thesweetcheat

Visited 23 January 2023.

After leaving Bradlow Knoll and making my way down from Frith Hill, I approach Kilbury Camp from the north. The OS map shows a confused series of earthworks, most of which don’t join up. It looks like there’s a small hilltop enclosure, with a much larger area enclosed by a couple of lines of ramparts around the base of the hill.

From the road to northwest, some traces of a rampart can be seen following the modern field boundaries. A helpful footpath leads me directly up to the corner of the hilltop enclosure from the west. There are indications of a low earthwork along the west and south of this inner enclosure, but much of the site goes into a fenced-off woodland area and I haven’t the energy to engage with trying to get into it.

Instead I follow the footpath eastwards, which crosses the southern part of the larger site. Dropping down to the next field boundary there are indications of an earthwork under the hedge, but there’s little to see. There are excellent views of the southern part of the Malvern Hills, particularly British Camp and Midsummer Hill which reward the visit and give the site some great landscape context.

Barbed wire bars a walk northwards along the rampart, so I decide to content myself with this part of the site. I don’t think there’s going to be a great deal more to see for the effort involved in further exploration.

Heading back to the road, I can see what appears to be two quite well-defined lines of bank and ditch along the southwest of the wider site. Unfortunately this area has been incorporated into a domestic site, in which a line of caravans and motor boats have been parked. It’s frustrating, as this appears to be the best-preserved part of the ramparts. I manage to get a further look at it from the road to the southwest where there’s a covered reservoir site, but that’s the best I can do without seeking permission for a closer look.

All in all, despite the limited archaeology it’s been worth scratching the itch of coming here, especially on such a lovely winter’s day. Another Herefordshire hillfort and somewhere I’ve been meaning to make the effort to visit for a long time.

Visited 23 January 2023. Taking a spontaneous break of train journey at Ledbury, I walk up the steep, winding lane to Bradlow, then an even steeper footpath up the hill beneath humming pylons.

The January afternoon is sunny but hazy, the views back down to Ledbury all soft blues and greens. May Hill inevitably looms on the skyline south. By the time I reach the treeline and “Chris Johnson’s Bench” I’m quite out of breath, my slow winter recovery from Covid not yet behind me. After sitting for a while I head onwards into the trees, a set of rough steps leading up towards the Knoll.

The Knoll itself turns out to be a rounded mound on the southwestern end of the summit ridge of Frith Hill. It could very well be natural, but there’s certainly the possibility of a round barrow, and the “low” part of the name adds credence to the idea.

It’s quite lovely in the woods, although the trees block the views from what would be a quite prominent viewpoint. I walk the length of the summit ridge, then follow paths down to Upper Mitchell Farm. Emerging from the woods on the eastern side of the hill there are terrific views of the southern Malverns, taking in British Camp and Midsummer Hill. From here I head off to visit Kilbury Camp.

Visited 20 January 2023. After a Christmas and New Year spent slowly getting over Covid, a family gathering takes me to Musbury at the eastern fringes of Devon. A quick check of the OS map reveals a hillfort within a short distance of the village, a test for my weakened legs.

It’s a beautiful afternoon when I arrive in the village after a sunny and scenic train journey to Axminster, and I’m raring to get out and visit the fort. A fairly gentle ascent follows a farm track southeast from the church, giving good views of the profile of the wooded fort from the west. A stile gives access to fields, thankfully still frozen to keep the mud at bay, the route gradually getting steeper the further up I get. At length a footpath heads off up to the fort itself, and it’s only a few minutes before I’m at the massive southwestern rampart.

The earthwork here is very impressive, cutting off the interior of the fort from some kind of much less defined southwestern annexe. There are great views across the Axe valley to the west, and down to the coast at Seaton, partially hidden by another hillfort on Hawkesdown Hill.

I follow the rampart along the northwestern crest of the ridge. Here the earthwork is under trees and much smaller, relying on a very steep hillside to do most of the defensive work. The interior of the fort is a grassy field, the grass deep and tussocky and not that easy to walk through. Heading further north the way is barred by a fence, over which I can see a second huge earthwork, even taller than the one at the southwest. I follow the fence round to the corner of the field and a pedestrian gate, which gives access to the more overgrown northern part of the fort.

There are two enormous parallel banks here, forming the northeastern defences. Both are heavily overgrown with dead bracken and bramble, but this is definitely the time of year to come as it’s possible to walk along the tops of both of them, the undergrowth trying to catch my stumbling legs and trip me over. In the woods at the western end of the banks I startle a couple of deer, which run pell-mell down the field.

After disentangling myself from the vegetation I follow the southeastern side of the ridge round. Again there’s a lesser rampart running along the crest of the hill, but the natural slope is utilised to form the defences. Back at the southwestern end of the fort I have a look at the slight bank of the annexe. This a great little fort, the views are terrific on such a lovely day.

It’s cold and I’m tiring quickly, my recuperation not yet complete. I head back down the way I came, the sun sinking and the still frozen ground preparing for another hard frost. Tea and warmth await below, and despite the wobbly legs by the time I reach the church, I’m delighted to have been able to visit this fine site in such perfect conditions.