Leave the churchyard by an iron gate in the top corner. Ascend to a stile, then follow the line of poplars left along field. Leave by a stile at the first corner. Contour across the next field to a stile, then descend slightly to another, overgrown stile about 100yds (91m) right of a small solitary tree. Turn right, through a gate here, ascending by the field-edge. Keep this line, but, on seeing a dilapidated gate with a faded blue waymarker at a protruding corner of Halletshill Coppice, drop straight down left, finding wooden steps to a footbridge.
Now go straight up the bank. After the trees, keep the hedge on your right, through a gate to reach a minor road. Turn right (and to visit the church, right again). Return to the road and turn right. At the entrance to The Hawkins take a kissing gate, then follow way-markers across a track to skirt this farm. Now head down the pastures to a stile with wooden steps. Keep ahead, descending very gently, for 200yds (183m), to cross a footbridge over the Linton Brook.
Turn left, walking beside the Linton Brook for 0.6 miles (1km), to a road. Turn left for 160yds (146m). Turn right. Now the driveway to Upper Venn Farm runs for 0.5 miles (800m). Just before the first shed, turn left to a gate 50yds (46m) along the edge of the field.
Cross the field diagonally, to a gate in the left hedge. Turn left across a field, aiming slightly uphill, beside residual mature oaks. You’ll find a stile beyond an electricity pole. Pick up a rough track to Venn Farm, passing alongside its long black barn. Admire the farm’s cream walls and exposed timbers, then turn away, along the drive. Follow this down to the minor road.
Turn left, passing Paunton Court (home to the Frome Valley Vineyard) on a sharp bend. At the crossroads go straight over. As you climb this quite steep lane, the Church of St Giles comes into view. Take the first turning on the left to return to your car.
At first sight the Church of St Giles at Acton Beauchamp is unremarkable, sitting comfortably on a hillside. Parts of it are Norman, but it was largely rebuilt in 1819. However, if you move to the left of the main door you will see a doorway that leads into the tower. The lintel to this doorway is... nothing less than a re-used ninth-century stone sculpture, depicting a bird, a lion, and probably a goat – there is nothing like this from the Anglo-Saxon period in Herefordshire. Through the gate into the churchyard in Acton Beauchamp, a grassy path slants up to the church. Your eye may follow the shiny black line of the handrail that assists people to and from the church door, but right in front of you is an excellent specimen of a wild service tree. It must have been planted there. Wild service trees actually in the wild are relatively rare nowadays, although it is quite fashionable to plant them in urban settings. Their leaves are easily confused with those of a plane tree, but the latter’s bark is very distinctive. It is rare for the seeds of the wild service tree to have the opportunity to germinate since they are eaten and, genetically, destroyed by wasps. (This is in contrast to the consumption of hawthorn berries by birds, for example, where the expulsion of the seed, intact, after digestion of its juicy berry coating, is an effective form of dispersal.) Academics are uncertain as to the significance of the name ‘service’. Most likely it is a contorted Anglicisation of its Latin name Sorbus torminalis. Before multiple varieties of apples became available, wild service trees were grown in orchards because their fruits are edible. The dictionary says that a ‘sorb’ is a wild service tree, and that its fruits are called ‘sorb-apples’. (In the southern counties of England they were called chequers.) Other less convincing theories are that ‘service’ derives from the Latin cervisia, meaning beer – not far from the modern Spanish cerveza – since the wild service fruits were fermented to make a beery drink, really as a predecessor to cyder. Alternatively, it could have some association with the French word cerise (cherry), since, despite being a kiwi-fruit brown in colour, wild service fruits are comparable to cherries in size and shape. In Stanford Bishop, St James’ Church is similarly isolated, but has a hilltop position. Several yew trees dominate the churchyard, the mightiest of which is said to be 1,200 years old; inside, you’ll see a certificate to this effect. Also here, nestling in a corner, is the strikingly well preserved, capacious wooden chair said to have been used by St Augustine in the year ad 603.
Herefordshire is split in two by the River Wye which meanders through the county on its way to the Severn and the sea. Largely rural, with Hereford, Leominster, and Ross-on-Wye the major towns and cities, its countryside and ancient villages are the county’s major asset.
