyway.

I have to say the precise significance of this remark is lost on me, although I would hazard a guess that the implication is that the poor of Combe are not going to be a drain on the rates of those in the Hungerford Union area.

And so, in this rather prosaic way, Combe – despite being on the other side of the one-time mountain and highest point on chalk in England – came in to Berkshire and turned its back on Hampshire. Its ninety-something inhabitants, from the Coles in the manor house to the two paupers in their cottages, moved without going anywhere because the roads into Hungerford were better and more convenient despite the climb up and over Walbury Beacon. The boundary was redrawn so that Berkshire included Combe Wood and Eastwick and there it has stayed ever since.

St Swithun’s church stayed in the diocese of Winchester, at least for the time being. In the years that followed it was transferred to the diocese of Salisbury and then back again, moving eventually to the diocese of Oxford in the early 1960s.

I have heard of other reasons being given for why the county boundary across our benefice was moved. However, I can find no other reasons other than those given above – essentially the convenience of road communications between Combe and Hungerford in implementing the 1894 Act.

I would love to hear from anyone else who might know or have evidence otherwise!

Tessa Lock

This article was first published in “The Beacon” in 2022