A few weeks ago I visited this small village with Dr Alex Craven, who is researching it for the latest volume of the Victoria County History. I was invited along in my capacity of building archaeologist. The village is found just off the A30 Shaftesbury to Salisbury road. Blink and you miss it. It was obviously once a much more bustling community; Alex found that instead of one long village street with a couple of lanes off, there were once parallel streets. The street near Compton House was removed for the convenience of the Penruddockes, Lords of the Manor, to improve the view! Since then it has lost its pub (the King’s Elm) and latterly the village shop. Silence now reigns, punctuated only by the muted sound of passing traffic from the main road and sheep bleating. It could be oppressive to the average townie, or heaven, depending on your persuasion.
The Cemetery in Compton, which contains the graves of a number of ANZAC troops who died of influenza in 1919.
Look down the street towards the church and the manor, which lie close together secretively behind high walls, and you will see quaint little houses of the local greensand covered in thatch, or a later replacement for it. A steep bank on one side lours over the street, and green wooded hills on the far side of the pleasure grounds to Compton House add to the sense of seclusion. The interiors of some of the houses that the owners kindly granted access to were fascinating: Combe House dating from the later 17th century retained an original stair, an insanely steep, tortuous thing winding around a central newel post and rising to the attics. Climbing on all fours is the natural mode of ascent, a fact that the present owners, now into their retirement, no longer find attractive. Well Cottage is dominated by a large hearth taking up almost one entire wall. Now arranged with flowers, knick-knacks and pictures, the heat and light from the fire would once have been an important focus for the household. The present modern kitchen is now tucked away at the rear of the house, in a lean-to. Time moves on, even in sleepy Compton Chamberlayne, but the absence of many of the sounds of civilisation contribute more to the feeling of timelessness than more ostentatiously ancient places like Lacock, with its hordes of tourists.
Dorothy Treasure
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