Both have a fascinating history, and are the scenes of haunting experiences. Many curious incidents have been recounted at these two locations. The Saxon Mill draws visitors not only for its hospitality, its menu and its bar; but also for the sheer romantic beauty of its setting on the river Avon, by the bridge across the weir, leading to Milverton Hill. As if this itself wasn’t enough, it provides the perfect site to view the poignant ruins of Guy’s Cliffe, across the mill pond and further up the river.
Of course curious anecdotes are related of the pub itself; and I include these in my book. But the most compelling stories are of visions experienced by those standing on the bridge or upon the riverside path opposite Guy’s Cliffe, as they gaze towards the ruined mansion.
Meanwhile, further up the road from the Saxon Mill, we may find – if we are persistent enough – Gaveston’s Cross, hidden in a wood. The cross commemorates a murderous act of revenge by the then Earl of Warwick Guy de Beauchamp and his henchmen, in the year 1312, when Piers Gaveston, King Edward II‘s favourite, had finally pushed his luck too far.
We may however look to the year 1821, and to the colourful former owner of Guy’s Cliffe, Bertie Greatheed, for the reason as to why this monument is there at all. Bertie caused the cross to be erected on his land, in a direct line of sight from the top floor of his flamboyant gothic mansion. Bertie himself was a creative man, a writer, traveller and architect, a ‘child of the romantic era’ and I think it appealed to him to mark this example of human infamy, so he could see it whenever the mood took him.
So he caused the cross to be erected, and upon it was carved a fascinating inscription, full of wordy relish. I understand that the wording was devised by the local clergyman. It manages to heap recrimination on everyone involved, and simultaneously derive self-righteous glee from the wrongdoings of the past.