Win a great break in Dorset

Ah, Purbeck “marble”: few of our cathedrals and some churches built in the Middle Ages in southern England in high style are without carving, compound pillar ornamentation, sometimes figures, made of this attractive shell-rich limestone. When cut and polished it has a shining lustre.

Purbeck, including the traditional Isle of Purbeck (actually a peninsula), is a district in the extreme south-east corner of Dorset. Its central town is Wareham, just a mile or so from the great spread of Poole Harbour, and easily reached by road or rail: it has an intriguing history, and much quiet charm.

Set on a ridge of high ground running west to east, with the rivers Piddle to the north and the navigable Frome to the south, both flowing into the massive expanse of Poole Harbour, it became a major Saxon settlement.

The defensive earth walls from King Alfred’s time (9th century) surround the town, on three sides, the fourth being protected by the river Frome. Extensive, green with grass, they make for a pleasant walk or two. Descend into the streets, to find that Wareham epitomises what is almost a dream of an English small town, with, for a stranger, a strong sense of community and helpful friendliness. It is a pleasure to walk its streets, mostly unsullied by assertive modern monolithic buildings.

There are surprisingly few winding lanes, instead, mostly a grid pattern, that some attribute to the Saxons. The main streets are named from their compass position — North, South, East and West, meeting centrally at The Cross, where the modest tower of the Victorian Town Hall points skywards. A contrast to the mostly Georgian buildings built after a great fire swept the town in 1762. After thatched roofs were banned.

Up at the end of North Street, there’s the church of St Martin on the Walls, not open regularly, with many surviving AngloSaxon features, at its core pre-conquest, with some later pre-Reformation additions. These include interesting wall paintings. Rather oddly, there’s a fine recumbent statue of TE Lawrence (“of Arabia”), by his noted sculptor friend Eric Kennington, at rest there after disputes over a grander setting. He was killed on his motorcycle some miles away. St Martin’s is now looked after by the parish churches, their office (01929 550905) easily arranges access.

From it, down toward the river Frome, a great early Perpendicular tower (c.1500AD) dominates the sky. It stands above the west entrance of the parish church of Lady St Mary, a probably unique dedication. This was one of the finest surviving mostly Saxon-built churches in the country — probably dating from around the 8th century — its importance verified by two of their kings having been buried here. Then in 1842 the Saxon nave was pulled down and replaced. The chancel, with its fine 14th century tracery in its great East window was retained. It also contains two effigies of knights from the last half of the 13th centur y, carved in Purbeck marble.

They were once in St Edward’s Chapel. This is dedicated to Edward, King and Martyr, who was murdered in 978AD at the royal residence where Corfe castle now stands in impressive ruin south of Wareham. Perhaps this was on orders from his step-mother (whose son, Ethelred The Unready, succeeded him). He was buried here, his body later removed elsewhere, and he was subsequently canonised.

You step down to the Chapel, for when it was built, snuggled against the Saxon south wall, was the Priory, a monastic house, first it would seem of nuns and then of monks, whose dormitory extended over the chapel to the then chancel wall of the church.

At the dissolution of the monasteries the Priory was sold off, and, recycling much of its stone, a private house was built soon after with four acres of garden down to the river Frome, keeping the name of its origins. This now, with further additions over nearly five centuries, became The Priory Hotel in 1975, a member of the Pride of Britain consortium of individual privatelyowned luxury hotels (the official hotel partner of the National Trust).

It has very much retained the individuality of an old gentry house. Each room, including the bedrooms (all of course with modern facilities) is different. The former Parlour, extended a century or two ago, is now the Drawing Room (note its centuriesblackened oak beams), just right for afterdinner coffee and the chef’s Petits Fours. The Garden Room, with its ancient huge fireplace, is for breakfast and lunch, looking out over its terrace (open air meals in appropriate weather), to greenery and the river.

Dinner (excellent — the chef is French) is in what was originally an undercroft, now rechristened The Abbot’s Cellar. (There are constant reminders of the hotel’s origins: many Victorian paintings of carousing monks decorate the walls). For our readers, The Priory offers a two-night stay for two people, including one dinner, to the winner of our competition below.

One close attraction is essential to visit: Corfe Castle, one of the National Tr ust’s most visited properties at the attractive village of that name. A short walk from the hotel, opposite Abbot’s Quay by the South Bridge, a convenient double-decker bus goes every hour for most of the day, taking you to Corfe Castle village in 19 minutes.

Splendid views from upstairs, as the r uins begin to dominate the landscape, almost taking your breath away as we rode down the valley towards the gap in the Purbeck Hills which it commands from its natural high hill between.

After the Norman Conquest, most castles were an earthen mound with a wood fortification, but this began partly of stone, denoting the highest status, perhaps because of the royal residence hitherto, and the new king’s hunting nearby. It was massively expanded, especially in the 13th century. A complex of walls and towers defended the great high keep. Young visitors can dress up as medieval soldiers, with appropriate (wooden) weapons.

In 1572 Elizabeth I sold the castle to her Lord Chancellor, whose family sold it on, to Charles I’s Attorney General, just before the Civil War (began 1642). Soon one of the few remaining royal strongholds in southern England, it was commanded by the AG’s wife, Lady Mary Bankes. Besieged twice by Parliamentarians, she was betrayed in 1645 by one of her officers. Though she and her soldiers were allowed to leave, almost at once Parliament voted to destroy the castle.

So strong was it though that much remains, the most spectacular being the single 70ft wall of the keep. The ruins themselves fascinated, the effect of undermining and shattering great towers with gunpowder. Then, unexpectedly, across the valley, the early 20th century appeared: a steam train of the preservation Heritage Railway, which can take you on to Swanage — as could that double-decker bus.