An unpleasant encounter on the banks of the Ouse reminds Richard Foster that we should safeguard the right to roam.

NEVER take footpaths for granted. The right to walk along them has had to be fought for.

I was reminded of this when I took my two daughters, aged 16 and 11, for a riverside walk near Beningbrough Hall, a National Trust property on the banks of the River Ouse north of York.

It was a sunny afternoon as we strolled along the riverbank, stopping occasionally to savour magnificent views of the historic hall across green pastures and to watch a dozen white swans glide gracefully past a lone fisherman.

The problems began as we approached the well-heeled village of Newton-on-Ouse where the path forked.

We decided to take the left fork, keeping to the riverbank, and soon we were having to negotiate well-made timber gates in manicured gardens, some boasting tennis courts.

Our senses were assaulted by a proliferation of signs stating "private", with one even warning that "trespassers will be prosecuted". It gave me the impression that certain householders regarded ramblers as garden pests.

My daughters had gone on ahead while I stopped beside the parish church to ascertain if there were an access from the path into the churchyard.

I called out to my daughters to come back when, suddenly, a man appeared and barked at me: "Have you permission to be in this garden?"

Before I could answer, he went on: "This footpath is 3ft wide and you are now trespassing."

He assured me there was no access to the churchyard and I could either return the way I had come, and enter the village via the grounds of Beningbrough Hall, or I could continue along the riverside path for about 300 yards and get to the village by backtracking along a windy rural road.

Being well into his verbal stride, he proceeded to tell me that, strictly speaking, I could not leave the path where it went through the car park of the nearby Dawnay Arms pub because I would be trespassing.

Despite this warning, we decided to risk arrest by walking to the village green, via the pub car park, where we had a picnic. The stranger's verbal assault had tainted what had been a pleasant family day out.

This controversial footpath has divided the village since a campaign was launched to save it after houses were built backing on to it.

The issue went to a public inquiry where a government inspector ruled, in November 1996, that the half-mile stretch beside the River Ouse was still a right of way.

Now St Peter's School in York has applied to the city council to close a footpath that runs through its grounds.

Those visionaries who founded the Association For The Protection Of Ancient Footpaths In The Vicinity Of York in 1824 would not have approved.

This country's network of footpaths is a national treasure and people need to remain vigilant to keep all rights of way open.

Tom Stephenson, a tireless campaigner for walkers' rights, told me shortly before he died that no man made the land and nobody had the right to keep lovers of the countryside off it.

I met him at an open-air event near Malham, in the Yorkshire Dales, in the mid-1980s to celebrate the origins of his idea for the Pennine Way.

Broadcaster and folk musician Mike Harding was there along with the fiery Labour politician Barbara Castle.

Looking immaculate in a tweed suit and sensible shoes, the former Cabinet Minister gave an impassioned speech to the gathering. She reminded them that their right to walk England's green and pleasant land was enshrined in every sign marking every footpath.

It was a right that had been fought for and shame on those who wanted to take away that right.

One of the most important fights for walkers' rights was the mass trespass on Kinder Scout, in the Peak District, on April 24, 1932. Five ramblers were jailed for public order offences after a clash between 400 walkers and 30 gamekeepers.

The severity of the jail sentences, ranging from two to six months, acted as an important catalyst to the growing countryside access campaign - the glorious fruits of which we can enjoy today.

The biggest private landowner in the Peak District is the Duke of Devonshire, at Chatsworth.

In an interview to celebrate the 70th anniversary of the mass trespass, the 11th Duke, who died earlier this year, said: "Although I was only 12 years old when it happened, I have always been very influenced by the mass trespass.

"I am still horrified both by the attitude of landowners at the time, who included my grandfather, the 9th Duke, in not allowing people to walk in open country, and by the vicious sentences handed down to the trespassers.

"I would like formally to apologise for the attitude of my grandfather, who owned part of Kinder at the time, for what happened.

"My ambition is to de-politicise the access situation through good neighbourliness."

Certain residents of Newton-on-Ouse would do well to read, mark and inwardly digest those words of wisdom from the late Duke.

Updated: 09:22 Saturday, July 24, 2004