Leave the churchyard by an iron gate in the top corner. Ascend to a stile, then follow the line of poplars left along field. Leave by a stile at the first corner. Contour across the next field to a stile, then descend slightly to another, overgrown stile about 100yds (91m) right of a small solitary tree. Turn right, through a gate here, ascending by the field-edge. Keep this line, but, on seeing a dilapidated gate with a faded blue waymarker at a protruding corner of Halletshill Coppice, drop straight down left, finding wooden steps to a footbridge.
1 of 5
Now go straight up the bank. After the trees, keep the hedge on your right, through a gate to reach a minor road. Turn right (and to visit the church, right again). Return to the road and turn right. At the entrance to The Hawkins take a kissing gate, then follow way-markers across a track to skirt this farm. Now head down the pastures to a stile with wooden steps. Keep ahead, descending very gently, for 200yds (183m), to cross a footbridge over the Linton Brook.
2 of 5
Turn left, walking beside the Linton Brook for 0.6 miles (1km), to a road. Turn left for 160yds (146m). Turn right. Now the driveway to Upper Venn Farm runs for 0.5 miles (800m). Just before the first shed, turn left to a gate 50yds (46m) along the edge of the field.
3 of 5
Cross the field diagonally, to a gate in the left hedge. Turn left across a field, aiming slightly uphill, beside residual mature oaks. You’ll find a stile beyond an electricity pole. Pick up a rough track to Venn Farm, passing alongside its long black barn. Admire the farm’s cream walls and exposed timbers, then turn away, along the drive. Follow this down to the minor road.
4 of 5
Turn left, passing Paunton Court (home to the Frome Valley Vineyard) on a sharp bend. At the crossroads go straight over. As you climb this quite steep lane, the Church of St Giles comes into view. Take the first turning on the left to return to your car.
At first sight the Church of St Giles at Acton Beauchamp is unremarkable, sitting comfortably on a hillside. Parts of it are Norman, but it was largely rebuilt in 1819. However, if you move to the left of the main door you will see a doorway that leads into the tower. The lintel to this doorway is... nothing less than a re-used ninth-century stone sculpture, depicting a bird, a lion, and probably a goat – there is nothing like this from the Anglo-Saxon period in Herefordshire. Through the gate into the churchyard in Acton Beauchamp, a grassy path slants up to the church. Your eye may follow the shiny black line of the handrail that assists people to and from the church door, but right in front of you is an excellent specimen of a wild service tree. It must have been planted there. Wild service trees actually in the wild are relatively rare nowadays, although it is quite fashionable to plant them in urban settings. Their leaves are easily confused with those of a plane tree, but the latter’s bark is very distinctive. It is rare for the seeds of the wild service tree to have the opportunity to germinate since they are eaten and, genetically, destroyed by wasps. (This is in contrast to the consumption of hawthorn berries by birds, for example, where the expulsion of the seed, intact, after digestion of its juicy berry coating, is an effective form of dispersal.) Academics are uncertain as to the significance of the name ‘service’. Most likely it is a contorted Anglicisation of its Latin name Sorbus torminalis. Before multiple varieties of apples became available, wild service trees were grown in orchards because their fruits are edible. The dictionary says that a ‘sorb’ is a wild service tree, and that its fruits are called ‘sorb-apples’. (In the southern counties of England they were called chequers.) Other less convincing theories are that ‘service’ derives from the Latin cervisia, meaning beer – not far from the modern Spanish cerveza – since the wild service fruits were fermented to make a beery drink, really as a predecessor to cyder. Alternatively, it could have some association with the French word cerise (cherry), since, despite being a kiwi-fruit brown in colour, wild service fruits are comparable to cherries in size and shape. In Stanford Bishop, St James’ Church is similarly isolated, but has a hilltop position. Several yew trees dominate the churchyard, the mightiest of which is said to be 1,200 years old; inside, you’ll see a certificate to this effect. Also here, nestling in a corner, is the strikingly well preserved, capacious wooden chair said to have been used by St Augustine in the year ad 603.
Herefordshire is split in two by the River Wye which meanders through the county on its way to the Severn and the sea. Largely rural, with Hereford, Leominster, and Ross-on-Wye the major towns and cities, its countryside and ancient villages are the county’s major asset.
